Instead of going inside, I pull her around the corner, away from prying eyes, and gently push her against the wall. One of my hands lands next to her face and the other goes to the curve of her hip. “I don’t know you, but I can tell when something’s wrong, and there’s something you’re not telling me. This is your chance to be honest before we go in there. Because everyone in this town knows everyone and if there’s something you’re hiding, they’re going to know.”
She swallows thickly and closes her eyes as if she’s at war with herself. Finally, after several long beats, she speaks. “I used to live here… in this town. I haven’t been back in a while and it’s making me nervous.” She opens her eyes and her gaze locks with mine. “I’m sorry. You’re paying for this date and you deserve better. I’ll get myself together. I promise.”
She lifts her chin and squares her shoulders as if doing so will help give her the strength she needs to proceed. As I watch her put on a brave face, my feelings toward her shift. I can’t explain it, but all I want to do is take her in my arms and protect her from whatever it is she’s afraid of. I know firsthand what it’s like to be in this town, filled with its memories, but it feels as though there’s something more going on with her. She’s worried about ruining our date, but my only concern is what—or who—has her trembling. I barely even know this woman, but for some reason, I feel protective of her, and if I find out who it is that’s making her feel like this, I can guarantee there will be hell to pay.
“I need to meet with the mayor, but once I do, we can go,” I assure her. “And if at any point someone does something to upset you, let me know.”
She nods, and for the first time, seems to relax slightly. With a small ghost of a smile, she stands taller and links her arm with mine. “Thank you.”
We bypass the red carpet circus show and head straight in. I’m stopped several times by business associates and politicians I’ve done business with. Jasmine stays quiet with her arm hooked in mine, and nobody asks about her. That’s not my usual style—treating a woman like a trophy on my arm—but I figure she prefers it over being the center of attention. With everyone we come across, I watch to see if anyone even so much as looks at her the wrong way, but from what I can tell nobody does.
When we get to the bar, I order a scotch on the rocks and she asks for a bottle of water. “Not much of a drinker?” Most women would enjoy the fact that their drinks are being paid for and order something expensive.
“Not really.” She opens the bottle and brings it to her lips. I watch, mesmerized, as she tilts her head back, exposing her slim neck, and swallows the water. Thoughts of kissing my way down the column of her slim throat have my dick swelling in my pants, and I have to look away so I don’t end up with a half-chub right here.
I glance around the room, looking for Brad, but don’t see him. The music has started, but the dance floor is still empty.
“Would you like to dance?” I ask, hoping maybe it will help calm her nerves.
She looks out at the dance floor, torn, but then nods. I empty my glass in one gulp and take her half-drunk bottle from her, setting it on the counter.
I guide us to the side of the floor and take her in my arms, pulling her toward me until our bodies are almost flush against each other. Entwining our fingers together, I bring her hands up and place them around my neck. She’s stiff at first, but after a few minutes, she releases a sigh and her body sags in what feels like relief.
I can’t help but watch her as we sway to the music. She’s like a mystery hidden in a locked box and I want to figure out how to find the key so I can work it out. When she notices me staring, her cheeks flush a light pink, making her look young. The email said she’s twenty-seven, but I’m not so sure about that.
“This is nice,” she murmurs softly.
“Yeah, it is,” I agree, unable to take my eyes off of her.
Her hands tighten slightly around my nape and she gently lays the side of her face against my chest, surprising me. Even with her tall heels, she only comes up to my chin. Without them on, she’s probably five-six, maybe five-seven. Average height for a woman, but since I’m tall at six-four, it makes her appear shorter.
With her head against my chest, I can smell her perfume. It’s soft and delicate—fits her perfectly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the mayor. I should end the dance so I can catch him, but with Jasmine in my arms, I don’t. I can’t move from this spot. I don’t know if it’s the way I can feel her heart beating against mine, or how she’s finally relaxed, her hands no longer shaking, but on this dance floor, with her in my arms, everything else fades away, and the only thing I want to do is dance with her.
One song blends into another and then another, and before I know it, we’ve danced until they pause the music and announce that they’re opening the doors for the auction and the dinner.
Jasmine lifts her head and smiles shyly. “Thank you for the dance.”
“It was my pleasure.”
I take her hand in mine and guide us through the throng of people who are all shuffling through the doors like a herd of cattle. When we enter the main room, it’s open and the tables are spread out. Along the outer walls are tables with items for the silent auctions. We find our seats on the seating chart and have a seat at the table. I glance around for the mayor but don’t see him anywhere.
Two other couples join our table and introduce themselves. I don’t know them personally, but I’ve heard of both men. We spend the four-course dinner flitting from topic to topic. The men mostly discuss business while the women talk about their kids and some charity shit they’re organizing. Jasmine mostly smiles and nods, but every once in a while she contributes little nuances that reveal more and more about her. I learn she loves to stay busy. She hates to work out but loves to do yoga. She was in college but had to leave suddenly. She never gives too much, but every piece she does reveal, I stow away like a puzzle I’ll put together later once I have all the pieces.
At one point, a woman makes a joke that has Jasmine throwing her head back in laughter. The melodic, carefree sound damn near knocks the wind from my lungs. Her eyes, filled with mirth, meet mine, and for the first time she shows me a genuine smile, and holy shit, is it a sight to behold.
“What?” she asks when she catches me staring at her. “Is something wrong?” Her brows furrow and her smile falters.
“Nothing’s wrong. You just have a beautiful smile.”
Her cheeks flush pink, and her smile slowly expands until it’s back to the way it was, and my only thought, as I stare at her mouth, is that I would do anything to ensure she always smiles like that.
When dinner is over, a speech is made by none other than the mayor. Of course I can’t speak to him while he’s up there, so after we’ve had dessert and it’s announced the auctions will close in thirty minutes, I suggest we walk around so we can check them out.
The first table has several items to bid on, like first edition books and antiques, but none of them interest me, so I move us to the next table. This one is filled with trips.
“Is that you?” Jasmine asks, pointing to the four-day at sea on a yacht donated by Isaac Petrosian with Petrosian Enterprises.