was him.
Chapter Three
Carlo Milano was wrong about a lot of things, Lucy decided, as they entered the Street Beat party. One, the music wasn’t too loud, and two, judging by what other women were wearing who were in attendance, there was nothing unusual about her cocktail attire.
“Fuddy-duddy,” she muttered to herself.
He leaned closer. “What?”
She glanced up. Okay, he didn’t look like a fuddy-duddy, not with those incredible dark lashes surrounding his incredible dark eyes, and not with the way his wide shoulders filled out his casual linen jacket. And she wasn’t the only one to have noticed his dearth of duddiness, either. She’d seen it in the eyes of other women they’d passed, and now, good Lord, now there was a tall, statuesque brunette wearing a slinky animal print sliding out of the crowd to close in on them like a leopard scenting a tasty meal.
The feline woman was still two dozen feet away when she called out the name of her prey. “Carlo!”
Lucy couldn’t help it, she stepped closer to him. Her hip brushed his groin, and she all at once recalled her plan for the evening. Not sticking close to Carlo. Not fostering dreams that couldn’t be.
Remember? She was a single, sophisticated woman at a party. A single, sophisticated woman who should be looking for other single sophisticates, but of the masculine variety. Clearing her throat, she ignored the approaching woman and started edging away from Carlo’s body. “I think I’ll go—”
“Stay,” he said against her ear. It felt more like a kiss than a command and she froze, making it easy for him to hook two fingers into the waistline at the back of her dress. She felt his knuckles press against her naked skin.
“Carlo—”
“I’ll give you a raise if you’ll just play along.”
There wasn’t any more time to protest. The brunette appeared before them on a waft of Chanel No. 5. “Mr. Milano,” she said in a scolding voice. “This is beyond fashionably late.”
Then the woman moved in for the kill—uh, greeting—and Lucy tried to edge away again. Carlo’s fingers curled tighter on her dress, though, plastering her as snugly against him as a “Hi, My Name Is” sticker.
The action forced the other woman to settle for an air kiss in the vicinity of his chin. Then she gave Lucy a cursory glance. “I’m Claudia Cox,” she said, holding out her hand even as her gaze returned to Carlo. “So… Who’s your little friend?”
Lucy gritted her teeth and gave a little handshake as Carlo answered. “This is Lucy Sutton. She’s just back in town from Phoenix.”
Claudia flicked another glance in her direction. “Really? I thought you were seeing Tamara.”
His hand slipped out of Lucy’s dress to slide around her waist and then press possessively against her hip bone. She tried to look as if her knees were melting—for Claudia’s benefit—without standing as if her knees were really melting—for Carlo’s.
“I’m with Lucy now.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and her scalp prickled from crown to nape.
“Lucky Lucy,” Claudia commented, wearing a thin smile.
Lucy thought it was time to chime in and prove to them all she still had a voice. “That’s just what I say to myself every time I hear this man say my name. It’s nice to meet you, Claudia.” Then she entwined her fingers with those of Carlo’s that were wrapped at her hip and tried to subtly peel them off before her dress started to smolder.
His touch made her just that hot.
Carlo allowed their joined hands to fall to her side, but stroked hers with a caressing thumb when Claudia’s gaze dropped to their fingers.
“We need to set up a meeting,” the other woman told Carlo, her voice a bit sharp, “since it doesn’t look as if you’re prepared to talk business tonight.”
Behind her, Lucy felt Carlo straighten. His thumb stopped its distracting movement. “What’s up, Claudia?”
The other woman looked at Lucy. “Do you mind…?”
“Oh, no,” she said, taking the hint. “I’ll just go over to the bar and leave you two alone—”
“Sweetheart, you know I don’t like you out of my sight.” Carlo’s fingers squeezed hers. Tight.
Lucy swallowed her wince. “Isn’t he cute?” she said to Claudia, then looked up at her date. “Darling, I won’t go far.”
“Baby, I don’t think so.” His hand gave hers another warning squeeze. “Stay with me.”
Baby? That’s what she was supposed to be proving she wasn’t tonight. And she knew he was a boy big enough to handle leopard lady and whatever the heck she wanted to discuss in private.
Lucy beamed Carlo a sickly smile. “Handsome, Claudia wants to talk about business, and you know how little me gets so sleepy when talk turns to numbers and such.”
Of course, that was uncomfortably close to the truth. And uncomfortably terrible for someone who’d graduated with honors and an accounting degree to admit.
Claudia shook her head, apparently impatient with them both. “It’s not about numbers. I only wanted to let you know that I’ve okayed a parents group from a local high school to help out with the security.”
“Street Beat security?” He sent Lucy a glance, then went on to explain, “Claudia’s the festival promoter.”
“For the past five years,” the older woman added before turning her attention to Carlo again. “The parents are going to use their pay as a fund-raiser for their kids’ senior prom. The fairgrounds did something similar last summer. It will be good PR for us.”
He frowned. “But parents? I don’t know, Claudia. I’ll want to talk to the fair security people, and even if they think it went well, I’m not sure—”
“Oh, you should at least consider it,” Lucy interjected. “I was part of a community group that raised money in Phoenix last year during the hot air balloon festival weekend. We helped out with security and parking. It worked out great for everyone concerned.”
“Yeah?” Carlo lifted an eyebrow.
Even Claudia was looking at Lucy with more interest. “Yes,” she confirmed. “We had kids involved, too, because they’re always looking for ways to beef up their college applications with community service. If they were over sixteen and accompanied by a parent, they were welcome, too.”
“Carlo,” Claudia said, looking less leopardlike and more thoughtful. “That sounds even better to me. I think it could increase future ticket sales if more teenagers are exposed to the festival.”
“I see your point, but—”
“It’s not supplanting your security plans,” Claudia insisted. “It’s supporting them. The volunteers can do simple things
