She looked… right in this setting.
Of course, he’d thought much the same thing that afternoon when he came inside to find her standing at the cabin window, wearing that hideous brown dress and pressing her fingertips against the glass and staring out across the Texas landscape.
Maybe it was just the costume. Tonight she wore a ball gown, so she looked like she belonged in the ballroom. This afternoon, she had been wearing a dress—a costume, literally—fashioned after a frontierswoman’s dress, so a cabin suited her then.
A dance floor on the far side of the room held several twirling couples.
“Do you dance?” Sophie turned those brown eyes toward him, and he found himself wanting to say yes to whatever she asked. He forced himself to think before he answered, however.
“I two-step a little,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug.
“Oh.” Sophie’s face fell. “I don’t know that one.”
“It’s easy enough,” Zeke said. “I might be able to teach you if they played the right kind of music.”
Tor leaned in from behind them, where he and Leta had just arrived. “Don’t believe a word he says, Sophie,” the billionaire said. “Unless he’s forgotten everything he used to know, he’s a damn fine dancer.” He cut his eyes toward his employee. “And this is the Cattlemen’s Ball. They will be playing appropriate music for a two-step.”
At that moment, the band struck up an acoustic version of “Waltz Across Texas with You”.
“I believe that is my cue to ask you to dance,” Zeke said. He held out his hand with a flourish and bowed in as ostentatious a way as he could manage.
Sophie’s true laugh pealed out of her, and Zeke stood up, grinning.
With a curtsy, Sophie placed her hand in his and said, “Why, thank you, kind sir,” in her best faux-Texan accent—which was actually an excellent imitation of the voices Zeke heard every day.
She’s a great actress, he realized again.
As they strolled toward the dance floor, Zeke said, “Do I need to teach you to waltz, too?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve had years of dance training—all part of being an actress.”
She held herself like a dancer, Zeke realized. She wasn’t very tall, but she was slim and strong, and she stood with perfect posture. She was a dream as a dance partner.
Hell, for that matter, she was a dream as any kind of partner, as far as he could tell.
Until he tried to teach her the swing version of the Texas two-step.
She did fine with the basic two-step, both slow and fast. “I don’t see why they’re both called the two-step, though,” she said. “They’re different dances.”
“They both have a variation on two steps.”
“But the other one is more like the foxtrot than it is like this step.”
Zeke snorted. “You think we should lobby to have the name changed? Call it the Texas Foxtrot instead?”
“Yes.” She grinned widely, her eyes twinkling up at him, and it was as if Zeke were the only man in the world.
I could get used to this.
If only that were possible.
When he tried to add turns and dips into the dance, though, Sophie seemed to lose all dance ability.
As soon as he moved his hand from her fingertips to her waist to show her the direction of the turn, she stumbled and tripped, falling into him.
Part of him wanted to slow the moment down to look at it closely—he was almost certain the zing he’d felt through his hand and up his arm had affected her, too.
At the same time, he wanted to fast-forward to the next touch, and the next, and the one after that.
In the end, he opted simply to enjoy what time he had with her.
And to tease her a bit.
“What happened to the woman who had years of dance training?” Zeke demanded, his voice faux-indignant. “And why have you replaced her?”
“No. No more,” she gasped through her laughter. “I give up. I quit. I cannot keep up with your strange Texas dances. Let’s go get a drink.”
Sophie was still clinging to his arms, doubled over in laughter, when Tor met them at the edge of the dance floor, his expression solemn.
He had only seen that particular look on his boss’s face when things were going particularly awry. Whatever had caused Tor’s frown, it couldn’t be good. Zeke glanced around to locate Leta, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her standing several feet away, chatting with a small group of other women. “What is it?” he asked.
Tor gestured them toward a secluded area near one of the windows. When they all got there, he stood facing the lights below, leaning toward Zeke and Sophie just enough to keep their conversation private. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Sophie. “Your publicist tracked down my number to call—apparently spent quite a bit of time doing it, too, so all of this is been up for a while.” With a tap of his thumb, he brought the phone to life and pulled up a series of images. Sophie gasped and started flipping through them so quickly that Zeke could barely tell what they were.
“What’s going on?” Zeke asked. Sophie handed him the phone wordlessly, then turned to Tor.
“Has Leta seen this yet?” she asked.
Zeke barely heard Tor’s negative response as he began flipping through the images himself. They were all photos of Tor and Sophie. It took a moment for Zeke to realize that all of the photos have been taken as the four of them had walked into the hotel for this ball. However, the images on the website at all of carefully cropped so that only Tor and Sophie showed. There was no sign of Zeke or Leta.
The bulk of the photos showed different angles of only a few seconds when Tor and Sophie had been speaking. But they were all grouped under the heading “The Billionaire and the Movie Star.”
“I am so sorry,” Sophie said. “This was not my intention at all.”
