The men tended to envy Nathan, and the women envied her. It was good for Sasha’s ego, yet it was an empty satisfaction. She didn’t really have Nathan, and she didn’t really want other men’s interest.
Nevertheless, Sasha sparkled as she had never sparkled before. She drank French champagne. She nibbled gourmet delicacies from silver trays. Dinner-jacketed waiters circulated with endless supplies of tempting treats and Sasha in her red satin evening dress was definitely not a neglected guest.
She received charming care and attention, flirtatious care and attention, bold and purposeful care and attention. Nathan, however, seemed oblivious to all this. His care and attention was faultlessly courteous. Nothing more, nothing less.
Sasha found herself fuming with frustration. Nathan concentrated his interest on the conversations directed towards him. The women who drew that sexy focus of attention in those riveting blue eyes lapped it up and did their utmost to retain it. Men seemed to lobby for his approval. They all, men and women alike, basked in Nathan Parnell’s personal charisma.
Sasha finally decided she had had enough. She bestowed her best brilliant smile on a notorious gambler who whisked her off to the ballroom and propositioned her as he demonstrated some blatantly suggestive dance steps. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or outraged. In the end, she laughingly parried his wicked but good-humoured banter.
It reminded her of her resolution to enjoy herself. Emboldened by the gambler’s success at removing Sasha from Nathan’s side, other men asked her to dance with them. No objection came from Nathan and Sasha danced her feet off, gaily accepting invitation after invitation. She bubbled with vivacity. Every time her partners returned her to Nathan she glowed with the pleasure they had given her. Nathan smiled indulgently. He did not ask her to dance with him. He appeared to be having a perfectly fine time without her at his side.
Having got this heartburning message, Sasha danced on without bothering to return to his side. She didn’t need him, either. There were plenty of men flocking around her, panting for her attention and lapping up every responsive flash in her eyes. There were men ready to get her another glass of champagne, men ready to please her palate with whatever food she might fancy, men hanging on every delightfully bubbly word that spilled from her red satin lips.
It was highly irritating to Sasha that such an idyllic situation should become extremely tiresome. But it did. She took the only possible relief that pride allowed her. She retreated to the ladies’ powder-room and did some quiet seething while she ostensibly repaired her make-up.
Nathan Parnell was no more falling in love with her than the man in the moon. He hadn’t even bothered to try taking her out to the romantic patio beyond the ballroom to show her the moon.
Matt was definitely wrong about his daddy’s being able to do anything. Nathan Parnell had either resigned himself to defeat, or didn’t care enough to compete for her undivided attention. Sasha was disappointed in him. Deeply disappointed.
Since her ‘good time’ had worn thin, and Nathan obviously didn’t require her, Sasha saw no point in staying at the party any longer. She hoped Nathan would have the good manners to take her home upon request. If not, she would order a taxi. She was about to sally forth from the powder-room with this purpose in mind when she was confronted by the last woman in the world she wanted to see.
Elizabeth Maddox.
Nathan’s ex-wife effectively blocked Sasha’s exit with a stance that exuded haughty scorn. Sasha returned a bored look that hid quite a few explosive little questions—like whether Nathan had known Elizabeth was going to be here, and had he planned on using Sasha’s presence to camouflage his real marriage plans from his litigious ex-wife?
‘You don’t look Polish,’ Elizabeth opened up with gimlet-eyed suspicion.
‘You don’t look like a piranha,’ Sasha retorted.
‘So, Urzsula Budna thinks she has teeth, does she?’ Elizabeth gave Sasha’s dress a contemptuous once-over before lifting pitying eyes. ‘Well, from tonight’s performance, my dear, they’re certainly not sunk into Nathan. That’s why you’ve been playing up to every other man.’
This was clearly a case of mistaken identity and Sasha was tempted to blow Nathan’s strategy wide open. He hadn’t done the decent thing by her. He hadn’t even done the indecent thing. He had been totally, callously and recklessly indifferent.
‘You really want him and you can’t get him,’ Elizabeth sneered.
That goaded Sasha to resume battle stations. ‘Sounds as if you’re stating your own position,’ she drawled, flicking her eyes over the sleek silvery gown her antagonist wore. ‘A dead fish seems a more apt description than a piranha.’
Elizabeth resumed her haughty air. ‘I had Nathan precisely where I wanted him. You do not.’
Sasha couldn’t let that pass. ‘I like a man to simmer before bringing him to the boil. It’s called living dangerously. But very exciting.’
Another woman entered the powder-room. Elizabeth had to step aside and Sasha seized the opportunity to leave. She headed straight for where she had last seen Nathan. He was engaged in some lively debate with a raven-haired beauty and a bunch of lawyers.
Sasha hooked her arm around Nathan’s, flashed her teeth at his companions, then brought their discussion to a dead halt.
‘Please excuse us, ladies and gentlemen. Nathan needs to dance with me. His legs might get broken if he doesn’t do it right now.’
‘She Who Must Be Obeyed,’ Nathan intoned, but without resistance.
They all laughed.
Nathan swept Sasha away towards the ballroom, stroking her arm as though she was a ruffled cat that required soothing. She didn’t purr. As far as she was concerned, fur was about to fly.
‘To what do I owe the honour?’ he asked, a silky satisfaction in his voice.
‘Don’t get tickets on yourself,’ Sasha warned. ‘You’re a sneaky rotten scoundrel who’ll say anything that’ll give you an advantage.’
He gave her a hurt look. ‘When have I not spoken the truth to you, Sasha?’