Dorian took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“There’re a lot of wealthy people in there, and very important business contacts. I didn’t want to do this alone.”
“Wealthy people at a fundraiser are exactly what you want.” He tucked her hand in his arm and walked her through the hotel lobby.
The event was on the ground floor ballroom, where the orchestra music wafted through the open doors. Several people guarded the entrance to check guest invitations. Tonight, he was a plus one.
“Very quickly, tell me what you do.”
“I’m an admin for a high-end realtor company. My boss is the CFO, and one of the Board Members on this charity. She’s going to introduce me to several people here that may help me reach the next level.”
They stopped just outside the ballroom entrance, and out of earshot from others. “How long have we been dating?” he asked.
“A month. Given your stellar physique, let’s say we met at the gym. Zumba class.”
He cast her a sideways look. “Uh, no.” Dorian chuckled. “You tried the weight bench, and I came over to spot you.”
She nodded. “What job will we make up for you?”
He smirked. “You mean I can’t be a Knight?”
His client stuttered, and glanced at the attendant guarding the doors.
“I’m kidding.” He flipped through the mental catalog of options, and landed on one of his friend’s former roles. “I’m a personal bodyguard. For executives and celebrities.”
“Impressive. You’ve used that one before?”
Dorian smiled and gestured to the doors. “Shall we?”
Inside, the room buzzed with people and conversation. Half a dozen casino tables scattered around the space, surrounded by a crowd of energized players. Craps, roulette, black jack, and more. Servers roamed with trays of champagne flutes, hor d’oeuvres, and something that looked like raffle tickets. The mini-bars in the corners were packed with guests, along with the two dozen counter-height tables draped with floor-length, black and silver table cloths.
Alicia took a deep breath and scanned the room. “What first? Squeeze into a game?”
“A drink.” His response was almost automatic. “Always a drink first. Then introduce me to your boss.”
“I like that plan.”
Dorian made sure to follow his strict regimen when on appointments. A single drink in the beginning to calm any nerves—the woman’s nerves, not his—followed by water the rest of the night.
He led her to the bar, and they mingled with the folks ahead of them in line.
Alicia didn’t need any guidance in small talk, so he let her take the lead. When only two people were left in front of them, Dorian pulled out his wallet to pay for drinks.
The songs changed to a more upbeat tempo, and he glanced up at the musicians. A few guests who’d already had more than a few drinks started to dance. On the other side of the dance floor, his gaze stopped on a curvy woman with cocoa brown hair on the raised platform, giving instructions to a few people about the lighting.
Everything else in his head stopped.
His heart hammered, and everyone around him could have been speaking in Aramaic.
Grace Evans.
His mouth went dry. Her black cocktail dress literally made his jaw drop. A shimmery top revealing a teasing hint of cleavage draped down her torso and gathered at her waist. In a unique twist of fabric, the dress hugged the rest of her body in ebony leather to her knees. Combined with pewter, two-inch heels, Grace was the executive-dominance-fantasy come to life.
“Sir?”
Dorian blinked and looked at the bartender. “Yes?”
“Your order?”
Alicia cut in for him. “Dry martini for me.” She glanced at Dorian. “You prefer bourbon, right?”
His mind flustered. Normally that was what he preferred, but during events he drank whatever the client ordered. Rule number four. “I’ll have a martini, too.”
He glanced at Grace, who was shaking hands with more guests on the other side of the platform.
What the hell is she doing here?
A waiter came by and offered some finger foods, which she declined.
She’s nervous.
When the bartender handed him the martini, he forced himself to concentrate. On Alicia, his client. He smiled, and toasted. “To the next step up.”
Her eyes widened. “Let’s hope so.” She took a large sip.
Dorian downed half of his in one gulp. It was a struggle not to suck the entire thing dry. No matter that it was important not to appear a lush at these things. Rule number three, a Knight conveys control in everything at all times.
Alicia’s cheeks pinked with the alcohol, and she smiled. “My boss is over here.”
“Lead the way.”
She gripped his hand and moved across the room toward the bombshell in black leather.
Of course.
There was no way for Dorian to hide the heat in his cheeks, but at least his internal stuttering was silent.
“Grace,” Alicia called, and pulled the woman’s attention away from a trio of men in tuxedos.
Two of them were nearly drooling over his downstairs neighbor.
Grace smiled at Alicia.
Her genuine joy knocked the breath from his lungs. He’d never seen her smile before. With her pearly whites, and the way her eyes glimmered, he wished she’d do it more often.
“This is a stunning room,” Alicia continued. “I cannot wait for the auction to start.”
Auction? Crap, I didn’t bring enough cash.
“Thank you, Alicia. I appreciate you coming. There’s a medical distributor here looking for an account manager I think you’d—” Her gaze met Dorian’s, and her mouth fell open.
His client grinned. “Grace, this is my boyfriend, Dorian.”
Dorian’s stomach turned to molten lead. He’d left his charming suave at the bar. Oh shit. Grace knows this is all a lie. Rule number five was a bust. A Knight makes the client look good at all times.
