There was a chuckle deep in his throat. “So perfect?”
“Perfect flowers, perfect dinner, perfect sky.”
He looked up with her. “All it takes is a little forethought and planning.”
She tipped her head back down. “And you are the planner.”
“I am the planner.”
“Ever do anything without a plan?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing?”
He shrugged. “What would be the point?”
The quartet segued into another waltz, and Daniel gathered her even closer. She shouldn’t like this. Didn’t want to like this. It was bad enough fantasizing about him when she was alone in the back of a limo. Fantasizing about him in his arms was downright dangerous.
“It might be fun,” she said, forcing herself to keep the conversation going. Last thing she wanted was to give her sexy thoughts free rein.
“What’s fun about disorganization?” he asked.
The wind gusted, blowing a strand of hair across her face. “I’m talking spontaneity.”
He tucked the wayward hair behind her ear, his blunt fingertips brushing her cheek. “Spontaneity is just another word for chaos.”
She shook the hair loose again. “Spontaneity is doing what you want when you want.”
“That’s just flighty.”
“Are you calling me flighty?”
He touched his forehead to hers and sighed. “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just saying I don’t change so much in a week that I want completely different things by the end of it.”
“What about in a month, in a year?”
“There are different levels of planning.”
Amanda drew back, her feet coming to a stop. “You actually have something planned for a year down the road?”
“Of course.”
“No way.”
“There’s the annual budget cycle, reservations, conferences. You don’t just hop on a plane to Paris and throw up an EPH display at the European Periodical League.”
“But what if something changes?”
He pulled her back into the dance, stroking his warm palm along her spine and making her shiver. “What would change? I mean fundamentally?”
Despite her effort to keep up a good argument, her voice was growing softer, more sultry than the moist night air. “But don’t you ever just want to live life on the fly?”
“No.”
“Not even the little things?”
“Amanda.” His voice went gravelly, and his hand continued its leisurely path up and down her spine. “There are no little things.”
Now that was just plain crazy. “What about dinner? Wouldn’t it have been fun to pick a restaurant on the spur of the moment?”
There was a chuckle in his voice as he danced them toward one of the outer railings. “You mean you’d have rather waited in line for two hours to get a table?”
Mustering her fading energy, she smacked her hand against his arm. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.”
“I’m being deliberately logical. Planning doesn’t take the fun out of life. It keeps the fun in life because it takes out the worry.”
She looked up at him again. “Get out on a limb once in a while.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’ll make you feel alive.”
He paused, brushing the wayward hair from her face again. This time her shiver was obvious.
“You think?” he asked softly.
“I know,” she said with assurance.
“Okay. Here’s something you probably didn’t plan on.”
Her interest perked up. “Yeah?”
He nodded, slowly drawing her toward him. “Yeah.” He bent down, slanting his mouth.
Her eyes went wide. Uh-oh. There was spontaneity and then there was spontaneity.
“This,” he whispered as his lips touched hers.
It was a gentle kiss. His lips barely parted, and the arm at her back eased rather than pulled her against his body.
It couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds, but a frenzy of desire thrummed to life inside her. The silver stars blurred inside her head and her knees went weak.
Then he opened his mouth, and the image melted. She clung to his shoulders, silently repeating his name over and over inside her head.
Just when her frenzied words threatened to break free, he ended the kiss.
They stared at each other, standing still amongst the swaying couples, breathing deeply for long minutes.
“Didn’t plan on that, did you?” he finally asked.
She considered the glint in his eye. “Did you?”
“Oh, yeah. All week.”
“What?”
He chuckled low. “I’m a planner, Amanda. That’s just the way it is.”
“But—”
“And I don’t think my careful planning distracted from my enjoyment one little bit.”
Amanda drew back. He’d planned to kiss her?
A frightening thought entered her head, and she tightened her grip on his arms to steady herself. “Please tell me you haven’t got anything else planned.”
His white teeth flashed in the lantern light. “It’s probably better if I don’t answer that.”
Eight
Daniel’s intercom buzzed on Monday morning, and Nancy’s voice came through the speaker. “Mrs. Elliott to see you.”
Amanda? Here?
Daniel could hardly believe it.
She’d seemed so jumpy after their kiss on Friday night, he’d decided to back off for a few days.
Maybe he’d been unwise to tip his hand. But he wanted to date her, and he wanted her to know that he was interested. The more he saw of her, the more he remembered what they had together, and the more he wanted to recapture the magic.
He stood up from his desk and straightened his tie, smoothing back his hair with one hand.
“Daniel?” came Nancy’s voice again.
He pushed the intercom button. “Send her in.”
The door opened and he put a welcoming smile on his face.
Then the smile died.
It was Sharon.
The other Mrs. Elliott.
She marched into his office, all five foot three of her, almost painfully thin with hair that had seen way too many salon treatments. Her blue eyes crackled as she swung the door behind her. It closed with a bang.
