Page 54 of Prelude To You

Roman walked a few yards down the hall and turned back, wiping an exasperated hand over his mouth. Obviously this scenario was challenging his ability to control the situation. Or himself. Or both.

I ironed out my dress. Very aware of his enduring gaze. I pushed loose strands of my hair into the chignon, eventually giving up halfway. I sighed. “God, I must look a mess.”

A small twitch harried the corner of his mouth. Was it my imagination or was there a small glitch in his composure, almost as if he had to put a lot of effort into not ravaging me again right then and there.

“You don’t look a mess, Isabel… You are insanely perfect.”

The way he said it, barely moving his lips, as if this was the only time he would admit to a weakness within himself. He put his hand on my back, steering me from our hiding place. “Come, we have an auction to attend.”

We strolled back into the foyer. I felt it was very apparent for all to see that I’d just behaved like a complete slut with a total stranger and experienced an earth-shattering orgasm, all within a few measly yards of this foyer where everyone else was behaving respectably.

Roman’s hand slid from my back to my hand, folding his fingers around mine. Almost as if to claim me as his.

“We should talk about that kiss, Isabel.”

“Why?” I purred innocently. “Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss.”

“No. That wasn’t just a kiss. That was a kiss to end all kisses.”

Roman stopped and turned me to him, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. He smiled. “You should probably not have kissed me like that.”

His amusement was contagious, and I stifled a giggle. “Why not?”

“That’s the kind of kiss that turns boys into men and frogs into princes, and forces kings to abdicate their thrones.”

He was being so ridiculous I had to laugh.

He touched my cheek with the back of his hand. “The only question is, which one am I?”

16

ISABEL

“Roman!” A deep voice called out from behind, yanking us from the moment. We both swung around. The voice belonged to an older gentleman with a much younger woman on his arm.

At a guess, she was about my age. She was pretty in a very Sephora unlimited-store-credit-card way, wearing the most perfect dress, and there wasn’t a platinum blonde hair out of place. I was almost sure the jewelry she wore came with its own security team.

“Porter…Celeste,” Roman greeted them, smiling. “It’s been a while. This is Isabel… Isabel, this is Porter and Celeste Van Buren.” Roman’s hand remained on my back, casually resting there as if I belonged at his side.

The Van Burens both stared at me curiously, as if slightly bemused. Clearly I wasn’t part of their social clique. I pretended not to notice.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you,” I said with a friendly smile.

Porter Van Buren swung his attention back to Roman. “Are you here for the Rothstein-Fauber wedding reception? Not that either of you are dressed for it.”

“Ah, so that’s what’s going on here tonight,” Roman said. “But no, Isabel and I have other plans.”

Celeste winced visibly, looking off into the void with a tight smile. Which made me extremely curious. Van Buren’s brows shot to the sky, a man easily irritated when things didn’t go his way. “Well, I was hoping you’d attend.”

Roman looked off, seemingly bored with the conversation. “I think you know by now I don’t attend these things willingly, Porter.”

Van Buren was not dissuaded. “But while I have you here… We have the upcominggubernatorialrace to discuss quickly.”

More people were streaming into the Belmont, all dressed to the nines. More than one glanced in our small group’s direction. There were raised eyebrows and chatter behind cupped hands, all very refined.

Roman glanced at me, realizing how out of my depth I felt. He tugged me closer to him, a comforting gesture that was balm to the uneasiness I felt.

“We have nothing to discuss, Porter,” Roman said. “I don’t believe politics and business should mix.”

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