He held his breath, and extended his hand. Forced himself to smile, praying she’d play along. “Nice to meet you, Grace.”
In the span of three seconds, her gawk transformed into disgust, then to a polite, yet undoubtedly fake smile. She shook his hand with a weak grip and ice-cold eyes. “Grace Evans.” She pursed her lips and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. After a sip, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Tell me,” she addressed to Alicia. “How long have you two been dating?”
His client ran down their quickly choreographed response, and all the while Grace’s disapproving stare shifted back to Dorian.
At least she’s playing along. For the sake of her employee.
He downed the rest of the martini in a single gulp.
“Well, please…” Grace could’ve burned the ozone layer into oblivion with her piercing stare. “Enjoy yourselves this evening. Excuse me.”
She high-tailed it to the other side, where several technicians flagged her down to discuss something with the computer and projector equipment.
“That was weird.” Alicia scratched at her ear. “She must be nervous. She’s never been that curt before.”
Curt. Sure, let’s go with that. Sounded better than revolted.
They mingled with a few more people. He glanced through the brochure they’d given him at the entrance, and froze at most of the auction items listed. A week-long vacation to the Bahamas, a golfing weekend to a top-ranked PGA tour course, a name dedication to a hospital’s new wing, even an invitation to dinner at the governor’s mansion and a private tour.
Nothing like a basket of wine or NFL tickets. Which were more in line with Dorian’s budget.
Definitely not enough cash.
On the back of the brochure, an advertisement for raffle tickets, one hundred dollars each for a chance to win a custom Harley Davidson motorcycle.
I think
I can afford a ticket.
All proceeds benefited pediatric transplant services.
The pieces from earlier in the evening fit into the final puzzle. This was Grace’s fundraiser. One she’d been coordinating over the last several months. Her c-suite position was CFO at Alicia’s work, and a chairing board member of this charity.
Any future coffee date with Grace is probably out.
Dorian glanced at her from across the room. She was clearly about to climb the platform to start a presentation. Her hair was pinned to one side of her head, the curls draping over her shoulder. Everything about her conveyed humble confidence. Not just standing on her own two feet, but thriving.
What in the world did Tom mean by he’d thought ‘it’ would never happen? Couldn’t possibly be a date. That woman was beating men off with a red-hot poker.
He needed a date with this woman. Even if it was just coffee. Stabbing scars from a red-hot poker were more than worth it.
Grace Evans was the entire enchilada rolled into one delectable package, more than deserving of awe from an entourage of man-slaves.
But that chip on her shoulder, not to mention prejudices regarding his profession, made that possibility seem dimmer with every caress from Alicia’s hand at the table.
His client waved to another colleague and grabbed two champagnes from a passing waiter. She handed one to Dorian.
He smiled, and took it.
When Grace climbed the platform and grabbed the microphone, her melodious voice welcomed all the guests, he downed the champagne.
Time to suspend his one-drink rule.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grace
Grace forced a deep breath, praying her nerves wouldn’t unravel in front of everyone. Public speaking still terrified her, even after all these years. This was the largest event she’d ever planned. The most important. Over two hundred people squished together in this room, and all of them vital to the charity she loved.
The familiar knot rose in her throat.
Not now, Grace. Hold it together.
She gripped the notecards on the podium. Her talking points. Her hold on reality.
The walking-orgasm in a tux stood beside her admin in the middle of the room. The lump in her throat vanished.
Which gave her the distraction she needed to get through her speech, barely looking at her notecards at all. By the time Grace reached her closing, several people in the crowd had teary eyes.
“From the bottom of my heart, thank you for being here. More importantly, thank you for helping these children have a second chance at life. Because that’s what these prizes represent. Life. For our bravest angels.”
The lump crawled into her throat, threatening to erupt from her mouth in a sob. She reminded herself to smile.
The crowd erupted in applause.
“Let’s start the fun!”
With that, the official emcee took over the microphone, the legendary Ruben Wilde. The national celebrity hosted television’s highest-rated talent competition, and happened to be a Dallas native who’d graciously offered his time on behalf of the charity. He was the only reason the fundraiser had received so many glamorous donations, least of all lured an exemplary guest list.
Ruben gave her a hug, with an extra squeeze. He murmured in her ear. “You’re the real hero.”
His comment cracked her heart further. No, Meggie was the hero. She took another shaky breath, and winked at him.
The emcee closed the gaming tables and started the auction with tremendous applause and cheering.
Grace relished the relief. Although she wanted to stay and see how much the items sold for, her feet carried her out the back doors. Her body started to overheat, and it took everything she had not to pass out.
Not to mention, if she stayed in that room for one second longer, she’d probably throw up from seeing him, ogling over his client.
My admin, of all people!
Alicia was so much smarter than to hire an escort. She was talented, confident, and beautiful.
Why in the world does she need to hire sex?
When Grace had first laid eyes on Dorian tonight, she’d been beyond mortified. Again. For a second, she’d believed his presence was a practical joke.
