“What was that all about?” he asked finally against her hair.
“What?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.
“Your Medusa impersonation when you were introduced to Bentley Mathison. I thought you were going to turn him to stone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If I did have a reaction, it’s only because the man is a shameless unreformed criminal.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Strong words.”
“Your sister seemed to have a similar reaction.”
“Yeah, but she’s in the business of being the scourge of society’s criminal element. You, on the other hand, are in the business of getting information however you can get it.”
“Not from Bentley Mathison,” she said sharply. Then added less stridently, “And since when are you befriending former criminals?”
“Hey, hey,” he said soothingly. “I didn’t say I like the guy. I just wasn’t going to create a scene when he approached me in the middle of a charity gala. Besides, he paid his debt to society by serving his prison sentence.”
She looked away. “Maybe there are other debts that are still outstanding.”
“What?” Noah asked.
Realizing she’d muttered aloud, she said, “Never mind. I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing she wanted to do was give Noah Whittaker more personal information about herself.
He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but then he simply nodded.
They danced in silence. And, despite being distracted by the presence of Bentley Mathison, she felt an electric awareness course through her at Noah’s nearness. Being pressed against his muscular frame, she experienced a strange fluttery sensation in her midsection.
When the song ended, he guided her off the dance floor. “Now, let’s get back to you and Bentley Mathison.”
It took her a second to digest what he’d said, caught up as she still was in the sensation of having been held against him. She gave him a sidelong look. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s just too bad even a prison sentence doesn’t mean social disgrace anymore.”
He shrugged. “Maybe disgrace is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Too true,” she said, half to herself.
Just then she noticed Bentley Mathison was standing in their path along with his wife and another couple. If they continued walking on as they were, they’d be forced back into conversation with him, and from the looks of it, that’s what Mathison was hoping for.
She stopped and clutched Noah’s arm.
He looked down at her, a question in his eyes. “What?” He cut himself off as he looked up again and caught sight of Bentley Mathison.
Glancing back at her, he muttered, “All right, you want to come clean about this?”
She gave a small defeated nod. “But first get me out of here.” Her voice sounded strained to her own ears.
In a deft maneuver, he turned, pretended to recognize someone across the room, and half pulled, half dragged her along with him as he strode past several tables.
They were outside the tent within minutes, and she took a deep breath.
“You okay?” Noah asked, and she was surprised to see genuine concern etched on his face. “You look pale.”
“Fine…I’m fine.” She took another breath, then said in a rush, “Bentley Mathison is my biological father but he doesn’t know it.”
Noah raised his eyebrows, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Your secrets pack a punch, I’ll say that.”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have any.”
“Then why keep any?” he said.
She looked at him askance. “It’s not easy telling someone that my ancestry is one-quarter Cuban, one-quarter English, and one-half jerk.”
“You’re not the jerk. He is,” he said with conviction.
She was close to tears and wondering now what had possessed her to blurt out one of her most closely-held secrets. And to Noah, of all people! Why, all he had to do was relay that juicy tidbit to Sybil LaBreck and Kayla would be cooked, roasted over the open fire of the public’s flaming need for scandal.
As if reading her mind, Noah said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, and especially not Sybil LaBreck.” He looked around. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home.”
“But we arrived only a short time ago.”
He took her arm. “You’re in no shape to go back in there and face Bentley and company, not to mention Buffy the Man Slayer. And, for the record, neither am I. Let’s go.”
“Thanks.” She was relieved he was taking charge, and surprised at his understanding.
She stole a glance at him. He was frowning and looking formidable. Yet, strangely, right this second, she found she liked him better than she ever had.
Noah flipped the light switch as they entered her apartment.
What a night. First, he’d been cornered by Buffy, then Sybil LaBreck had stopped him to ask irritating and probing questions about the true nature of his relationship with Kayla. She suspected all was not as it appeared, or at least as he’d been insisting publicly. He’d finally gotten rid of her with a dismissive comment.
And, to top off the evening, of course, he’d never have guessed Kayla was Bentley Mathison’s biological daughter.
No wonder she seemed to have issues with men. Particularly rich, to-the-mansion-born types, a class into which he fell.
What was it that her sister had started to say before being cut off? Something about Kayla’s dislike for him not being personal. After tonight, he understood why: Kayla’s issue was with all guys who bore a superficial similarity to Bentley Mathison.
Yet, the joke was on him. Because he’d been checking his symptoms and there was no doubt about it: he had a major case of lust for Kayla.
He watched as Kayla set her sequined purse on the table. With her back still to him, she lifted the hair from her neck and shook her head. He lapped up the view of her smooth, bare back before the curtain of sleek hair fell back into place.
He cleared his throat and she glanced back at him over her shoulder.
She looked doe-eyed and lost for a second. Her shoulders lowered. “Sorry, I’m being rude,” she murmured.
“I was just going to ask if you needed anything. A glass of wine, coffee.” Me.
He tamped down the well of lust that came unbidden with that last thought.
She forced a little laugh as she turned fully toward him. “Quite a role reversal. Those are things I should be asking you.”