for the past twenty-five years, drawing in the well-heeled and well-connected to raise money for the area’s less fortunate.”
“How nice,” Eve said and meant it.
“Yes, well, the party is tomorrow night.”
Comprehension dawned and something Eve didn’t want to admit might be interest danced up her spine. After all, the man wasn’t her type at all. Too arrogant. Too domineering. “Are—are you asking me out?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “I need an escort for the evening. And you will be compensated.”
Indignation blasted along with the horn of the car behind her, and she realized she’d come to a full stop even though she had the right of way. She sent the other driver a wave of apology and turned into the nearest parking lot.
“Eve?”
She waited until the vehicle was in Park before she let loose. “Maybe I wasn’t clear about the nature of the services I provide. I’m a personal shopper, not a personal anything else.”
She heard Dawson cough. Actually, he sounded as if he might have choked a little, which suited her just fine. He deserved it. Then, he said, “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Compensation was a poor choice of words. What I meant by it was that many of the people on my gift list will be in attendance. In addition to my parents, sister and her family, a number of business acquaintances and longtime Burke Financial clients attend.”
“Oh.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize when he added, “I thought seeing them, meeting them, might help you do your job more effectively. You know, live up to those high principles you speak of.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No.” He expelled a breath. “For the record, Eve, I admire you for taking a stand. I haven’t met many people in business whose principles can hold up under pressure from the bottom line.”
He sounded sincere, which went a long way toward soothing her temper. “So, this would be sort of like a business function.”
“It would be exactly like a business function,” he corrected. “But with better food. No rubber chicken or cheap champagne. My mother doesn’t believe in doing anything halfway.”
As Eve was privy to Dawson’s gift budget she decided it was a trait he had inherited.
“It sounds very fancy.”
“Black tie required. Do you have something to wear?”
“I think I can find something suitable in my closet,” she replied blandly. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly between her teeth. “Where and what time?”
“Does that mean you’ll come?” He sounded surprised and maybe even a little relieved.
She was probably going to hate herself for it later, but she said, “Yes.”
“And your other date? I trust that the last-minute change in plans won’t cause any…problems.”
Eve nearly laughed out loud as it dawned on her that he thought the plans she’d mentioned earlier were with a man. She saw no reason to enlighten him.
So she said, “Don’t worry. I can reschedule it. After all, this is work.”
CHAPTER THREE
DAWSON cursed and yanked at his bow tie as he stood in front of the vanity mirror. This was his third attempt at tying it and it still had turned out lopsided. He wasn’t sure why his hands wouldn’t cooperate, any more than he could put a finger on the origin of the nerves fluttering in his stomach.
He hadn’t felt keyed up before either of the other dates, disasters that they’d wound up being. And his evening with Eve wasn’t a date at all. It was business, he reminded himself, as he finished with his tie, checked his watch and called for his driver to bring the car around.
Business was forgotten, however, the moment Eve opened her apartment door. She was wearing red, her lips and nails painted the same dangerous shade. She’d done something different with her dark hair, pulling it back and up to reveal the slim line of her neck. Diamond studs caught fire on her ear lobes as she tilted her head to one side and regarded him with a smile that he was pretty sure dated back to the original Eve.
“Hello, Dawson.”
“You look…” Words failed him. For a moment, he thought his heart might fail him, too. The woman should come with a cardiac arrest warning.
“This works for the occasion, right?” She did a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn that made him wish he had a defibrillator handy. “I wouldn’t want to stand out.”
“You’ll stand out, but for all the right reasons,” he replied with more honesty than he’d intended.
Her smile bloomed again. “That’s quite a compliment. You look pretty good yourself. It’s a sin there are so few places for a man to wear a tuxedo nowadays.”
“I doubt you’ll get many men to agree.” He pulled at his collar as he said it. The damned thing seemed to have grown too tight.
Eve laughed. It was a husky sound, entirely too provocative for the mere reason that it wasn’t intended to be. “Come on, a tuxedo can’t be as uncomfortable as my shoes. My arches are going to hate me by the end of the night.”
Dawson allowed his gaze to skim down, which he regretted almost immediately. He’d already known she had a pair of killer legs. Tonight they were accentuated by black pumps that added a good three inches to her already respectable height. His pulse took flight along with the little butterfly tattooed on her ankle. He didn’t particularly care for the reaction. Business, he reminded himself.
“Ready to go?” he asked. “While I have no problem arriving fashionably late, my mother is a stickler for punctuality.”
“Ah. Right. So, exactly what have you told her about me?”
“Your name.”
“A man of few words,” she said on a laugh. “Just let me get my coat.”
He glanced around while she did so. Her apartment was a loft in a former commercial building that had been converted to residential use. Its exposed ductwork, distressed wood floor and battered brick walls gave it an almost industrial feel. It was small, its total square footage probably not equal to that of his master suite, but Eve certainly had made the most of every inch.
Her taste was as bold and uncompromising as the woman. Vivid colors were splashed against neutrals and a rather eclectic mix of artwork adorned the walls. At the far end of the room, he spied a slim staircase that led to the sleeping loft. A horizontal chrome railing defined the space up top and allowed a tantalizing glimpse of a platform bed beyond. He saw more bold colors there, rich crimsons, plums and golds. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder what one might interpret from her decorating choices.
“Dawson?”
He turned to find her standing directly behind him. She held a small clutch in her hands and was