Until Alicia’s face had conveyed otherwise.
Grace escaped to the women’s restroom, and wet a washcloth sitting on the counter. She dabbed the cold press across her forehead and temples. Then wrapped it around the back of her neck, careful not to unfurl her hair.
I thought getting through my speech would be the toughest part of the night.
The bathroom door opened, and Alicia entered with a worried look.
Grace sighed, her cheeks heating all over.
“Are you all right, Grace? You rushed out of the room so quickly.”
Looking her in the eye was impossible. There was no way she could tell the truth about knowing her date wasn’t really her boyfriend. No sense in having two mortified people. “I’m all right. Thank you.”
“Your face is red.” Her employee wet another washcloth, and offered to hold it against her forehead. “Are you getting sick?”
She shook her head. “I’m not very good with speeches.”
Alicia’s eyebrows rose. “First time I’ve seen you react like this.”
“Then maybe I am coming down with something,” she lied.
Better not to look the fool in front of my admin.
Alicia filled a paper cup with water, and handed it to her.
Grace swallowed it.
“Perhaps too much alcohol?”
“Maybe.” Though she’d only had the one flute of champagne.
“Could be an anxiety attack. It’s a very big night, one you’ve worked hard on for months.”
She sighed.
“Do you want me to call for your car?”
Grace shook her head again, and steeled her shoulders. With a toss of the cloths in the hamper in the corner, she smiled. “Thank you for all your help with tonight. Now, let’s go introduce you to my friend. I’d hate to lose you because you’re so good at what you do. But I think he has a job you’d really love.”
And it has nothing to do with hiring a gigolo.
Dorian
Dorian kissed Alicia’s hand outside the hotel.
“You’re a lifesaver.” She smiled. “I think I’ll be changing roles very soon.”
“That’s excellent. Glad I could help.”
Another blush graced her cheeks, and she stepped closer to him. “Do you want to come home with me, so I can thank you properly?”
He paused, and resisted letting out a sigh. “Any man would be so lucky to have you. But I think we should keep this professional.” He hated declining a woman’s offer, because most of the time it meant no future business from them. He wasn’t the kind of Knight that hopped into bed with every client, at least not anymore. He’d given up that phase a long time ago.
Alicia’s disappointment was clear, but she handed him the envelope containing his tip, and climbed into the cab.
Dorian watched it drive off, letting the cooler evening soothe away his nerves. He needed the chill, because he’d spent the entire event pretending not to notice Grace’s disapproving glares. Focusing on a job had never been so difficult before. Luckily, Alicia had been so preoccupied with business networking to notice his lack of positivity and attention on her. He shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d probably just lost a repeat client.
“What happened? Did she not have enough money to pay for the extra package?” Grace’s beautiful voice countered the vicious words.
He saw the glorious woman with a sour face braced against the valet stand. Either waiting for her car from the attendant, or merely watching a potential crash-and-burn.
Dorian sighed, annoyance masking his infatuation. “Contrary to what you believe, I don’t sleep with most of my clients.”
“How noble.” She glared.
He rolled his eyes. “How did your charity do? Di
d you make your goal?”
Her accusing gaze softened a bit, and she fussed with her hair. “Not bad. We could always use more.”
Dorian moved closer, slow and sure. “How much did you get for the Harley?”
A tinge of pink flushed her cheeks with each step he drew closer. Her lips parted to answer, but another moment passed before she spoke. “Not as much as I’d hoped. I think the price per ticket was too high. People may have been saving their money for the other items.”
He was only two feet away from her. Her spicy perfume caught the breeze, and he licked his lips. “Those were impressive auctions. Even more impressive was the Lt. Governor bidding on the golf package.”
Grace was chewing on something in her mouth, maybe a mint, or perhaps her tongue.
I wonder what that delectable tongue tastes like.
“Do you mind my asking how much you earned for an event like this?”
Dorian swallowed his surprise. “Yes.”
She pursed her lips.
He wished she’d smile. She has a glorious smile.
“I’m just curious what the going rate is these days.”
“Are you asking for a quote? Business or pleasure?” He smirked.
Her eyes widened to beautiful ocean-colored orbs, and he couldn’t help smiling as she flustered. “Not me! I would never!”
Dorian chuckled. But quickly turned serious. “Probably not a good idea to mention to Alicia that you know my line of work.”
“Don’t want to ruin any future business with her?”
He sighed, again. “It’s not about that.”
Grace rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her breasts, the cleavage even more accentuated.
It was impossible to keep his gaze from drifting lower. He forced himself to stare into her flushed face. He focused on the flame that burst in his gut. Defending his job to anyone had never been important. With the high-end cliental, there had rarely been a need. Except with her. Now for the second time, he was going to open his mouth and try to get into her good graces.
Maybe it’s the alcohol’s influence. “Alicia didn’t want to come to this event alone. She asked me to accompany her and help bolster her confidence. That’s what I do. If you call her out, her confidence will shatter. Maybe screw up her chances at the next level. It’s all she talked about.”
Tell Me What You Crave Page 2
