Hutch led her onto the floor and tucked her against his chest. With Simone wearing heels, they could have kissed easily. He inhaled sharply, dizzy from the scent of delicate perfume and warm female skin.
He held her firmly, confidently. As they twirled around the room, he saw people watching them. All male eyes were on Simone. She would stand out in any crowd with her dark hair and sexy dress. His arms tightened around her. No man in the room was good enough for her, not even him.
Over the past few weeks, Simone had told him stories about the headaches involved in planning tonight’s event. The committee had squabbled over which band to hire. A few people wanted a modern, trendy group. But in the end, given the stately atmosphere of the hotel and the knowledge that the crowd would include a variety of ages, the decision was made to go with a small orchestra. The playlist included songs from all decades, primarily the kind of romantic pieces that encouraged slow dancing cheek
to cheek.
Hutch thought it was a brilliant strategy. When a man dressed up in a monkey suit and took a woman out on the town, he wanted to be able to hold her. Vertical foreplay. That’s what it was. And he couldn’t wait to get Simone horizontal.
Occasionally, the band would break into a fast, snappy number so the folks who really knew how to dance had a chance to shine out on the floor. Simone was a good dancer, and Hutch was decent...but she begged off because of the babies. Her lengthy illness had sapped her stamina. Now she appeared to be slowing down. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m dying of thirst,” she said, leaning into him. “And I wouldn’t mind sampling that menu I’ve spent weeks planning.”
Sixteen
Hutch steered a path to the buffet with Simone in tow. The spread was amazing, even by Royal’s standards. Prime rib, of course. After all, this was cattle country. But also chicken kebabs skewered with vegetables, crab puffs and enormous prawns iced down in a magnificent crystal bowl. Not to mention all the usual accoutrements.
“Well,” he said. “Anything you want me to avoid?” He was keenly aware that even the sight of certain foods was enough to set off Simone’s nausea. This was her special night. He didn’t want to take any chances.
She leaned her head against his shoulder momentarily. “That’s sweet of you, Hutch. I think I’m okay, though. I won’t attempt the caviar, but everything else looks good to me right now.”
They filled their plates to overflowing and sought out a table for two in a distant corner. Large potted plants provided cover for discreet trysts. “Was this your idea?” he asked as he held out her chair and helped her get seated. They were sheltered, although not completely private, of course.
She popped a carrot stick in her mouth and grinned. “Romance is alive and well in Royal...didn’t you know?”
“I’ll grab us a couple of drinks.”
“Plain tap water, please.”
When he returned moments later, Simone sat with her chin on her hand staring at a large stuffed mushroom with a frown. He handed a glass. “What’s wrong?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about this one.”
“Then for God’s sake, don’t take any chances,” he said. He filched the mushroom and popped it into his mouth. Fortunately, the rest of her choices were winners.
The food was excellent, but he knew he was in trouble when just watching her eat made him hard again. Soft lips. Small white teeth. Lord help him. Simone was oblivious to his mood, her gaze tracking various couples on the dance floor. She named them off one by one.
“How do you do that?” he asked. “Isn’t the whole point of a masquerade ball anonymity? I know I’ve been away a long time, but I only managed to spot a few people I could identify for sure.”
“I cheated,” she confessed. “I was the one who processed all the names and built the spreadsheet. Even with everyone wearing masks, I think I could name most of them.”
“My hat’s off to you. I’m guessing a few of those couples who responded were a surprise?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely. I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“Isn’t that taking secret identities a step too far, Mata Hari?”
“You could always try to torture it out of me.”
Her big blue eyes were wide and innocent. When she stuck out her tongue to catch a bit of cocktail sauce at the corner of her mouth, he sighed. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
“Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “You think you’re safe from retaliation because we’re in a public place, but fair warning, my sweet. I could toss you over my shoulder, walk out of here to the front desk and get a room.”
“You wouldn’t...” She eyed him askance.