Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1)

“Pay attention to your steps,” he ordered, dragging her thoughts back to the dance as he dragged her feet back into the rhythm of the waltz.

Faith focused her attention on her feet. Her face colored in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It was—”

“Forget it.”

The music ended. They whirled to a stop.

“But—”

Reese grasped her elbow. “Just forget it.” He looked around and spotted a waiter. “I need a drink.” Tiny dots of perspiration marked his upper lip. His breathing was ragged. His body throbbed in frustration.

“So, do I.” She licked her lips.

Reese stared at her, his right eyebrow quirked at an angle. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Her chest rose and fell so quickly her breasts threatened to spill over the embroidered neckline of her gown. A trickle of moisture slid over the rounded slopes, then down the valley, disappearing into the silk of her undergarments. His taste buds itched to sample the salty droplets. He leaned toward her, intent on capturing her lips beneath his own.

Her eyes widened, softened to a warm, pewter color, then slowly closed.

“Sorry. Excuse me.” A man’s sharp elbow caught Reese in the rib cage. Reese turned to find the culprit and was instantly reminded of his surroundings.

He stood at the edge of the dance floor, Faith Collins scant inches away from him. A dozen or so couples pushed past them on their way into dinner.

“Reese! Reese Jordan!”

Faith’s eyes snapped open at the sound.

Reese turned to his left.

Senator Darcy motioned to him. “Over here, my boy. There’s someone I want you to meet. He’d like your opinion on something.”

Biting back a groan, Reese offered Faith his arm. She tucked her hand inside the crook of his elbow.

Immediately realizing his mistake, Reese clamped his mouth shut in an effort to gain control over his body. A muscle in his jaw began to tic under the strain, and Reese wondered how in the hell he was going to manage to talk with his mouth closed. But he suffered in silence as he led Faith over to the senator with about as much enthusiasm as a man marching to the gallows.

Chapter Eleven

Negotiating the contract was hell. The two parties faced each other across the width of a cherry dining table brought in for the occasion. Faith Collins and Temperance Hamilton sat on one side. Reese Jordan and David Alexander sat on the other. A stack of legal contracts was centered between them, occupying neutral territory.

The silver coffee pot was considered neutral territory by necessity. It was in great demand that early in the morning. The participants tended to monopolize it, especially, since two of the four, negotiators were nursing headaches of monstrous proportions.

The battle lines had been drawn, the parties, stalemated, on either side. David looked at Reese, then at Faith. “Let’s go over the terms of the contract once again.”

“We’ve been over the contract,” Reese interrupted. “What’s the point of going over it again?”

“The point,” David said firmly, “is t

o sign it. Neither of you has agreed to do that yet.”

“She has to sign it. I’ve already paid an advance on her salary,” Reese stated.

“I’ve already spent the money. I can’t give it back,” Faith reminded him.

“The least you can do is sign the damned contract.” Reese glared at her. He hadn’t slept, and he had a bitch of a headache. He was in no mood to negotiate every point of the contract.

“Not the way it stands.” Faith gritted her teeth and rubbed her forehead. Her head ached, probably from all the champagne she’d consumed. Why hadn’t he warned her about the effects of too much champagne?

“What’s wrong with it?” Reese was spoiling for a fight and it was all Faith’s fault. If she hadn’t worn that damn red dress, he wouldn’t have been in this condition.

“Everything.” Faith crossed her arms over her chest. The man reeked. He smelled like a saloon of cigar smoke, alcohol, and expensive perfume. How dare he show up looking and smelling this way? It was insulting. As insulting as being ignored all evening while he talked politics with Yankee robber barons, and then being dropped off at the front desk of a hotel at two o’clock in the morning without so much as a goodnight kiss! He had some nerve!