room. “We thought the wedding had been…No, dear, where is he?”
Catherine’s laughter was mild and musical, taking the sting out of the awkward situation.
“He’s right here. Stephen Danbury, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Dersham?” To Stephen, she said, “The Dershams have been incredibly generous to several children’s charities, as well as avid supporters of the arts.”
The Dershams eyed Stephen, clearly puzzled, but too polite to say so.
“We knew Stephen’s grandparents. Very nice people,” Enid said.
“Yes,” Oscar chimed in, and, directing his comments to Stephen, added, “Your grandparents are sorely missed. They were true pillars of the community.”
“Our grandparents were something,” Derek said, causing all heads to turn in his direction. He stood just behind Catherine, bitterness making his eyes overly bright. “Catherine, you’re looking well for someone who just stomped on my heart.”
She didn’t buy his words for a minute. His ego might have been bruised, but his heart had never been at risk.
“This is a surprise. I don’t believe I ever had much success in talking you into coming to these functions.”
She knew he considered it easier to write a check than to suffer through an evening of small talk.
“I’m only too happy to support a good cause,” he replied smoothly, smiling for the Dershams’ benefit. To Enid, he said in a stage whisper, “She broke my heart by marrying my cousin, you know, but life goes on.”
“Office cleaned out yet?” Stephen asked. He draped an arm over the back of Catherine’s chair, the move casual and yet proprietary.
Derek pretended not to hear him, but the tic in his cheek gave away his irritation. “All’s fair in love and business. I came over here hoping to bury the hatchet.”
Stephen snorted out a laugh. “Yes, which is why I’ll be sure not to turn my back on you this evening.”
People were starting to stare, as well as straining their ears to listen. No doubt word had already gotten around the massive ballroom that both Danbury heirs were present and a confrontation was ensuing. Catherine nearly groaned. As if there wasn’t enough for the gossips to speculate on and twitter over. There would be no silencing the busybodies, but at least she could ensure the cousins were kept separate.
“Let’s dance,” she said, rising from her seat and forcing Stephen to stop glowering at Derek. “I love this song,” she added, before realizing that the number the band was presently playing was the old Nat King Cole favorite “When I Fall in Love.”
She took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The song was just ending as they turned to face one another.
Silvia Rathburn, one of the organizers of the event, rushed toward the stage.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she said as she passed Catherine and Stephen.
Silvia was a plump woman who considered pink her trademark color. She was wearing a shade just this side of shocking, and a gown whose cut was more suited to a prom-goer than a woman approaching her sixties. Catherine had worked with the woman on several projects, though, and knew her heart was far more generous than her fashion sense. At the microphone, the woman clapped her hands together as if to gain everyone’s attention.
“I want to remind everyone that bidding on the silent auction will continue until we are seated for dinner. And I have an announcement to make. Would you all raise your glasses in a toast? It seems we have something else to celebrate this evening.”
Catherine felt her mouth go dry as the woman winked at her, and she felt Stephen’s arm tighten around her waist, as if he too were bracing himself for the inevitable.
“I know none of us likes to admit we read the tabloids, but sometimes, amid the stories of alien abductions and forty-five-pound newborns, they get things right. A little birdie just told me that Catherine Canton and Derek—” She blushed, as embarrassed as they were by the unfortunate faux pas. “Excuse me. My apologies. That is, Catherine and Stephen Danbury exchanged vows last weekend. Please join me in wishing the newlyweds every happiness.”
The noise level in the room immediately rose, along with the champagne glasses. Catherine and Stephen stood alone in the middle of the large dance floor, truly the center of attention.
“Well, I’d say our secret is out,” Stephen said in a quiet voice. “Are you okay?”
“They’d all have found out eventually,” Catherine replied, somehow managing to keep a pleasant little smile curving her lips. The dimple winked and he admired her aplomb. And, though he rarely speculated about what others thought, he couldn’t help wondering what was crossing the minds of this roomful of Chicago’s elite.
The men would be jealous, he decided, looking at the lovely woman in his arms. The women? Envious that they didn’t have Catherine’s beauty or grace.
From the stage, Silvia continued, “The tabloids say they got married in Las Vegas, so I’m sure they didn’t have an opportunity to share a dance. I thought they could do that now.”
She motioned for the orchestra to begin playing, and the first strains of “As Time Goes By” filled the room.
Stephen couldn’t resist teasing her with a famous line from the movie that had made that song famous. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
He took her hand in his, raised it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. The women in the room sighed in unison, and Stephen told himself it had been entirely for show. She looked so lovely, a cross between Ingrid Bergman and Grace Kelly with her classical features and aloof mannerisms. As he rested his other hand on her slender waist he was suddenly grateful his grandmother had insisted on all those dance lessons he’d once considered a waste of time.
He led and she followed. She rested her cheek against his jaw and he tightened his hand around her waist, pulling her closer. Pulling them both in. The music stopped, but he didn’t release her.
“You dance beautifully,” she said.
“Three years of lessons, courtesy of my grandmother.”
“God bless her.”
He laughed softly. “I cursed her at the time, but I was just thinking the same thing.”
She glanced around. “The music has stopped.”
“So it has.” He lowered his head.
“W-what are you doing?” she whispered.
“Satisfying their curiosity.”
He’d said something similar that day in his bedroom. But that kiss hadn’t been so much satisfying as disturbing. The same thing, he realized, could be said about this one. Need speared through him, welcome and intrusive at the same time, taking as much as it gave in return. Mere attraction? He wanted to think so. That would be so much tidier and more simple than anything else. But something nagged at him.
He mulled it over for the rest of the evening. Studied it, and Catherine,
