“Busted.” He stepped forward with a hand extended. “Hi, I’m Miles Prescott. I’m sorry. I was eavesdropping on your conversation with the Baldwins.”
“Why not join in?”
“I was intrigued by any woman who could capture Carter Baldwin’s attention like that, but I prefer my conversations one-on-one.”
She shook his hand. “So, you know the Baldwins?”
He nodded. “They’re good friends with my parents.” He released her hand. “Can I get you a drink…Theresa, was it?”
She nodded. “I’d love some champagne. Thank you.”
Instead of stepping back to the bar, he waved a waiter over, snagged a glass from the tray, and handed it to her. She raised the glass, and Miles watched her lips settle on the edge as she sipped. Her head tilted back a little, allowing him to watch her throat work.
“So, tell me your secret. How did you captivate Mr. Baldwin so easily?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He asked what I do for a living. Personally, I don’t think it’s all that captivating.”
“You might not think so, but I’ve been to functions with Baldwin, and I’ve been in board meetings with him. If he spares you more than a passing glance, you’ve caught him. Not an easy thing to do.”
“Board meetings, huh? So what do you do, Mr. Prescott?”
He flinched. “Miles, please. I’m a numbers man.”
“An accountant?”
“Not really. I help my family’s business allocate funds.” He retrieved his scotch from the edge of the bar and sipped.
“Well, now that is interesting.”
“It’s not like I save the lives of premature babies.”
“No, but you’re the man who can make my job easier. It seems as though you’re the person I should’ve been using all my charm on instead of Mr. Baldwin.” She took another drink of her champagne with a smile.
“I’m pretty sure that’s unnecessary, but I would love to hear more about your work. Do you have a seat saved for dinner?”
“Are you asking if I’m here with a date?”
“That obvious?”
“A little.” She finished her champagne.
“Does that mean you won’t tell me?”
“I’m alone, except for my friend Angie.”
“Excellent. Then the two of you can join me at my table.”
She pursed her lips. “We’ll see.” She reached past him and set her empty glass on the bar. “Pleasure to meet you, Miles. I’m off to mingle.”
Miles knocked back the rest of his drink and stared at Theresa retreating through the crowd. She walked with confidence and the alluring sway of her hips wasn’t lost on him. As she stopped to speak with various people, he kept an eye on her.
His gut told him that spending dinner with Theresa would be an excellent way to pass the night.
Chapter Two
Tess smiled as she bowed out of another conversation with a guest. She couldn’t even remember the woman’s name because she was distracted by Miles staring at her. His attention was appreciative, not creepy. And it had been a hell of a long time since she’d felt a man look at her like that.
Of course, it had been equally as long since she’d been dressed like this. Her everyday wear consisted of scrubs while on duty, and jeans and T-shirts at home. She wandered to the tables of silent-auction items. Sliding a glance over her shoulder, she took another peek at Miles.
He stood with an air of confidence as he spoke to people. His face was too pretty. One that belonged to someone who didn’t have worries. He had a neatly trimmed close-cut beard, a little scruffy—definitely added to his sex appeal.
And his tuxedo. Obviously made for him. He could give James Bond a run for his money.
Just then, Miles raised his glass in her direction. What had he said? Busted. She straightened her shoulders. Well, it was only fitting since he’d been staring at her. She winked and turned her attention to the basket in front of her. It was filled with some fancy French soap. Nothing interesting.
Behind her, a couple of women were chatting, and when she overheard them mention Miles’s name, she slowed her progress down the aisle.
“I wouldn’t mind another evening with him. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and it’s been a couple of years.”
“Sorry, Anastasia, I’ve heard he’s being far more discreet with whom he chooses to spend time.”
Anastasia giggled. “Whoever you’re using for information is wrong. I’ve seen him with three new women this month. Really, you need to get on social media. It’s far more reliable than the old rumor mill.”
Tess moved down the line to check out the other items, refusing to look behind her to check out Anastasia. She tried not to let the sting of disappointment get to her. Of course someone as good-looking as Miles had his pick of women. For a brief moment, his attention had made her feel special. In reality, he was exactly what she was looking for. But messing with a possible donor probably wasn’t the brightest idea. Especially if he wasn’t truly discreet. She’d never slept with a guest from the gala. It was a little too much like sleeping with someone from work, which was a line she would never cross.
She continued to check out baskets and gift certificates for the auction. Every year, she bid on a couple of things but never actually won. Her bids mostly prompted others to bid more, and they quickly exceeded her budget. As she neared the end of the first table, a glass of champagne appeared in front of her.
Turning, she saw Miles standing beside her.
“You look thirsty.”
She accepted the glass. “Thoughtful, but I am capable of getting my own drink.”
“I used the champagne as a reason to accept your invitation.”
“Invitation?”
He stood close, and her skin flushed with his proximity. This guy knew how to get to a woman.
“You winked at me.”
“What? I did no such thing.” Since when do I play coy?
