said, easily sliding into the chair beside her while his eyes remained locked with hers. Her nose immediately picked up the scent of his cologne. Expensive. She quickly checked out his left hand. Ringless. Her gaze automatically went back to his face. Beautiful. Now he was smiling in earnest and showing beautiful white teeth.
“You’re amused,” she said, taking a sip of her punch but wishing she had something a little stronger.
Whoever he was, he was certainly someone worth getting to know, even if she was returning to Paris in a few months. That made it all the more plausible. It had taken her two years to get on full-time at the Louvre, and the hard work was just beginning. Once she returned, she would be working long hours, with little time to get her painting done. That was why she had brought her paints to Atlanta with her. She was determined to capture something worthwhile on canvas while she was here. The man sitting beside her would be the perfect subject.
“Flattered more than amused,” he said, his voice reaching out and actually touching her, although she barely registered his words in her mind, because she was too busy watching the way his mouth moved. Sensuously slow.
She couldn’t help wondering who he was. She had been gone from Atlanta a long time. After high school she had attended Pratt Institute in New York before doing her graduate work at the Art Institute of Boston. From there she had made the move to Paris, after landing a job as a tour professional, a glorified name for a tour guide.
He had to be around her brother Terrence’s age, or maybe a year or so younger. She wondered if he would give her his real name, or if he would stick to the rules and play this silly little game the coordinators of the ball had come up with. His name badge said Jack Sprat. No wonder he was in such fine shape, she thought. Even in the tuxedo he was wearing, she saw broad, muscular shoulders and a nice solid chest. All muscles. Definitely no fat.
“So, Jack,” she said, smiling at him the same way he was smiling at her. “What is such a nice guy like you doing at a boring party like this?”
He chuckled, and the sound sent goose bumps over her body. “Waiting to meet you so we can start having some fun.” He glanced at her name badge. “Wonder Woman.”
The smile that touched the corners of her mouth widened. She liked him already. “Well, trust me when I say, it’s a wonder that I’m here at all. I really want to be someplace else, but I promised the person who paid for this ticket that I’d come in his place. And since it’s all for charity, and for such a good cause, I decided to at least make an appearance.”
“I’m glad you did.”
And Reggie meant it. He’d thought she had a beautiful pair of lips from afar, but now he had a chance to really study them up close. They were a pair he would never forget. They were full, shapely, and had luscious-looking dips at the corners. She had them covered in light lip gloss, which was perfect; any color would detract from their modish structure.
“We’ve exchanged names, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Jack,” she said, presenting her hand to him.
He grinned. “Likewise, Wonder.”
The moment their hands touched, he felt it and knew that she did, too. Her fingers quivered on his, and for some reason, he could not release her hand. That realization unnerved him. No woman had ever had this kind of effect on him before, not in all his thirty-two years.
“Are you from Atlanta?”
Her voice, soft and filled with Southern charm, reclaimed his attention.
“Yes, born and raised right here,” he said, reluctantly releasing her hand. “What about you?”
“Same here,” she said, looking at him as if she could see through his mask. “Why haven’t we met before?”
He smiled. “How do you know that we haven’t?”
Her chuckle came easily. “Trust me. I would remember if we had. You’re the type of man a woman couldn’t easily forget.”
“Hey, that’s my line. You stole it,” he said jokingly.
“I’ll give it back to you if you take me away from here.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute but just sat there studying her face. And then he asked, “Are you sure you want to go off with me?”
She managed another smile. “Are you sure you want to take me?” she challenged.
Reggie couldn’t help but laugh loudly, so loudly, in fact, that when he glanced across the room, his brother Jared caught his gaze and gave him a raised brow. He had five brothers in all. He and Jared were the only ones still living in Atlanta. He also had a bunch of cousins in the city. It seemed Westmorelands were everywhere, but he and Jared were the only ones who were here tonight. The rest had other engagements or were off traveling someplace.
A part of Reggie was grateful for that. He was the youngest of the Atlanta-based Westmorelands, and his brothers and cousins still liked to consider him the baby of the family, although he stood six-seven and was the tallest of the clan.
“Yes, I would take you in a heartbeat, sweetheart. I would take you anywhere you wanted to go.”
And he meant it.
She nodded politely, but he knew she was thinking, trying to figure out a way she could go off with him and not take any careless risks with her safety. A woman couldn’t be too trusting these days, and he understood that.
“I have an idea,” he said finally, when she hadn’t responded and several moments had passed.
“What?”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Text someone you know and trust, and tell them to save my number. Tell them you will call them in the morning. When you call, they can erase the number.”
Olivia thought about what he’d suggested and then wondered whom she could call. Any girlfriends she’d had while living here years ago were no longer around. Of course, she couldn’t text her father, so she thought about her brothers. Duan was presently out of the city, since his job as a private investigator took him all over the country, and Terrence was living in the Florida Keys. She and her brothers were close, but it was Terrence who usually let her get away with things. Duan enjoyed playing the role of older brother. He would ask questions. Terrence would ask questions, too, but he was more easygoing.
Perhaps it was Duan’s inquisitive mind that made him such a stickler for the rules. It had to be all those years he’d worked first as a patrolman and then as a detective for Atlanta’s police department. Terrence, a former pro football player for the Miami Dolphins, knew how to have fun. He was actually the real swinging single Jeffries. He owned a nice club in the Florida Keys that really embodied the term nightlife.
Her safest bet would be to go with Terrence.
“Okay,” she said, taking the phone. She sent Terrence a quick text message, asking that he delete the phone number from which the message was sent after hearing from her in the morning. She handed the phone back to him.
“Feel better about this?” he asked her.
She met his gaze. “Yes.”
“Good. Is there
