He grimaced. “Comes with the territory. For the most part NASCAR drivers only drive two days a week. Qualifying and race day. The rest of the time we’re on the road schmoozing for the sponsors. Reynard Hotels loves swanky parties like this.”
And Vincent Reynard’s hotel chain sponsored Toby’s racing team. “You don’t?”
“Depends on the reason I’m there.” He drew alongside Amelia and Dominic. “Hey, buddy, switch?”
Madeline’s insides snarled. She should have known a competitive guy like Toby would have an agenda. But it was too late to escape the man she’d hoped to avoid.
Dominic stopped and released Amelia. “Certainly. Thank you for the dance, Amelia.”
He bowed slightly.
Darn, she liked that stupid little bow.
Toby whisked her none-too-happy friend away.
Madeline stood in the middle of the floor and met Dominic’s gaze while the other guests drifted past them. “I don’t want to dance with you.”
“The floor is the best place for us unless you are ready to leave.” Dominic’s hand captured hers. The only way to escape his unbreakable grip was to cause a scene—not part of the plan if she wanted to avoid more publicity.
“Are you kidding me? I just got here.”
He pulled her into the circle of his arms and spread his palm on her nak*d back just above her buttocks. Her pulse tripped. She hoped her feet wouldn’t embarrass her by doing likewise.
She searched for a distraction from the heat of his hand on her skin and tried to ignore the slide of his thighs against hers as he guided her across the floor. “Where’s the towering twosome? Did you check your bodyguards at the door?”
“Ian and Makos remained outside as did Fernand.”
“Who is Fernand?”
“Your protection.”
She stumbled then and fell into his broad chest. His arm banded around her waist, welding her to the hot, hard length of his torso and keeping her there. He continued dancing without missing an orchestral beat. “My what?”
“You have had security since Wednesday.”
“You’ve had someone following me?” The erotic rasp of his tuxedo jacket sleeve against her back tightened her throat, making her words come out in a husky whisper.
“I told you I would.”
“Yes, but…” She rewound the reel of events in her head. Had she done anything she wouldn’t want reported back to Dominic? Because she’d bet his spy guy was doing exactly that. “I haven’t seen him.”
“You weren’t supposed to.” His smooth-shaven chin brushed her temple as he executed a series of quick turns that required her to cling to him or fall on her face. Ballroom dancing had never been her thing, but she had to admit following his lead was easier than expected. Good thing, since sprawling on the floor given her attire, or lack thereof, would be humiliating.
“Why do I need a shadow?”
“There are those who might believe that because you’re my lover—”
Stumble. “I’m not anymore.”
“—you might be a valuable negotiating piece,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted.
Fear crept up her spine like a big, hairy spider. She leaned back to look into his eyes. Unfortunately, that pressed their h*ps together. “I’m in danger because I slept with you?”
“Probably not. As you pointed out, Montagnarde is off the radar for most, but I prefer to be proactive rather than reactive. And while you are mine I will protect you.”
The possessive words made her skin tingle. And then she remembered to object. “I. Am. Not. Yours.”
The hand on her back lifted, giving her a momentary reprieve and an opportunity to fill her wheezy lungs, but then Dominic traced the edge of her dress from her shoulder to the base of her spine. The tips of his fingers slid just beneath the fabric and his short nails raked lightly across the top of her cheeks. She shivered, cursed her traitorous hormones and sent out a mental SOS to her willpower. Wherever it might be.
“You look lovely tonight. Very sexy. Come back to my suite with me, Madeline,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear.
Stumble. He caught her even closer—something she would not have believed physically possible five seconds ago. Even through the heavy chain mail weight of her dress she could feel his thickening arousal against her belly. Flames of desire flickered through her and her resistance softened like warm candle wax. She was so close to melting it wasn’t even funny.
But the man had broken rule number one. He’d lied to her.
And still…she wanted him. Shamelessly.
Girl, you are absolutely pitiful. But she couldn’t help remembering how good it had been between them, how amazingly wonderful he’d made her feel or how he listened to every word as if she were going to utter the secret to world peace in her next sentence.
You are in serious trouble. “Get me off this floor,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Or else what?” A smile played on his lips as he pulled her into another series of complicated make-her-cling-to-him steps. “You’ll pull a weapon? Because I don’t see where you could possibly conceal one beneath that dress. It caresses your curves the way I want to.”
Stumble. Help. She could not argue and concentrate on fancy footwork at the same time. She planted her feet, shoved his rock-hard chest and yanked free of his hold. “Do you really want to test me here and now, Dominic?”