Tor opened his mouth to respond, but Zeke was already speaking. “Of course it wasn’t. You didn’t even know that I knew Tor until after you had asked me about tonight.”
Tor blinked in surprise at Zeke’s sudden forcefulness, but took a step back as Zeke clasped Sophie’s hands in his. “I have an idea,” Zeke said. “Follow me.” Before he led her away, he leaned over and murmured something to Tor. The billionaire nodded and headed off in the opposite direction.
“Where we going?” Sophie asked.
“Back to try that two-step again.” This time, as he spun her out onto the dance floor, Zeke was determined to make sure it was perfect.
“So part of your plan for this evening was to take the focus off of your breakup with the rock star and make you less interesting by associating with someone normal? Right?” Zeke kept his voice down as he spoke.
“Yes. But that’s ruined now. We know those pictures don’t mean anything, and everyone here tonight has seen the dance with you all night long. But the only thing that matters in my job is the broader public perception.” She sounded despondent.
Zeke glanced over her shoulder and saw Tor leading one of the paid photographers toward the dance floor.
“Let’s see what we can do to change that perception,” Zeke murmured.
This time, when he dipped her back over his arm and brought her back up, he pulled her tight against his chest.
She had just enough time to glance up at him, startled, with those wide brown eyes before he leaned down and claimed her lips with his own.
Chapter Ten
Over the course of her acting career, Sophie had probably kissed hundreds of men. But most of those had been stage kisses.
And for all that this kiss was supposed to be theatrical—and it was definitely designed to be caught on film—there was nothing at all insincere about it.
As a matter of fact, it might have been the hottest kiss she’d ever experienced. The feel of his firm lips against hers sent a shock through her entire body, leaving her shaking, trembling f
rom surprise. Almost without her volition, her arms snaked up around his neck. Her fingers threaded through the back of his sandy brown hair, tugging him closer to her as if she could make sure the kiss never ended.
A deep, possessive sound echoed from somewhere down in his chest and tightened his arms around her even as his tongue gently teased her lips open. The heat of him filled her senses, like a drug that left her dizzy and reeling and wanting more. He tasted like summer to her—hot and clean and fresh. Aching desire swept through her in a way she would never have expected.
It took her more than a moment to realize that the flashing lights were actually the camera flashbulbs going off and not some further effect of Zeke’s kiss. When he finally gently ended the kiss and pulled away from her just far enough to make eye contact, she laughed a little shakily.
“That was…” Her voice trailed off. “More intense than I would’ve expected,” she finally finished.
Zeke’s smile was all male and more than a little protective. “It’s exactly what I would’ve expected. Except the real thing is much better than anything I could’ve imagined.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tor give Zeke a little wave and a grin and head back to Leta.
“I need to call my publicist,” Sophie finally said, her voice trembling.
Zeke took the phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“Probably,” Sophie hedged.
“One more dance tonight, no matter what your publicist says you should do.”
“I promise,” she smiled as she stepped back toward the window where they’d had their earlier conference with Tor.
Her hands shook as she prepared to dial Eileen’s number on Tor’s phone.
This day had begun with Zeke saving her from an actual fire. It looks like he was about to save her from a virtual one as well. And for all that she had told him that this is not a real date, Sophie was beginning to wish that it was something more than make-believe.
* * *
Ten minutes later, she ended the call. When she turned around, Zeke was standing by a table several feet away—far enough away so that he couldn’t overhear her conversation, but close enough to keep an eye on her—and holding a champagne flute out toward her.
He might be the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met.
She accepted the glass gratefully and took a long drink.
Much better than sweet tea.
And almost as heady as Zeke’s kiss.
The band struck up a slow song. “Dance?” he asked.
Sophie nodded and placed her hand in his. When they reached the dance floor, she moved into his arms as if she belonged there, and rested her head against his shoulder.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked after a moment.
“My publicist is pretty sure this whole plan is a disaster. She thinks it would be better if I stayed in Dallas overnight and joined the rest of the cast and crew tomorrow morning for filming—going back out to Tor’s ranch will only feed the rumors that he’s really the one I’m involved with.”
“Right. Because that’s much more plausible than hooking up with a no-count ranch hand.”
“Hey.” She stared into his eyes intently. “I never said anything like that. Eileen wants to protect me.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Besides, you said you wanted to help, too.”
“I do,” he said. “How do you want to do this?”
“Eileen’s already booked me a room here for the night.”
“So I just … leave you here?”
The sense of devastation that washed through her at the words surprised her. “I guess so,” she said.
This was stupid. She’d just met the man that morning.
That’s what she told herself, anyway.
But she knew that she would like the chance to get to know him better. In the course of just one day, he had made her laugh more than she had in longer than she could remember.
Even now, he tried to cheer her up.
“Ah, hell,” he whispered into her hair. “If I go running back home after you dress me up and take me to the ball, does that make me Cinderella?”
