Page 15 of Fight for Me

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Anne said, looking around for more waiters. “My best friend lives for these things and roped me in.”

“Best friend?”

“Maria Kant-Benowitz.”

The name struck a chord of memory. Kant was an old name for D.C. and he wasn’t surprised she’d kept it. Benowitz was unknown. Maybe new money that married up. Though how a waitress had a best friend whose family was a part of high society, he had no idea. The thought was intriguing, but it would be tactless to ask.

Suddenly, a woman wearing one of the gowns from the runway swept toward them.

“Anne, darling,” she enthused, brushing a kiss to Anne’s cheek. “I was wondering where’d you’d gotten off to.”

This must be the best friend. Her accent was British, which Blane thought odd. Maybe boarding school?

“I was starving,” Anne replied, snagging another two hors d’oeuvres from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Really, Anne,” the woman scolded, “it’s not a buffet.”

“I didn’t have lunch,” Anne mumbled around the food.

With an exasperated sigh, the woman turned to Blane. “And who might this be, Anne?”

After swallowing, Anne replied, “Senator Blane Kirk, please meet Maria Kant-Benowitz.”

“Senator,” Maria repeated, a familiar gleam in her eye. “How pleasant to meet you.” She held out her hand.

Blane had a split second to decide on shake versus kiss. He’d darn near had his nose broken by those who expected a shake. But Maria looked like a kiss, not a shake. Bending slightly, he brushed his lips across her knuckles.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“My,” she said to Anne, her eyes still on Blane’s, “what a charmer you have here.”

Anne swigged the rest of her champagne. “We’re just acquaintances,” she said, giving Maria a look. “He bought the dress.”

One of Maria’s eyebrows rose.

“For my niece,” Blane explained.

“What a lucky girl.” She shot a glance at Anne, then said, “Well, I have other guests to see to. Thank you again for your generous donation, senator. Talk to you tomorrow, Anne.”

The last was said with an added significance that wasn’t lost on Blane as she walked away.

“Did you want to stay longer? Or shall I take you home?” If he could convince her into spending some alone time with him, this night could go much better than he’d expected.,

He moved behind her, feigning taking a moment to relieve Anne of her napkin. Her scent was intoxicating. The curves of her body fit perfectly against his. Blane pressed his lips into the curve of her neck. She stiffened, then melted into him. His body tightened in response. He had to have her.

“Come with me.” His voice was a low rasp.

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Anne replied. She pulled away, looking flustered. “I can take a taxi.”

“It’s really no both—”

Several loud noises suddenly erupted, interrupting Blane and shattering the hum of conversation. Blane recognized it immediately and his blood turned cold.

Gunfire.

Chapter Four

Anne looked around, confused at the popping noise. It sounded like firecrackers, but that was impossible.

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