He lowered his mouth, closer to her ear. “Sure you did. When I caught you staring at me.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she responded, not hiding her smile.
“My mother always told me I had a wild imagination and was given to fantasies.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, barely skimming his fingers over her neck and causing a ripple of pleasure to race across her skin.
Tess wondered what fantasies he might have. Flirting with Miles was fun. “Have you bid on anything?”
“Hmmm?” He stared at her, his eyes never wavering or wandering.
She tilted her head toward the table. “The silent auction.”
“I haven’t even looked yet. Mind if I join you?”
“By all means. Anything for a good cause.” She turned to head back to where she’d started, looking over her shoulder to make sure he followed. “We should start from the beginning. Wouldn’t want to miss anything.”
“There’s a specific path to take?”
“Not officially, but if you start in the middle of one table, you’ll lose track of what you’ve seen and what you haven’t. What if you give up, thinking you’ve already looked at a table, and you miss out on the one item that would complete your life?” she teased.
Miles crowded into her space and spoke softly. “You’re telling me the answers to all of life’s problems can be found right here at this auction table?”
“You never know,” she answered with a smile. “In this fine basket, we have fancy soap. From France,” she said with a flourish of her hand.
Miles bent over and peered into the basket. “It’s soap.”
“That’s what I just said.”
He pointed to the bid sheet below the basket. “People are bidding a ton of money for soap.”
“To each his own?” she offered.
“For that price, I’d expect the soap to jump up and rub itself on me.”
Tess snickered at the image he provided. I wouldn’t mind being part of that shower.
&nb
sp; “Sorry. That was probably inappropriate.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “I spend a good portion of my day cleaning up bodily fluids. It’ll take much more than that to bother me.”
“Good to know.”
They moved down the table, and Tess found herself having a great time. She and Miles made jokes about some of the baskets and questioned the contents of others. Miles began putting in bids on many of them simply because they made him laugh.
“What are you going to do if you win a whole bunch of these?”
“Go home with a smile on my face.”
She couldn’t imagine handing over that kind of money—charity or not. She paused in front of the next item. She had no jokes for this one. She’d had her eye on it since first thing tonight. It was a spa retreat. She had made the first bid, which had since been totally blown out of the water.
“What’s this one?”
“A spa day.” She turned her face to his. “Not something someone like you needs.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your skin is flawless. You don’t need a rejuvenating skin peel.” Damn. She wasn’t being any more subtle than he’d been when he’d fished for her date status.
“Good genes,” he answered. But he picked up the card that described all of the spa services included.
Tess held in her sigh at the thought of her loss. That was the problem with pretending, even for one night, that her life was different than it was. She started to long for things. Things like a spa package she’d never be able to afford.
Moving away from the gift certificate, she turned the corner to the final table before realizing Miles hadn’t followed. When she looked back, he was speaking to another woman. It appeared he’d found something more interesting than their jokes.
She shook her head. Miles was promising. He was flirty and probably likely to accept a single night of fun without asking too many questions. Plus, he obviously had a reputation for one and done. She left the auction tables and wound back through the crowd.
The event tended to draw couples, so it wasn’t exactly a singles mixer. After dinner and maybe a dance or two, if she were lucky, she would go upstairs to the Shanghai Terrace for a drink. There, she always had luck in finding companionship for her night out.
Dinner would start soon, so Tess began looking for Angie so they could sit together. They found each other walking from opposite ends of the bar.
“Here,” Angie said, pushing a glass of champagne toward her. “I snagged an extra because they never reopen the bar fast enough after dinner. Where do you want to sit?”
Tess immediately thought of Miles’s offer to sit with him. “I’m not sure.”
“Table five,” a low voice said behind her.
She spun to find Miles. “You’re making a habit of sneaking up on me.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Maybe announce yourself as you get near so my heart doesn’t forget to beat.”
“Introduce me to your friend?”
“Angie, this is Miles. We met at the bar and shared a few laughs at the auction table.”
“Where you abandoned me,” he joked as he extended a hand to Angie. “Nice to meet you.”
“I did not abandon you. You were caught up in conversation with someone.” She hated that someone came out more like an accusation.
“I was asking a question before placing a bid.” He turned back to Angie. “You’re both invited to sit at my table. Do you work at the hospital as well?”
“I’m a nurse, too.” Angie nodded and smiled appreciatively at him.
“Shall we?” Miles asked, extending his arm toward the banquet tables.
…
Miles owed his mother a gift for making him attend the hospital benefit. Of all the events he’d participated in over the years, he couldn’t remember ever having such a good time. Dinner breezed by faster than he’d wanted it to. After he introduced the nurses to everyone at the table, including his mother, Theresa and Angie kept him engaged in conversation the entire time. They were probably rude to the others at their table, given the looks his mother had shot his way repeatedly.
But even she had enjoyed talking with the nurses. The emcee announced the closing of bids for the auction and that winners would be posted shortly after the speakers were finished.
