His Secretary's Surprise Fiance

He was about to seek out Adelaide when a feminine voice purred in his right ear.

“My lone wolf looks on edge tonight.” The low tone and soft consonants of Valentina’s Russian accent made him tense.

Turning, he avoided her attempt to kiss his cheek.

“If I’m on edge, it’s only because you’ve taken up the valuable time of my staff with empty threats and games.” He gave her a level look, noting that her barely there silver gown was completely over-the-top for a charity event that raised funds for underprivileged and at-risk youths.

“Your staff? Or your fiancée?” She tossed her head in a dismissive gesture meant to be insulting.

Dempsey had to smother a mirthless laugh because—damn it to hell—Adelaide had been correct about him dating theatrical women in slinky gowns. When had he become such a cliché?

“Both.” He was grateful they stood in the shadows, since he didn’t need photos of them together showing up in the paper. “And I trust the only reason you’re here is to write a big, fat check to the foundation, since we specifically agreed to go our separate ways.”

“Agreed? There was no agreement!” She pulled a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and helped herself to a long sip. “You dictated every detail of our time together, and then disappeared before my bed even had time to cool down—”

“Ms. Rushnaya, how beautiful you look.” Adelaide appeared at his side, slipping an arm through his. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but, Dempsey, we did promise a quick word with the representative from Town and Country before they leave.”

She nodded meaningfully toward the other side of the room.

“Of course.” He had always counted on Addy for well-timed interruptions, and she delivered yet again. Still, he didn’t like that she’d overheard the bit about running out of Valentina’s bed. He didn’t treat women that way. “Please excuse us.”

“Yes, do take your turn with Town and Country.” Valentina emptied her glass and set it on a nearby table, her movements unsteady. “I have my own press to speak with, Dempsey.”

She turned on her heel to march away, right toward a woman who had a camera aimed at them. Again.

“Dempsey.” Adelaide laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her, commanding his attention before the camera flashed. “There isn’t actually an interview,” she confided. “I was just trying to give you some breathing room.”

The look in her hazel eyes stole all his focus. Or maybe it was the gentle press of her breasts as she arched closer.

“Thank you.” How many times had she served as a buffer for him with the media or with football insiders he didn’t particularly like? She ran interference like a pro.

“Dance with me?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her gaze.

Had he put that vulnerability there? He hadn’t spent much time with her this evening, handling the room with the same “divide and conquer” approach they’d used in the past at events he’d needed to attend. But tonight was different. Or at least, it should be. If he’d had Adelaide by his side earlier, Valentina might not have tried to ambush him in a dark corner.

“With pleasure.” He lifted Adelaide’s hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss along her knuckles. Her skin smelled like roses.

He’d done it to reassure her that he wanted to be with her. To thank her for sending Valentina on her way.

At least, the kiss started out with good intentions. But as the slow blues tune hit a long, sultry note, Dempsey couldn’t seem to let her go. Adelaide was getting under his skin tonight, and it wasn’t just that damnable dress. So he flipped her hand over and placed a kiss in her palm, where he felt her pulse flutter under his lips. Which made him think about all the other ways he could send her heart racing. All the pulse points he could cover with his mouth. In turn, his own heart slugged harder inside his chest.

Every damn thing got harder.

“My song will be over by the time we get out there,” she whispered, though she didn’t sound terribly disappointed.

Her pupils dilated so wide there was just a hint of color around the edges.

“It’s less crowded right here.” He wanted her to himself, he realized. Craved her, in fact. “Plenty of room to dance.”

“Really?” She peered around them. “I guess it’s the kind of thing an engaged couple would do.”

“Exactly.” He pulled her into his arms, fitting her curves against him, close enough to catch her scent, but not nearly as close as he’d like. “No sense letting anyone think Valentina caused any drama.”