seems that way.”
There was something deliberate in the step he took in her direction, something just as deliberate in his smile. He’d removed his navy jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. By all rights, he should have looked less intimidating. Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm because he didn’t look less anything. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected.
“I’m Parker Malone.”
Since it would have been impolite to refuse it, she took his outstretched hand, but only briefly. “I know.”
Parker waited to see if she would add anything, for instance, her name. She didn’t say a word. Evidently she knew her etiquette, but she only took civility so far. He’d always been under the assumption that women were uncomfortable with long stretches of silence. Hell, now that he thought about it, most of the women he knew never shut up long enough to find out. There was something different about this woman. He’d tried to dismiss memories of their brief meeting, but he’d had very little success putting her out of his mind. That wasn’t so surprising. He’d always believed that first impressions were the most potent, and his first impression of Hannah Cassidy had been a fantasy in the making.
“Are you enjoying the party, Hannah?”
She acknowledged his use of her name with the barest lift of her eyebrows. Parker would have preferred a proper introduction even though he’d grilled Ryan regarding all the Cassidys weeks ago.
“Yes, I am.”
It might have been her intention to instill her voice with an overlying coldness, but Parker earned a very good living by paying attention to the most subtle nuances and inflections in his clients’ voices. She wasn’t as cold as she wanted him to believe. A smug feeling of satisfaction settled over him. No matter what she pretended, she was aware of him. He’d venture a little further to say she was attracted to him, too.
“Nice night.”
She glanced at the guests, the orchestra, and the lawns far beyond the patio, and slowly nodded.
“Hannah?”
She turned her head very slowly, and looked up at him. There was a softness in her eyes, and a directness he liked very much. “Ryan was right about that orchestra. They’re very good. Would you care to dance?”
She hesitated, as if surprised by his question. “As a matter of fact,” she said, the sound of her voice as dusky as secrets whispered in the dark, “I would love to.”
Parker felt the way he did when he was nearing the end of an intense game of chess. Victory was close. Check.
She smiled sweetly at him. And he reacted in the most basic and masculine way.
He reached for her hand, but she’d backed up. Increasing the distance between them, she lowered her voice and said, “Perhaps if you combed the numbers on a public rest room wall, you could find someone to accommodate you.”
He watched through narrowed eyes as she stopped a dozen feet away to speak to her brother, Cole. She didn’t glance back at Parker, but when she dragged her brother onto the dance floor, Parker got her message loud and clear. She wanted to dance. Just not with him.
Checkmate.
Parker considered himself a reasonable man, but he still saw red. He wasn’t accustomed to having his overtures rejected, dammit. Although he had to admit her technique had been noteworthy.
Everything about Hannah Cassidy was noteworthy.
He’d noticed her when she’d first arrived. Every hair on his body had raised slightly, as if he was standing too close to an electric fence. He’d been on sensory overload ever since. It wasn’t the color of her dress that made such an impression, but the lack of color. It was a pale shade of brown, so close to the color of her skin that at first glance it almost appeared as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all. Almost. Every man in the universe knew just how provocative almost could be.
The dress was semi-transparent from the knees down, and if you looked close, in a three-inch band around her waist. It left her shoulders bare, but wasn’t low cut in the front or in the back. It was the kind of dress a woman who neither felt compelled to flaunt her body nor hide it wore. That such a woman existed was an intriguing concept, one Parker would have to ponder later. Hannah wore no necklace or rings. He’d checked her left hand twice. Her hair appeared darker beneath the twinkle of hundreds of tiny lights, a few tresses curling down her neck and in front of her ears, the rest secured high in the back with a single brown comb.
He didn’t know much about her. He sure hadn’t had any luck garnering information from the waiter who’d dumped chocolate mousse on his tie, or from the eccentric blonde who owned The Pink Flamingo, although he was certain she had been withholding information. Still, Parker hadn’t had to ask who Hannah was tonight. He’d known the moment he’d seen her standing next to Lily Cassidy. Although the eyes and color preferences were different, the resemblance between mother and daughter was unmistakable.
He was still watching Hannah when his father materialized out of a nearby crowd. Ice cubes clinked in the bottom of the older man’s empty glass. “Ryan Fortune is as stubborn as a mule, but his bourbon is the best money can buy.”
J. D. Malone was an inch shorter than his son and kept his weight within fifteen pounds of what it had been when he was young. Women enjoyed him. Men either feared him or revered him. Few actually liked him. Most of the time, the jury was out as to where Parker stood in regard to his father. “I take it you haven’t had any luck talking sense into Ryan concerning his affair with Lily Cassidy. The man’s not thinking with his head. I never trust the opposition, and I trust Sophia Fortune less than most. That woman isn’t going to let go of Ryan’s fortune without one hell of a fight. His infatuation with the Cassidy woman is a serious mistake.”
Parker shook his head. “Infatuation? Ryan wants her the way a man in the desert wants water.”
J.D.’s tone hardened. “That’s lust. If he can’t control his sexual urges he should find himself a call girl, at least until his divorce is final. I wouldn’t expect a man like him to shop on street corners. There are agencies these days that operate out of penthouses. Hell, as far as I’m concerned, it’s the only way to go. You get what you pay for, I always say.”
Parker wouldn’t want to be the one to suggest such a thing to Ryan Fortune. He wouldn’t recommend J.D. do it, either. His father had never preached honor when it came to sex. His sex talk had consisted of taking precautions and using discretion. No wonder Parker had jumped to the wrong conclusion in that damned storage room last week.
J.D. returned to the group of men he’d been talking to. Parker stayed in the shadows, scowling.
The song finally ended. He noticed it didn’t take long for one of Ryan’s nephews to ask Hannah to dance and for her to accept. Sipping seltzer water over ice, Parker stood apart from the crowd, biding his time. Fifteen more minutes and he would be able to leave.
Time was almost up when he noticed a pale-brown blur out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to see Hannah slip away from her latest suitor and stroll along one of the curving walkways in the distance. Placing his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, Parker glanced at his watch. Might as well put his time to good use.
Trying to catch her breath after all that dancing, Hannah smiled as