Daniel braced himself.
“I don’t know what the hell you thought you were up to,” she hissed, advancing on his desk.
“Up to?”
“Hoffman’s?”
He dropped down into his chair and shuffled through a stack of papers. “Is there something I can help you with, Sharon?”
She paced in front of his desk. “Yes, there’s something you can help me with. You can uphold the terms of our divorce agreement.”
“You got this month’s check.” She’d cashed it within hours.
“I’m not talking about the money,” she all but screeched. “I’m talking about our agreement.”
“Our agreement to what?” Daniel signed the letter in front of him, then moved his attention to a marketing report. “I’ve got a busy morning here.” And he didn’t want to waste valuable brain space focused on Sharon when he could be daydreaming about Amanda. He wondered if she was busy for lunch.
Sharon placed both her hands on Daniel’s desktop and leaned forward. It was hard for an overbleached pixie to look intimidating, but she was doing her best. “Our agreement to tell our friends I was the one who left you.”
“I never told them any different.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Daniel.”
He glanced at his watch. “Can we skip to the point? I’ve got a ten o’clock with Michael.”
Her jaw clenched, and her eyes wrinkled up despite two very expensive surgeries. “Nobody’s going to believe me if you’re necking on the dance floor with some other woman.”
Daniel squared his shoulders. “That wasn’t another
woman. It was Amanda.”
Sharon waved a hand. “Whatever, you just—”
“And we weren’t necking.”
“Stay away from her, Daniel.”
“No.”
Sharon’s pale blue eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?”
He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “I said no.”
“How dare—”
“I dare because you and I are divorced, and I will see whomever I want whenever I want.”
“We had an agreement,” she sputtered.
“I agreed to lie once to save your reputation. It’s over. We’re done. You have absolutely no say in my life anymore. Got that?” Particularly when it came to Amanda. Daniel wasn’t taking direction from anyone ever again when it came to Amanda. Well, maybe Cullen. But that was only because Cullen was smart, and Daniel happened to agree with him on this.
Sharon put on a pretty pout, and her expression was almost magically transformed. It was embarrassing to think he’d once fallen for that trick.
“But, Daniel,” she whined, “I’ll be humiliated.”
“Why?”
“Because people will think you dumped me.”
“If you want to save your reputation, get your own dates. Go out. Be happy. Show them all you’re well rid of me.”
Crocodile tears welled up in her eyes. But Daniel was unmoved.
She’d made her bed, and it was up to her to lie in it. He’d given her the house, the artwork, the season tickets and the staff. He was done.
He moved out from behind the desk, heading for the door.
“You’re on your own, Sharon. Fool them however you want, but leave me out of it.”
“But, Daniel—”
“No. I’m through. We’re done.”
She straightened and squared her shoulders. “At least keep that woman out of the public eye.”
Daniel clenched his jaw on the words he wanted to hurl at her. He opened the door. “Goodbye, Sharon.”
She sniffed, put her pointed chin in the air, tucked her clutch purse under one arm and marched out.
Daniel shut the door firmly behind her and stalked back to his desk.
Keep Amanda out of the public eye?
He didn’t think so.
He buzzed Nancy. “We have any high-profile invitations for this weekend? Something splashy, with the who’s who?”
“He kissed you?” asked Karen, her green eyes lighting up with a grin as she tamped soil around an African violet.
She was working in the solarium, hand tools, potting soil and fertilizer scattered on the table in front of her.
“Am I crazy?” asked Amanda, carrying a tray of seedlings to a shelf on the other side of the sunlit room.
“Crazy to fall for your ex-husband?”
Amanda groaned as she walked back. “It sounds so much worse when you say it out loud.”
“It doesn’t sound bad at all. It’s really very sweet,” said Karen, stripping off her brightly colored gloves and sitting down heavily in a wicker chair.
Amanda quickly went to her. “You okay?”
Karen nodded and smiled. “Just a little tired. But it’s a good kind of tired.” Her gaze went to the plants. “It feels great to accomplish something.”
Amanda crouched down and squeezed Karen’s hand. “It feels great to see you so energetic.”
“Back to you and Daniel.”
Amanda groaned, but Karen just laughed.
A phone rang.
Then it rang again.
Karen glanced at Amanda’s purse sitting next to the African violet. “Is your cell turned on?”
Amanda jumped up. “Oh, shoot. I’ll shut it off.”
“See who it is,” said Karen.
Amanda flipped it open and checked the call display. Her chest contracted—not a good sign. “It’s Daniel.”
“Pick it up,” Karen urged, sitting forward.
Amanda squeezed her eyes shut for a second then pushed the talk button.
“Amanda Elliott.”
“Hey, Mandy. It’s Daniel.”
She felt her cheeks heat, and Karen grinned.
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Listen, are you free on Saturday night?”
“Uh, Saturday?”
Karen nodded vigorously.
