her life, her past. “Do you have a large family?”
She hesitated for a second before answering, “Average. My older brother, Nathan, is a lawyer. He lives in Washington. My younger sister, Nicole, dreams of being a famous fashion designer. She lives with our parents in Rochester. What about you?”
“Marcy, my sister, is a stockbroker like my dad,” he said with some pride. “She lives here in the city, and our parents stay most weekends in the Hamptons. My mom’s a partner in her law firm.”
“Are you and your sister close?”
“Very.”
“So are Nathan, Nicole and I.” She sipped her water. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“You love them very much,” he said with approval.
“Yes.”
Her feeling toward her family pleased him because it echoed his and also because her genuine affection for them showed she could care about someone other than herself. She seemed steady and reliable and, thankfully, grounded—so unlike the psychopath he had the misfortune to get mixed up with ten years ago, Mia; her dysfunctional relationship with her family should have been his first clue that she wasn’t playing with a full deck. But, Mia had been very good at pretending. When he remembered all the pain he had endured because of that maniac…
“Damien, are you all right?”
“Yes.” He pulled himself out of his unpleasant memories. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” At his nod, her frown nearly disappeared. “Okay. Well, I think I’ll head home. I’m beat.”
“I don’t doubt it. You put in a brutal day.”
She sighed contentedly. “I loved every second of it.”
“Good, because tomorrow will be just as long,” he promised around a smile.
“I’ll be prepared.” She stood and he followed suit. “Good night.”
“May I walk you home?” Why had he said that? It was the gentlemanly thing to do. That’s why.
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be walking the streets by yourself.”
“I’ve lived in the city my entire life, and it isn’t that late.”
“All right.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “See you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
Leaving her nearly untouched water on the table, she quickly left. She felt Damien’s eyes boring into her back. She wanted to turn around but didn’t. Instead she walked faster until she was no longer in his sight. She had to do something about her feelings for him, which were completely inappropriate and unexpected. She wasn’t going to destroy this chance by lusting after her boss—no matter how handsome and kind he was, and the sooner her contrary body realized that fact, the better off she would be.
Chapter 3
Several nights later, Natasha walked into the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel on Dennis’s arm. She wished her parents and sister were here, but her father’s newest gallery was opening in Boston. They had wanted to postpone it, but Natasha had insisted they go since Erina would be with her and she would see them all in a few weeks.
She couldn’t believe she was finally on the receiving end of a party introducing her as a prima ballerina. She glanced around the brightly lit ballroom, her eyes widening farther in awe. There had to be several hundred people in attendance. She had expected a much smaller event, but Damien had spared no expense—champagne fountains littered the room, exquisitely stacked buffet tables lined one side of the wall and elaborate ice sculptures were placed strategically throughout the ornate room that housed a multitude of sculpted stone pillars and sparkling crystal chandeliers.
Some of the hottest names in the ballet world were present, and they were here to see her. She felt like a princess and though the evening had just begun, she knew it was one she would never forget.
Her fingernails dug into Dennis’s arm, causing him to wince slightly. “Hey, release the death grip.”
“I’m sorry.” She eased the pressure on his arm. “Can you believe all of this?”
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s just a party. You’ve been to parties before.”
“Not ones held to introduce me as a prima ballerina,” she whispered back excitedly.
He glanced down into her overwhelmed face. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
“I hope not.” Her grip tightened on his arm again.
“I know I have that effect on women.” He smiled wryly. “But please don’t.”
She laughed as he intended, and her features relaxed somewhat. “I’ll try to contain my pleasure at being your date.”
“I’m surprised you asked me to escort you.”
“Why?” She stared up at him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Of course, but I thought your boyfriend would bring you.”
She shrugged. “I’m not seeing anyone currently.”
“We could remedy that.” His hand covered hers as it lay on his arm.
“Dennis, don’t start that again.” She shook her head in rebuke. “We work together, and it wouldn’t be wise for us to date while we do.”
His eyes twinkled. “Do you always do what’s wise?”
“Always,” she firmly informed him.
“What about when we’re not working together?”
She smiled sweetly. “I hope that day never comes.”
“I suppose I can’t be mad at you for thinking that way.”
“No, you can’t. Now stop hitting on me and let’s enjoy the party as friends, all right?”
“Deal.” He kissed her cheek.
“Good evening, Natasha, Dennis.”
Natasha glanced up to see a slightly frowning Damien standing in front of them. A tall slender woman was clinging to his arm as if she never intended to let go.
“Good evening, Damien.” Natasha smiled at him. He looked wonderful dressed in a black tuxedo that accentuated his muscled physique.
“Hello, Damien, nice party.” Dennis shook his hand.
“Thanks.” Damien returned the other man’s handshake. “This is Shelia Reynolds. Shelia, may I introduce Natasha Carter and Dennis Brown.”
