people from the charity are starting an impromptu auction and I think you should be in there.”
She frowned. “What do you mean? The organizers worked with our staff planner and there aren’t supposed to be any other events without prior approval.”
Anything that would require more staff could present a problem, since they were stretched so thin taking care of the thousand people attending the event. Plus, the organizers had already tried to include a raffle that would run afoul of gaming laws, and she’d been worried they would try to slip something similar in under the radar.
“I don’t know, but I figured you’d want to check.”
She glanced at Nora, who still had a few minutes before her shift started. The other woman still had that glazed, hot-man-in-her-sights look in her eyes. She’d be of no use, and, technically, it was still Emily’s job to put out any fires that arose.
Sighing, Emily left her friend to drown in her own drool as she chatted with Rand, who seemed content to watch Emily go. She hurried to the ballroom, entering just in time to hear the evening’s emcee, who’d been reading off the results of the silent auction not long before, announce the winner of what appeared to be a not-so-silent one.
“The winner of this dance, with a bid of one hundred dollars, is the tall gentleman in the back. Sir, come claim your partner!”
A giggling woman in a blue gown came off the stage and met the broadly smiling winner at the bottom of the portable steps. The couple came together on the nearly empty dance floor, swaying to the smooth tones of the jazz band as onlookers clapped and continued drinking, eating and celebrating.
“A dance auction?” she said, assessing the situation quickly.
Okay, this wasn’t a problem. They wouldn’t require more staff, food or security. No, the coordinators hadn’t included it in their plans for this evening, but she didn’t see the harm as long as the participants were all willing.
“Now, who’s next?”
“Five thousand dollars!” a voice called.
The crowd gasped, searching the room for the bidder as the auctioneer peered out among them. “Hold on a minute, sir, we need somebody for you to bid on before you go naming the price. But hold that thought, that’s a very generous offer.”
“Five thousand dollars,” the man’s voice—a familiar one—repeated. She placed that voice right before he added, “For a dance with Miss Emily Crowder.”
No. Oh, hell, no—he had not just done this.
She was going to kill him. Truly, she was going to put her hands around Rand McConnell’s throat and wring his neck. He had just made a spectacle of her by throwing her name out among these bigwigs, as if she, a uniformed hotel employee, could just join the party.
She considered slinking out, pretending this Emily Crowder person didn’t exist, but Rand was having none of that. He was striding through the room, the crowd parting like the sea around Moses as he beelined toward her. His attention was focused on her face, so there was no way he could miss her glare. But he didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.
“Supporting a good cause. I love animals, especially dogs.”
“So find a Chihuahua to dance with.”
“I’d rather dance with you.”
“Sir, is that the lady you’re bidding on?” the emcee asked.
“Yes. Five thousand dollars for a dance with Miss Crowder.”
“I’m going to kill you for this.”
“Dance with me first. And give me a chance to pay up.”
“What do you say, Miss Crowder?” asked the auctioneer.
“I really can’t,” she said apologetically. “I’m afraid that’s not in my job description.”
“Raising money to save animals in need is in everybody’s job description, as far as I’m concerned,” Rand said. “I’m sure Miss Crowder’s superiors would give her a five-minute break to earn ten thousand dollars for such a worthy cause.”
She flinched. “You said five thousand.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Oh, you sneaky bastard,” she mumbled, even as the crowd’s comments swelled in approval of Rand’s generosity.
Emily was torn, knowing she would be crazy to expose herself to any more of Rand’s charm, but also remembering the argument she’d been having with herself before he’d shown up.
Why not be like Nora for a change?
How many chances would she have with this man, who made her whole body sing in anticipation?
“Come on, dance with me, Em. It’s the least you can do to make up for the handcuffs.”
That elicited a tiny, self-satisfied grin. “How long did it take you to get out of them?”
“A half hour,” he admitted. “It was a little tough to do without someone holding the cuff steady.”
She nibbled her lip. “I’m sorry. That was childish.”
“Make it up to me with a dance.”
She hesitated, then suddenly remembered that a widowed Scarlett O’Hara had said fiddle dee dee and danced with Rhett Butler at a charity ball. Like Scarlett, she was tapping her toes. She wanted to dance with him. How crazy was that? She’d been trying to decide whether to leap on him or avoid him like the plague, but right now, being in his arms on the dance floor seemed to be the perfect compromise. Besides, what harm could come from being held by him in the middle of a huge crowd? It’s not as if she could do anything terribly stupid or desperate when there were so many witnesses around.
“Shall we?” he asked, reaching for her.
She slowly nodded, letting him lead her to the dance floor. There, he drew her close, pulling her tightly against his tall, tuxedo-clad body. Emily, in her navy skirt and white blouse, had to look completely out of place. But as the two of them melted together, she didn’t really care.
One dance, for charity. What harm can come from that?
So they danced. The music was low and smooth, meant for close-in dancing, probably to encourage attendees to pay more for their partners. Rand took full advantage, his hand pressed possessively to the small of her back, so that his fingertips brushed against the curves of her rear. Her breasts were heavy and sensitive, the press of his chest bringing her nipples to full, tight awareness. The moment the dance ended and she drew away, he would be able to see the effect he had on her through her simple white blouse—and so would everyone else. But now, when she was so close to him, it didn’t matter.
“It’s been too long since we danced,” he murmured, his mouth near her temple, his breath brushing her hair.
“We