“Let me…” Amanda paused, not wanting to look too eager. She didn’t know what they were doing, or where they were going, but she wanted to feel that rush of excitement one more time. “Saturday’s fine.”
“Good. There’s a museum fund-raiser at the Riverside Ballroom.”
The Riverside? As in the hotel where they’d first made love?
Amanda opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“Pick you up at eight?” asked Daniel.
“I…Uh…”
“It’s black tie. For a really good cause.”
Of course it was a good cause. Daniel always showed up for the good cause. Just as he always showed up for the reporters and the movers and shakers.
Why couldn’t they just go out for pizza?
“Amanda?” he prompted.
“Yeah?”
“Eight o’clock’s okay?”
“Sure.”
“Great. See you then.”
Amanda closed her little phone.
“Another date?” asked Karen with a sly grin.
“The museum fund-raiser at the Riverside.”
Karen’s breath whistled out. “Now, that’s a date.”
“I have nothing to wear.”
Karen waved a dismissive hand. “Sure you do.”
Amanda tucked her phone back into her purse. “No, really. I’ve been through my entire closet. I have absolutely nothing to wear.”
“Let’s see if we can help you.”
“How do you mean?”
Karen stood up. “Scarlet must have a hundred of her designs upstairs.”
Amanda took a step back. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure you could. It’ll be fun.” Karen took Amanda’s arm. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll call her for permission when we find something. But she’s going to be thrilled.”
Amanda allowed Karen to tug her toward the door. “You think she’ll let me wear her clothes?”
“Absolutely. And if we need alterations, we’ll get her over here.”
Amanda hesitated. “I’m not—”
“Humor me on this,” said Karen. “I’ll feel like I’m going to the party myself.”
“You actually like that kind of thing?” Amanda asked as they headed up the staircase.
“It’s fun getting all dressed up.”
“Well, that’s the difference between you and me.” Amanda felt stiff and plastic in formal wear, not to mention heavy makeup and hairspray. Her expression would go tight, and even her voice would go formal. She felt as if she was making people dig through layers to get to the real her.
“So, are you going to kiss him again?” asked Karen.
“I hadn’t thought about it.” Now that was a lie. She’d fantasized about kissing, kissing and more kissing in the days since Friday.
“Well think about it.”
They entered one of the spare bedrooms, and Karen opened the double doors of a walk-in closet.
“Okay. I’m going to sit down here and get comfortable,” she said. “And I want you to give me a fashion show and a monologue on kissing your ex-husband.”
Amanda laughed. “It was a short kiss.”
“But a good one?” asked Karen, easing down into an armchair and putting her feet on the matching ottoman.
Amanda let her mind go back for the thousandth time. “A good one,” she agreed. A very good one. An “I think I remember why I married you” good one.
“You should see the expression on your face,” Karen clucked.
“I just wish I could figure it out,” Amanda called as she entered the closet. “I mean, we’re divorced. We’re living completely different lives.”
“May
be he’s just after your body.”
Amanda leaned back out the door. “Hello? After Sharon?”
“Especially after Sharon. That woman might look good in pictures, but believe me, up close it’s all makeup, Botox and putty filler.”
Amanda choked out a laugh.
Karen laughed along with her. “She’s frightening, particularly when she starts talking. You, on the other hand, get more gorgeous by the minute.”
Amanda didn’t believe her, but Karen was a very kind friend.
“Now,” said Karen, “we are going to knock that man dead with a sexy dress.”
“I’m not sure I can pull off sexy,” said Amanda.
“Don’t be silly. You can do sexy with one hand behind your back.”
Even if she could pull it off, she wouldn’t. “If I go out there all vamped up, you know what he’s going to think.”
“What’s he going to think?”
Amanda frowned at Karen. “That I’m…you know…interested in him.”
“You are interested in him.”
“Not as a boyfriend.”
“As what then?”
Amanda peeled off her blouse. She sighed. “Isn’t that the million-dollar question.”
“He can be your clandestine lover,” said Karen.
“A secret affair? With Daniel?”
“It’s not like you’ve never slept with him before,” Karen said.
Amanda rolled her eyes.
Karen laughed. “May I assume it was good?”
“Of course it was good.” Amanda peeled off her pants and laid them on the bed. Sex had never been the issue in their marriage. The issues had been Daniel’s overbearing family, his drive to make money and his unrelenting pretension.
In the early years, they’d had something real, and it had broken her heart to watch it slowly slip away as Daniel retreated further and further into the shell of propriety. But the sex, ah, the sex…
“So, the sex was good but the marriage went bad?” asked Karen.
Amanda stepped into the closet again. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“You could have the best of both worlds,” Karen called. “Sleep with the good lover, but live apart from the bad husband.”
“That’s—” Amanda stopped. She walked back to the closet door and stared at Karen. It was either crazy, or a pretty good idea.
“It is the twenty-first century,” said Karen.
Daniel as a lover, and only a lover?
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 24