“Only if you leave one of your cowboy boots behind for me to find you with,” she snickered.
He laughed with her. “Not likely. These things are hell to get off.”
“Good. I don’t want a stinky old boot, anyway.”
Pulling back far enough to frown at her indignantly, he said, in his snootiest tone, “These are my dress boots. They are not stinky.” He paused, his gaze on her face considering. “I really should have found a way to bring a work boot along. Now those can get pretty ripe.”
“Gee,” she replied dryly. “What a lovely gift idea. I think I’ll suggest it as a giveaway at our screening of this film.”
“You know, I didn’t even have a chance to ask you what the movie is about.” He twirled her around, spinning them across the dance floor.
“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly, “the usual. Tough cowboy, pretty girl, evil bad guys. Some gunfights, few kisses.”
“A few stinky work boots,” Zeke added.
With that, he kissed her through the laughter one more time before leading her off the dance floor to say goodbye to Tor and Leta.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Sophie call down for coffee. She usually didn’t drink much caffeine, but the day before had been exhausting. The more she considered everything that it happened, from beginning to end, the stranger it seemed. Like a story that might’ve happened to someone else.
It was too unreal to be believed, she decided. And because of that, she was just going to pretend that there was nothing to it. It had been an entertaining interlude. Nothing more.
Nothing at all like a fairy tale.
So why can’t I quit thinking about that one cowboy and his magical kiss?
When room service arrived at her door, she pulled on the hotel bathrobe. Eileen was having clothing delivered in the next hour, along with a car and the driver to take her back out to Necessity. Milo had apparently followed through and arranged for the next film location to be prepped. They would be back on track by this afternoon as if nothing untoward had happened, though the production company and their insurance would be out quite a bit of money to repair the damage to The Chargrill.
Opening the door, she was surprised to see the room service waiter bringing in a cart with not only her coffee, but also a large platter with a silver warming dome on the tray. He wheeled in the little table and placed it near the desk.
“I don’t think that’s mine,” she said. “I only ordered coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is yours. I’m sure of it.” He grinned in a way that almost made her nervous.
“As a general rule, I don’t accept deliveries that I have not ordered.” She made her voice is imposing she possibly could.
“I would be happy to open it for you,” the deliveryman said, his grin growing wider.
“Do you know what’s in it?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” His eyes danced with mischief as, with a flourish, he lifted the round dome off the plate.
There, atop hotel china, sat a single, black cowboy boot.
Sophie burst into laughter.
“I have Cinderella’s boot,” she said aloud.
“There’s more, ma’am.” He pulled a note out from under the plate. Sophie took it, almost afraid to open it for fear of ruining the moment. When she finally managed to read it, the note had only one line and no signature:
I think Cinderella shouldn’t have played it so coy.
* * *
Zeke stood just outside the perimeter the film crew had erected around the old bank building in downtown Necessity.
He’d been waiting there for almost an hour.
Colton stood next to him. “You know, you could go in with me. I’m the Fire Marshal. They need me there. And I t
old him yesterday that you were my assistant. There’s nothing keeping us out.”
“Shut up, Colton.”
“You sure have gotten full of yourself since you started dating Sophie Daniels,” Colton muttered.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Bullshit, man. I saw the pictures of that kiss. It’s all over the internet this morning.”
Zeke’s jaw clenched. “We are not dating.”
Yet.
“You know you look like an idiot with only one boot on, right?”
“Colton,” Zeke warned his friend, who just laughed cheerfully.
He’d felt like an idiot the night before when he limped out to be picked up by Tor’s limo wearing only one boot and one sock. Tor and Leta had frowned and clearly wanted to ask questions but chose not to, a kindness that Zeke couldn’t decide if he appreciated or not.
Zeke continued to scan the street anxiously. This time, when a black car drove up, he felt his stomach tighten. The sight of Sophie’s waving chestnut hair blowing in the slight breeze as she got out of the car, however, calmed his nerves.
Now he’d find out if that beginning of the connection that he had felt with Sophie Daniels had been only in his mind, or if it was something they might explore together.
When Sophie turned around and saw him leaning against his truck, wearing only one black boot, a wide grin split her face.
Zeke barely heard Colton say, “I’ll be inside, man.” He was too busy watching Sophie duck the perimeter and make her way to him.
When she was close enough for him to hear her, she held up the boot and said, “I think this is yours.”
“That it is,” he replied, unable to hold back his own wide smile.
Without a word, she walked up close to him, set his boot on the hood of his pickup truck, wrapped her arms around him, and planted her lips on his.
When she came up for air, they were both gasping.
Glancing at the crowd of photographers who surrounded them, he said, “You do realize that now we’re going to have to work extra hard to convince my friends that we really are dating, right?”
Saving Necessity (Necessity, Texas) Page 4
