A Dash of Temptation. Jo Leigh
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“But don’t get all excited and start doing a tango or anything.”
“I promise. No tangos.”
She thought of that film, The American President, when Annette Benning dances with Michael Douglas for the first time. When he tells her everyone in the room isn’t looking at him, but at her.
If Tess didn’t look around, she’d be okay. Of course it was no hardship to keep her gaze on Dash. The longer she stared at him, the more she liked his face. The more real he became.
They danced as if they’d danced a hundred times before, as if the music was made to order. He held her close enough for her to catch his spicy hint of cologne.
“So, what do you think, Ms. Norton? Is the ball to your liking?”
She thought a minute, wanting to get her answer right. “It’s a nice place to visit, but I’m not sure I’d want to live here.”
He smiled. “No one really lives here. Even the Nicklebys are putting on the dog. It’s a fantasy.”
“Like our date?”
“On the contrary. It may have started out as a favor, but it’s turning into my lucky night.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky.”
His laughter pleased her way too much. “Touché.”
“I am grateful, though.”
His smile faded. “You don’t think I’m expecting anything in return, do you?”
“I don’t know. I barely know you.”
“Good point. Rest assured. I expect nothing.”
She struggled to keep the disappointment from her face. “Thank you.”
The song ended, but he didn’t let her go. They stood, his hand still on her back, while couples shuffled around them. “Don’t look now,” he whispered, leaning in so only she could hear. “But there’s Cullen.”
She instantly tensed as she followed his gaze. Cullen stood by one of the bars, the one farthest from the band. He looked elegant and easy in his tuxedo. She’d met him only once before, and that was at a crowded restaurant. He’d seemed pleasant enough, but he hadn’t been terribly interested in her. His willingness to look at her business plan was more of a favor to Brad than due to any excitement on his part.
He sipped some champagne as he canvassed the room. She watched him nod to a burly fellow, then again to a startlingly tall woman in a see-through blouse.
Tess figured he must be in his sixties. He had a thick mane of white hair with bushy matching brows. She wondered if he even remembered that they were supposed to meet here.
“Come on,” Dash said.
“Wait.”
“Okay.”
She took a deep breath. “No. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “No time like the present.”
“You’re going to knock his socks off.”
“Oh, my God.”
Dash led her slowly through the crowd. He could feel her tremble beneath his hand, but he doubted anyone could see her nervousness. She had handled this trip into the twilight zone with aplomb. He could see why she’d been so successful with her plant company.
Naturally, he’d done some checking on her. No need to be foolish, not in his position. Aside from the fact that Patrick liked her, the other recommendations he’d gotten had been glowing.
He didn’t know Brad well, but the man was a fool. If it wasn’t so impossible, he’d make a play for her himself. Not just for tonight, either. He’d like to get to know her, spend time with her. She was bright and witty and he liked the fact that she wasn’t part of his crowd. Which was the problem. She didn’t belong to his world. On a personal level, that meant nothing to him. Professionally, however, it was a different story.
Cullen was watching a busty blonde drink champagne, his gaze on her cleavage. Typical Cullen. The man had made some wise investments when a great many others had chosen poorly. His net worth was in the hundreds of millions. He did the venture capital bit because he enjoyed it. He liked to take risks on people, and he was rarely wrong. He was going to love Tess.
“Mr. Cullen?”
He looked up, slightly annoyed at being disturbed, but when he saw Tess he smiled. “Hello there.”
“I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Tess Norton. I met you a few weeks ago at Le Cirque.”
His eyes narrowed. Dash knew he was drawing a blank.
“Jeez, Cullen, I hope you’re investments are stronger than your memory.”
“Dash Black, you scoundrel.” Jim held out his hand, and Dash shook it firmly.
“I am a scoundrel indeed. But then, it takes one to know one.”
Cullen laughed, then slid his gaze back to Tess.
“Tess was telling me that you’re going to look at her business plan. I can see age hasn’t dulled your good sense.”
“So you’re with Dash, eh?” Cullen asked Tess. “I should be worried about that. He’s got something of a reputation.”
“We’re friends.” Tess took a step away from him, and Dash sensed something wrong, although he couldn’t imagine what.
“Friends?” Cullen’s eyebrows rose with a hint of a leer. “He has good taste.”
“Thank you. I just wanted to mention that you should have my business plan at your office on Monday. I appreciate you taking the time to look at it.”
“It’s all numbers,” he said. “I don’t invest to lose money.”
“Of course not. I think you’ll find I’ve put together a solid proposal.”
He studied her more carefully. “I’ll give you my honest appraisal, Ms. Norton. That’s all I can promise.”
She smiled, and Dash knew she had him. “That’s all I ask.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
Dash slapped Cullen on the back. “Good to see you, Jim. I’m sure you’ll understand why I’m going to steal Tess away?”
“Lucky man.”
“I am that, also.”
Cullen laughed, then started searching for the breasts he’d found so appealing before their interruption.
Dash found Tess’s hand and led her back toward the dance floor. Once they were well clear of Cullen, she pulled him to a stop.
“Mr. Black.”
He frowned. “We’re back to Mr. Black?”
“All right, Dash. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you didn’t need to do that.”
“Do what? Shake hands with an old friend?”
“I could have handled it myself.”
“I know. You were doing great. My intention wasn’t to interfere. Just to grease the wheels a bit.”
She looked at him with puzzled eyes. “I should be thrilled. I am thrilled. It’s just that…”
“You wanted to do this on your own.”
“Yes.”
“You did. You have. I’m just window dressing. If the man likes your proposal, it won’t have a thing to do with me. That’s not how Cullen works.”
“I suppose you’re