hand, halting them. “Invitation.”
Derek handed him their satin envelope, compliments of John Elsworth. The guard took the invitation, scanned it briefly and passed it back. His eyes roamed Lily’s body and landed on the deep V playing hide-and-seek with her navel. She cocked her head, and a coy smile played on her lips.
He swallowed hard, then stepped to the side. “Have a good evening.”
“Thank you.” She gathered the flowing material in her hand and walked into the grandiose building.
Derek lowered his lips to her ear. “Nicely played.”
They walked through the east foyer and, following the soft piano melody, continued past another stone archway before the ceiling opened up into a majestic room, showcasing Joslyn’s infamous two-story Storz Fountain Court.
“Wow,” Lily breathed into the striking room.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Derek leaned close and whispered into her ear, his soft breath tickling her skin.
Beautiful was an understatement.
Every inch of the room was overlaid in perfectly sculpted tiles, reminding Lily of a Roman bathhouse she’d once visited while in Rome, down to the minute details of the mosaic columns on the second-floor balcony level overlooking the foyer below. A gold-plated stainless-steel sculpture, resembling a sunburst, rose elegantly from the middle of a mosaic fountain situated front and center in the room.
The massive two-story room, already stunning in its own right, had been turned into a dazzling ballroom, and couples swirled by in time with the piano’s hypnotic tune.
“Shall we dance?”
Lily turned her attention back to her handsome companion and nodded. He gently put his hand on the small of her back and led her deeper into the room toward the dance floor. The crowd parted, conversation ceased, curious faces turned toward them. What are they staring at? She glanced around and stopped short.
Shit. No wonder the guard had given her a once-over. She was going to kill Derek. He had to have known the conservative tilt of this crowd. Among the high-society matrons in their demure, elegant ball gowns, Lily’s daring dress, with its plunging front and thigh-high slit, positively screamed for attention.
She swallowed a sigh. There was no way she’d go unnoticed by her mark tonight.
Derek swirled her onto the dance floor and either oblivious to the blatant stares of their fellow dancers or enjoying the attention—Lily couldn’t tell—closed the distance between them. He laid one hand lightly on the lowest part of her hip and entwined their fingers, bringing her hand up to his chest. Lily tensed at the intimate gesture, then all thoughts of Rowland disappeared as her muscles relaxed and she molded into Derek’s embrace. He tucked her closer and bent his head, his soft breath against her ear as they swirled to the music.
They followed the soft melody around the marble floor. As the tune changed, Derek looked down and smiled. “Game on, babycakes.”
She scanned the crowd again. Yes. Game on. Where are you, Rowland? Almost as if he’d heard her mental musing, the most elusive and intriguing man in the room turned and caught her in his piercing gaze.
Rowland James.
The man commanding her attention was more distinguished than she’d imagined from the photograph Derek had given her to study. Rowland’s tux framed his tall, strong physique with detailed perfection. His raven-colored hair gave way to salt-and-pepper layers, and his cheekbones hinted at an exotic heritage.
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