Free Sawyer, Meryl by A Kiss in the Dark Page B

it had a dramatic flair. This gown
had a bare back that plunged to her waist, exposing most of her back, a stark
contrast to the demure front.
    "So, where's the parsley king?" Royce asked.
    "He's inspecting the vintage wine, trying to decide if he should
bid or not."
    "Here's a tip. The king is into escarole and endive—big time.
Tonight, if it's green and it's on your plate, eat it."
    "You're too much," Val said with her familiar smile, a
smile Royce had rarely seen since her divorce.
    "Let's check out the jewels from Cartier." Royce looked
at the long table with security guards standing behind the display cases.
"Talia is over there."
    By the time they'd winnowed their way through the mob, Talia had
disappeared into the throng.
    "Don't turn around," Val cautioned, her voice low.
"Mitch Durant is coming this way."
    "What's he doing here? He never attends charity events."
Royce turned her back to the aisle, feigning interest in a Frette comforter on
display. She kept her head down, determined to avoid Mitch. Although she didn't
turn, every muscle tensed, alert to his presence. For a minute he waited behind
her, not saying a word, but she could feel the heat of his body.
    "Hello, Royce." The tone was thoroughly masculine,
undeniably Mitch's voice.
    She had no choice but to turn and face him. He stunned her with a
smile, not just a casual grin, but an affectionate one. Wasn't he angry? The
last time she'd seen Mitch, he'd been furious. Somehow she stumbled through an
introduction to Val.
    "Excuse me," Val said with a apologetic glance at Royce.
"My date is waiting."
    Royce could have killed her, except the parsley king was trapped
by the mob in the mock vineyard, waving for Val to join him.
    "Last night was great, wasn't it?"
    Caught off-guard by his friendliness, she managed a nod. Mitch
didn't wait for her answer, nor did he attempt to hide his gaze. His eyes
roamed down her shoulders to her breasts to the flare of her hips, then up
again, lingering on her lips.
    The last time she'd been this close to him, she'd been in his
arms. She battled the unexpected urge to move closer, sucking in a quick breath
and stepping back. For the life of her she couldn't explain her reaction to
this man.
    "You're clever, Royce. You had everyone in town talking about
your show. Arnie loved it."
    Arnold Dillingham had liked the show, she thought with pride. He'd
sent her five dozen long-stemmed roses this morning. With the flowers was a
note saying her Q-factor was unbelievably high. The Q measured name recognition
and audience approval. Eleanor Farenholt could go to hell. Freckles, wayward
curls, were what the public wanted, not sleek blondes whose only talent was
reading the TelePromp-Ter.
    She spun around, pretending to be interested in the comforter,
deliberately being rude. Why didn't Mitch just go away? But he moved closer—or
maybe it was her imagination. The man to her right had just bumped her. The
room was far too crowded.
    Mitch's warm hand touched her bare back. Royce froze, shuddering
inside. His touch set off a depth charge of excitement. Get away from him, she
told herself, but she couldn't move. There were people on either side of her
and Mitch stood directly behind her. Or maybe she didn't want to move.
    Maybe she wanted to see what Mitch would do next. Every nerve she
possessed was on full alert. Mitch had a devastating effect on her. Her mind
might hate him, but her body had other ideas.
    He hovered near her, his head just behind her ear. For a moment he
didn't say anything, letting his warm breath ruffle her hair. When he spoke,
his voice was low, smoky. "Did you tell him, Royce?"
    "Tell who?" she asked, not daring to turn and face
Mitch.
    Instead of answering he slid his hand lower and lower... and lower
yet. The heat in his fingers sent chills across her breasts. And a surge of
heat that unfurled in the pit of her stomach. This wasn't really happening, was
it?
    "Don't!" She elbowed him in the ribs and tried to turn
around,