Ignoring the curious stares of those around her, he held her gaze as if considering calling her bluff, but then inclined his head and led her toward the edge of the floor. They had barely stepped out of the crowd when a woman wearing a take-me-I’m-yours smile appeared in front of him.
“Bonsoir, Your Highness. Remember me?”
Dominic made introductions, but Madeline only half listened to the simpering blonde’s chatter about past parties and people Madeline knew nothing about. She scanned the well-heeled guests looking for her suitemates and a possible rescue. She spotted Stacy and Franco and Vincent and Candace, but both couples were totally wrapped up in each other. There was no sign of Amelia and/or Toby.
“…come by my apartment later?” the blonde said.
Huh? Madeline blinked in disbelief and tuned back into the conversation. Had that she-cat just propositioned Dominic despite his hand planted firmly on Madeline’s waist?
Hello! What am I? Invisible? “Excuse us, Dominic was about to get me a glass of champagne.” She grabbed his arm and urged him toward the bar and then jerked to a stop. Argh. Is your brain on hiatus? She’d wanted to escape him, and she’d just wasted a perfect opportunity. She should have let the she-cat have him.
So why didn’t you? She had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.
“Thank you,” he said.
Before she could tell him to take his gratitude and shove it, the catty incident replayed itself again and again and again. Different woman. Same pounce. Every three yards. Jeez, fighting off the felines was exhausting. Forget champagne. At the rate they were going she’d need an entire bottle of gin to wash down the fur balls by the time they reached the bar.
Patience deserted her and she yearned to scratch a few overly made-up eyes out. While Dominic clearly did not enjoy or encourage the attention, he remained unfailingly polite each time. Most men would have been ecstatic to hear so many come-ons in a single evening, but not him. Why was that? Was his little black book already full? Or did he consider Madeline a sure thing?
She found the encounters pretty darn insulting since it meant these pedigreed felines didn’t consider her competition, and she’d had enough.
“Excuse me. I guess you missed the fact that he’s with me,” she interrupted a woman about to spill from her rhinestone-studded collar—um, dress.
“Dominic, dahling,” Madeline purred in a throaty voice similar to the ones his accosters had used, “I could use that double martini you promised me right about now.”
Laughter lurked in his eyes as they said their goodbyes, and then Madeline nudged him not toward the bar but toward a quiet corner. “Is there some kind of contest to see who carries home the richest prize at the end of the evening?”
The first genuine smile she’d seen in an hour curved his lips. “You have discovered the secret.”
“Is that why you wanted to stay on the dance floor? To avoid the stalking women?”
“An apt description.”
“Why don’t you just tell them to get lost?”
He glanced toward the gathering and then back at her. “I can’t.”
“Some princely code or something?” But she didn’t wait for his answer. “If it’s always like this, then why do you come to these things?”
“Usually I come because I want to entice their business to Montagnarde.” His blue gaze held hers as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Tonight I came because I wanted to hold you in my arms.”
Her knees weakened and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. The room seemed to fade until all that remained was him and the desire burning in his eyes. For her. In this room full of beautiful, elegant, worldly, predatory women, he wanted her.
“Good answer,” she wheezed.
And why are you resisting? She mentally smacked a palm against her forehead. She’d wanted a man to help her heal her fractured ego and rebuild her confidence. Dominic did that. He made her feel feminine and desirable. He gave her multiple-o’s.
He’d reminded her more times than she could count that here and now was all they’d have. But that was okay. More than okay. A brief vacation fling was exactly what she wanted.
It wasn’t as if she’d let herself fall in love or imagine marrying him. Just as well since Dominic, like Prince Charles, probably had to marry a virgin. And she wasn’t one. Not even close.
Between tonight, the incident with the paparazzi and having to sneak in and out back doors all week she could even understand Dominic’s motivation for concealing his identity. But he was selling himself short if he truly believed these women wanted him only for his title and fortune. Dominic Rossi, Prince of Montagnarde, was a gorgeous piece of work, and every time she looked at him she recalled the perfection of his nak*d body and the way he made her body sing.
She’d bet the drooling females wanted a chance to do the same. Knowing she knew something the other more sophisticated women didn’t made her feel just a teensy bit superior.
And you’re wasting time here when you could be getting your hands on all that perfection. Her pulse quickened and her mouth dried. She tightened her fingers around his. “Get me out of here, Prince, and you can hold me in your arms without a ten-pound dress between us.”
The flash of heat in his eyes nearly consumed her on the spot. “As you wish.”
Chapter 8
Apparently the wealthy didn’t wait for cabs or even valet service.Within seconds of her shameless declaration Dominic had hustled her out of the gala and into a waiting limo which he’d summoned with one touch on his cell phone. She chose the bench seat facing the limo’s rear window.