At Tucker and Olivia’s he’d noticed she was gorgeous, but in that dress she was a showstopper.
Which was perfect. One look at her and everybody would totally understand why he had come out of his self-imposed social hiatus and was going out with her.
Imagining his friends’ reactions to her, he bit back a cheesy grin and caught up to her right before the desk where he’d present his invitation. There could be a million reasons why she didn’t like getting her picture taken, and most of them were innocent. He wasn’t going to ruin what could be the perfect return to the party scene with unfounded suspicions.
“If it’s any consolation, cameras are off-limits in the party.”
“Yes. It is a consolation.”
He presented his invitation at the discreet desk by the entry, and they were routed to the greeting line for the host and hostess.
Paul Montgomery’s eyes lit when he saw Eloise. “My darling, however did you get this guy to finally break down and bring a date somewhere?”
She laughed and slid her arm through Ricky’s. “We met at the party of a mutual friend.”
“Tucker and Olivia Engle,” Ricky said, shaking the old man’s hand. “She’s a friend of Olivia’s. I’m a friend of Tucker’s.”
“Oh, we love Olivia,” Mrs. Paul Montgomery said, leaning in to air kiss Eloise’s cheek. “She simply glows with her pregnancy.”
Eloise smiled. “She certainly does. She will make an amazing mother.”
Their twenty seconds of greeting time expended, Ricky and Eloise were guided to the next section, where they were given their table number and a hand-carved Christmas ornament as a gift from the Montgomerys.
The huge ballroom shimmered with laughing, talking people. Rich red velvet drapes billowed from ceiling-high windows and glittered festively as if they’d been sprinkled with stardust. Round tables boasted gold tablecloths and huge centerpieces of calla lilies and evergreens accented by a ribbon of gold that wove through them.
Ricky took Eloise’s hand and guided her through the sea of round tables. “That went smoothly.”
“Our story’s very believable.”
“Then we’ll stick with it.” He paused, turned and caught her gaze. Now that he’d realized the impact gorgeous Eloise would make on his friends, a bit of fear tugged at his gut.
“We’re seated with some of my best friends. I don’t want them to know you’re a fake date. These are the people I most want to reassure that I’m fine. Dating someone is the living, breathing symbol of that. If we’re convincing enough, they won’t ask questions. They’ll see I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
“But if anybody even suspects you’re a fake date, I’m going to look pathetic. This has to be as real as possible for my friends to buy in. That means I’m going to put my arm around you.”
She nodded.
He sucked in a breath. “And we’re going to dance because I love to dance, and it will look odd if I bring a date and don’t dance.”
She straightened the collar of his tux, then tightened his bow tie, the gesture both casual and intimate. His nerves shivered. Not from fear of her touch, but from easy acceptance of her fingers on him. Which scared him to death. She was gorgeous and, probably like every other man in this room, he wanted to touch her and be touched by her. Their situation might be fake, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get the feelings.
“Relax. Not only do we seem to be compatible, but I have dated a guy or two. I know how to act.”
He sniffed a laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’re actually doing better than people on a real date because we’re not afraid to be honest.”
He fought a wince. She would not be pleased if he’d honestly tell her that her little ministrations with his bow tie had shot white-hot need through his veins. “I guess that’s true.”
“So if either one of us does anything wrong, we know we can be honest and tell the other one.”
Okay. As long as they weren’t admitting things like awakening hormones, he could get on board with that. “That’s good.”
She took his hand. “We are going to ace this.”
He led the way to the table and introduced Eloise to his first business partner, Elias Greene, and his fiancée Bridget O’Malley, the couple getting married on Christmas Eve. As they sat down, another friend, George Russell and his wife, Andi, joined them.
When introduced, Eloise smiled and nodded, and the knots in Ricky’s stomach began to unravel. He expected the husbands to fawn all over her, but he would have never guessed the wives would instantly like her.
Andi leaned over and caught Eloisa’s hand. “I love your dress.”
She laughed. “What? This old thing?”
Andi sniffed. “Okay. Don’t tell me where you got it.”
“Actually, I do a lot of my own designing.”
Andi’s mouth fell open. “You made that?”
“I bought it, then sort of reorganized it to suit my tastes.”
Ricky liked the way she stuck with the truth. She didn’t announce that she was broke, but she didn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t. He took a sip from his water glass, his nerves settling and his faith in their deal reviving. She was doing very well.
They ate salad, filet mignon and simple baked potatoes, and an elaborate chocolate mousse creation for dessert, then Paul gave a toast that was more of a thank-you for coming and blessing to all in the new year, Then the dancing started.
Eloise turned to him with a smile. “I know you’re dying to dance.”
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t. Her dress had no back. He was going to have to put his hands on her.
But his friends expected him to dance, so he gave her points for being a step ahead of the game.
He rose and took her hand. They threaded through the tables to the dance floor and kept going until they were in the center of the throng of people. This far into the dancers, they couldn’t be seen by his friends at their table or even by anyone curious enough to seek them out.
As he pulled her to him, he let his hand fall to the small of her back and found soft, supple skin. But a quick mental review of her dress told him that if he were to lower his hands until he found fabric, he’d be fondling her butt.
Leaving his hand where it was, he cleared his throat. “Interesting back on this dress.”
She laughed and winced. “Sorry.”
“Oh, no. It’s not a problem.” Most guys would kill for the opportunity to touch you like this. But, of course,
