Never Say Forever

“Why, Carson Hayes, don’t you look almost edible tonight.”

Penance, I silently remind myself as I fix a smile on my face and turn to take my admirer’s hands. “Only almost?”

“No one likes a man who fishes for compliments, dear.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Incorrigible man.” She swats me with her tiny purse, something barely big enough for a compact, let alone a wallet. But I know she’s good for a sizable donation. One way or another.

“You’re looking particularly lovely tonight, Miss Carter.” If lovely is a testament to the art of her surgeon’s skills. What is it with some women’s desire for eternal youth? Don’t they understand that there is beauty in every stage of a woman’s life?

But we must all play our parts, and my part is to squeeze donations from tight purses, especially from cattle heiresses with nothing but boy toys and diamonds to spend it on.

“It’s Adrienne,” she purrs. “You must call me Adrienne. As I’ve told you that so many times before. You know, Carson, I’ve a mind to make a very generous donation tonight.”

“And I’m sure the good patrons would be delighted to hear it.”

I exchanged a night with an angel for this.

No. I removed myself from the temptation of an angel because she deserves better than me. You’ve already done quite enough. She’s right because I want her with a force that can’t be good for either of us.

“It was a particular kind of donation I was thinking about. A very large contribution. Why don’t you come sit with me?” Her mouth a small moue, she walks her fingers up my lapel. “Maybe we could sneak out. Go somewhere quiet and talk for a while.”

It’s a talent that she can make talk sound so tawdry.

“I’m sorry, Adrienne. You know I can’t do that.” Covering her fingers with my own, I lift them away. “If you want to discuss a donation to the foundation outside of tonight’s event, you know where to find me.”

“I have your assistant’s details. And I don’t want to discuss it with him.”

“Tucker is my business partner, not my assistant. He takes care of the details.” For Ardeo.

“While you take care of business?” She quirks a brow, her tone jaunty. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Some things are better experienced than alluded to second-hand. I’m sure you’ll appreciate that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see someone trying to catch my attention.”

“Tell ’em to get in line.” Her drawling assertion follows me, and I’m pretty sure I can feel her eyes glued to my ass. I fully expect she’ll have made that call before the end of the night and for there to be a bidding war for our New York evening. Which will aid Rose’s foundation, I remind myself.

A nod here, a handshake there, my mind turns to the matter at hand before my head is turned by a familiar laugh.

“Remy? What the hell are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to help you squeeze a few purses.” His hand claps my shoulder as he makes a grab for my hand.

“Rose didn’t mention you’d be attending.” My head swings around, expecting her to be but a few paces away. “Where is she?” Because where one half of the pair is, the other is usually somewhere close.

“Lusting after my wife still, I see.” He grins widely. He loves to bust my balls about the one time I hit on Rose. She’s pretty, and I’m male, but that was about the extent of my attraction. Actually, it was also about getting under his skin. But that’s all behind us now. His attention slides to the usual third of the Remy/Rose party; Everett, the head of their security team. “Maybe I should’ve broken more than his nose when I had the chance. What do you think, Rhett?”

“If it’d been up to me,” Everett replies, “I should’ve let you run him over in the Range Rover.” He smirks. “If I remember, you were all for it back then. And quit talking in French. We’re in an English-speaking country.”

“We only speak French to protect you from Carson’s terrible jokes.”

But we all know this isn’t true. Everett, or Rhett, understands the language perfectly. He just happens to butcher it when he opens his mouth.

“So, where is she?” I ask again. Tonight is one of Rose’s benefit balls for the international charitable foundation she chairs. While she doesn’t attend all fundraisers, she and Remy are almost inseparable.

“Rose is at home with Rocco.” His expression firms. “He came down with a virus a few hours before we were due to depart.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, it’s just a cold, but his ears are sore, poor little man. We were worried the pressure in the plane would make it worse. But Rose was adamant we should still attend.”

“She doesn’t like to break a promise, does she? But how come I had no idea you were all planning on being here?”