Theresa leaned close. “Sure you don’t want to run over there and up your bid? Someone else might walk away with the fancy French soap.”
“I think I can pass.”
As they settled in to listen to the speakers address the audience, Miles went to the bar and got another round of drinks for the women. Thankfully, the speeches were short. That meant dancing would start soon, and he had plans for the dance floor and Theresa.
When the list of auction winners went up, he followed Angie, who hoped to win one. Theresa declined, saying she hadn’t bid. Much to his surprise, he won three of the items he’d bid on, including the one he wanted most. Tucking two envelopes into his jacket pocket, he picked up the remaining basket—a Chicago sports team theme.
Back at the table, Theresa’s face lit up. “What’d you get?”
He set the basket down.
She gave him an exaggerated frown. “I really hoped to be able to try out the fancy soap.”
“What are the two of you going on about with the soap?” his mother asked.
“Nothing.” There was no point in trying to explain it to his mother. “I bid on this because I thought Sabrina would like it.” He spun the basket to his mother.
She narrowed her eyes as she took in the contents. “I’m sure she will like that. It was very thoughtful of you.”
“Sabrina?” Theresa asked.
“My older sister. She’s a sports nut. My dad was a season ticket holder for the Bears, and she used to go to all the games with him.”
His mom leaned forward. “Sabrina’s my oldest. My husband had hoped for a boy. Even though Bradley came along only two years later, as soon as Sabrina was old enough to sit through an entire game, it became their time together. By the time she reached junior high, she was involved with every sport imaginable.”
“Much to my mother’s dismay. She never got to treat Sabrina like a Barbie doll.”
“I have never acted as though my daughter was a doll.”
“That’s not what Sabrina says.”
Mom humphed at him. “As if asking her to dress appropriately, in a gown, was asking too much.” She leaned even closer to Theresa. “Not even for her prom. I had to fight to get her into a dress. She almost didn’t go.”
Mom spoke like it was unfathomable to not attend your prom. Miles guessed to someone whose life depended on being out in society, not going to something as momentous as prom probably felt like a death knell.
“Did you attend your prom, Theresa?”
“Yes, I did. I loved it. Dressing up, feeling like a princess.” She took a sip of her water. “It’s why I come to this benefit every year. I spend my days wearing scrubs, but here, I get to be beautiful.”
“I bet you’re beautiful regardless of what you wear,” he said.
Theresa’s cheeks grew pink. Before either of them said anything else, Angie returned carrying a small basket.
“I got it!”
“What?” Theresa asked.
“Check it out.” She set the basket on the table.
“How did I miss this one?” She poked at the cellophane to move an item inside.
“Your method of following a specific path didn’t work out after all, huh?” Miles leaned closer to see what the excitement was all about.
“I guess I was distracted and missed out, which proves my point.”
“Your loss, my gain,” Angie said.
“You’ll share, though.”
Miles peered into the basket. “Coffee? That’s what’s got you ramped up?”
It was almost as bad as soap.
Theresa rolled her eyes. “Coffee is the lifeblood of the nurse who
works twelve-hour shifts, sometimes without being able to stop to eat. Our time is fueled by caffeine.”
“And in case you didn’t know, the hospital coffee is awful. This is special.” Angie petted the basket.
The band had set up and began playing music, and a few couples took to the dance floor.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“I shouldn’t leave Angie.”
Angie shoved her. “Go dance. I’m going home anyway.”
“What? It’s early.”
“I’m on at six tomorrow morning.”
“That sucks. I thought you were off.”
“Nope, but at least I’ll have my new friend to comfort me in the morning.” Again, she stroked the basket.
These women were strange. They stood and hugged briefly. Miles stood as well and offered to walk Angie out, just so he could prove to his mother that she had raised him right. Even though Angie waved him off, his mother gave him a nod of approval.
Miles held out his arm for Theresa. “Shall we?”
She wasn’t shy at all about getting close to him and letting him hold her. The music was nothing contemporary, but Miles didn’t care. For a change, he was enjoying being at a fundraising event, and his night was only getting better.
“Have you come to this gala before?” Theresa asked.
“No. My parents always attended together. This is the first time my mom has come since my dad died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She quieted again and allowed him to guide her closer to his body. While she didn’t rest her head on his shoulder, his cheek brushed her temple. He wanted to kiss her. But not here on a dance floor full of people, with his mother nearby to witness. No, he wanted her all to himself.
More than anything, he wanted to invite her upstairs, but he was afraid of offending her. He wasn’t thinking about sleeping with her. Well, he was, but it wasn’t the reason for the invitation. He wanted to get to know her, and if that led to kissing and touching, all the better.
They stayed on the dance floor for three songs before she pulled away. “You’re a really good dancer, but my feet are killing me. I’m not used to walking around in heels.”
Back at the table, his mom stood. “I’m tired, Miles, so I’m going up to my room.”
One Night with a Millionaire (Daring Divorcees) Page 2