Into the Night. Kate Hoffmann
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Beyond their shared interests on the farm, they were quite compatible in the bedroom. Sex was enjoyable, if not a bit mundane. And Tess seemed to satisfy his needs. She’d never felt giddy or light-headed, never heard angels singing or saw fireworks when they were in bed together, but she’d written all that off as some silly schoolgirl myth.
The past few years, Jeffrey’s family had been pressuring him to choose a wife and give them grandchildren. And though she and Jeffrey had discussed the subject of marriage—his marriage—their conversations had always just danced around her part in the equation. She knew he loved her. He’d told her that on a number of occasions. In her heart, she believed a marriage proposal was the next logical step.
So why did it feel as if she were settling? Perhaps, she was just too practical to lose herself in the pursuit of some fantasy man. In truth, she had a hard time imagining any relationship in which she could completely surrender her heart. The wounds of her childhood ran far too deep.
Tess studied her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She’d taken special care with her appearance, knowing she’d want to look her best for the photos that would be taken. She’d chosen a dress of garnet Thai silk that shimmered with black and gold highlights as she moved.
A rhinestone necklace circled her neck, leaving the rest of her shoulders and chest bare.
Her attention was caught by the reflection of a man who had appeared at the other end of the bar. She studied his reflection silently, listening as he requested a bottle of scotch. He was the kind of gorgeous she didn’t see very often, at least not working on a horse farm. Her stomach fluttered and she turned away, drawing a deep breath.
Tess ran her fingers through the soft curls of her shoulder-length hair, pushing the dark strands back into place. Though she wasn’t a great beauty, she was pretty enough. Standing at Jeffrey’s side, they made a handsome couple. If she set her mind to it, she could pass as someone who belonged in the Beales’ social circle.
Tess took one last sip of her drink, then opened her purse and paid the bartender. But as she walked back through the lobby to the elevator, she began to doubt her resolve. Though she ought to be feeling exhilarated, all she could sense was a faint sense of dread. His parents wouldn’t approve, the party guests wouldn’t welcome her, and she be left as she always was—an outsider searching for a way in.
“So what else is new,” she muttered, quickening her step. She’d been an outsider her entire life and had survived quite nicely. If Jeffrey asked, then she’d say yes. He was the only one who mattered. She didn’t care what people thought.
Tess hurried toward the elevator. Though her nerves threatened to get the better of her, once she’d accepted his proposal she’d be fine. The doors to the elevator were just closing as she approached. “Hold the elevator!” she cried.
A hand appeared between the doors and they opened again. Tess hurried inside. “Thanks,” she murmured as she punched the button for the top floor. There were plenty of marriages based on friendship, on respect, on mutual goals for the future. “It’s not like I have men waiting in line,” she murmured.
“What?”
She looked up and saw a familiar face. The man from the bar stood on the other side of the elevator, his piercing blue eyes suddenly stealing the breath from her lungs. She blinked, her ears suddenly filled with an odd ringing. “What?”
“You said something. I’m sorry, I thought you were talking to me.”
“No. I was just thinking out loud.” Her voice cracked. “Thanks. For holding the elevator.”
“No problem.”
They waited together for the doors to close, both of them staring back out into the lobby, Tess’s heart slamming in her chest.
“Maybe you should push the button to close the door,” he suggested.
She risked another glance over at him. Gawd, he was drop-dead sexy. She’d never seen a guy so beautiful. And it wasn’t just the perfect features or the boyish smile or the thick, dark hair. He was dressed like he’d just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. From his suit to his immaculately tailored shirt to his silk tie, it was clear that there was a killer body beneath the clothes.
“The door?” he said.
“Yes,” Tess murmured. “Thank you for holding it.” Oh, God, she’d already said that.
He stepped around her, his shoulder brushing against hers as he passed, but then she realized what he wanted her to do. Stumbling forward, she reached for the button, but her legs were so wobbly, she tripped into the control panel.
A moment later, his fingers firmly closed around her elbow and he restored her balance. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, busying herself by punching at the buttons for the door. “Fine.” She pressed her hand to her chest and felt her heart pounding beneath her palm. This was how it was supposed to feel, Tess thought. This is what Alison had been talking about. Here she was, on her way to her own engagement party and she was flustered over a complete stranger.
“What floor did you want?” she asked.
“Twelve,” he said. He pointed to the panel. “I pressed it when I got in.”
“I’m going to the roof.”
“Not planning to jump, are you?” he teased.
She gave him a sideways glance and found him smiling. “I’m considering it. But I’m afraid of heights.”
“That would be fifteen, then,” he replied, pointing to the panel.
She quickly reached out and punched the button again. Though Tess thought an outdoor party on the hotel’s roof garden was a bit foolhardy in the middle of a Nashville winter, the Beales would no doubt bring in portable heaters to warm the chilly, damp air. Money was never an object with them. The roof of the Perryman was supposed to have a stunning view of the city and the river. Only the best for the Beales, regardless of the cost. Her engagement party would certainly be memorable.
He met her gaze again and she found herself staring into the most arresting eyes. There was a devilish twinkle in them that only intensified when he smiled. “It’s going to be cold up there. Are you dressed warmly enough?”
She shrugged. “It’s a party. I’m sure there will be tents and heaters.” She nodded toward the bottle he held. “What about you? Are you going to a party too?”
He shook his head. “I’m not in a party mood. I plan to spend a quiet night in my room, maybe watch a movie.”
“You and a bottle of scotch?” This time Tess met his gaze squarely, refusing to look away. “They say you should never drink alone.”
“I know. It’s such a cliché. But this is a very good bottle of scotch. And I haven’t met anyone I’d be interested in sharing it with.” He paused. “Until now.”
She felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks and a shiver skittered down her spine. This was crazy.