Deception. Donna Hill
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shimmer. The round dinner tables were covered with gold linen tablecloths, and crystal goblets stood as the centerpieces. The enormous buffet table was laden with every delicacy imaginable, the aromas taunting the senses.
The main ballroom opened out onto two huge rooms that led to enclosed balconies, giving a sweeping view of New York City. Complementing it all was the array of designer gowns and tuxedos that moved with the wearers like a second skin.
Mark felt Terri momentarily stiffen as the patrons turned to look at them as they stood in the archway. He gave the hand that held his arm an encouraging pat.
“Are you ready?”
Terri gave a tiny nod. Taking deep breaths and putting on their best smiles, they made their entrance.
Within moments Terri was separated from Mark and swept up in a flurry of greetings. Between hugs, handshakes and rapid-fire conversation, Terri tried to peer over the sea of heads to locate Mark.
Finally she spotted him on the far side of the crowded ballroom, apparently in deep conversation with a striking-looking woman.
With her hopes of imminent rescue dashed, she continued to make conversation and field questions about her next endeavor.
“So, what’s next, Ms. Powers?” asked Gordon Burke of Columbia Studios.
“This current project with the McPhearson Group and the networks will take up a great deal of time and energy,” Terri confessed. “But I do have some proposals that have been submitted for our consideration.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” asked a reporter from the Times.
“I don’t think that would be fair to my prospective clients,” she said, flashing an indulgent smile. She knew when she was being put on the spot, and her standard response was always a sure out.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mark was finally standing alone. Seeing a way out from the probing questions, she made her excuses.
“If you all will excuse me—” she lifted her chin in the direction of Mark “—I see my partner over there.” She made her getaway, breathing a sigh of relief.
Shaking a few hands and giving smiles of acknowledgment along the way, she eventually made it across the packed room, only to be greeted by a look of pure enjoyment from Mark.
“You think this is all very funny, don’t you?” Terri asked, twisting her full lips.
Mark smiled broadly. “Why, of course. Where else could a single man have the opportunity to be entertained by so many fabulous single women?”
“You are behaving yourself, aren’t you, Mark Andrews?” she warned with a sparkle in her nut-brown eyes.
“That all depends on what you mean by behaving.” He grinned and took a sip from his wineglass and wondered where Clint was.
Terri tapped Mark playfully on the arm while walking around him to the buffet table.
On the far side of the room, Clint made his entrance, accompanied by his vice president, Melissa Taylor. His six-foot-plus height cut an exquisite figure, bedecked in a black Armani tuxedo.
His arrival instantly caught Terri’s attention, and an inexplicable heat rushed through her body. Her eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, totally oblivious to the shimmering female form that stood at his side. Terri quickly looked away. When she furtively looked back in his direction, she was shocked, yet thrilled, to find that his eyes were locked on her, openly assessing her, even as his stunning companion clung possessively to his arm.
He gave an almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgment in her direction.
Flustered by the intensity of his stare, she nodded back and silently prayed that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by dropping her food all over the thick carpet.
Holding on tightly to her plate, and with as much grace as she could summon, she walked across the room to her table, not daring to look back. Yet somehow she felt those warm eyes burning through her exposed back.
Clint had zeroed in on Terri almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the black gown seemed to float over her slender body. Or how her deep brown skin glowed radiantly, tantalizing the viewer with teasing peeks of bare flesh as the dress flowed with her movements.
He had an almost uncontrollable desire to run his fingers through the locks of ebony hair that she’d wrapped magnificently on top of her head. Unconsciously he squeezed his companion’s arm to stifle the urge to touch her. There was no way that he could deny the instantaneous attraction he felt toward Terri. The powerful sensation unnerved him. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He’d always been attracted to women like his wife, Desiree. Women who were needy, women who… Desiree was dead, he reminded himself. And it was his fault.
“Is something wrong?” Melissa asked, sensing the change in Clint’s mood.
“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he answered offhandedly, as they moved into the center of the room.
Melissa cut her eyes across the room to where Clint’s gaze rested, then back to him in time to catch the look of longing in his eyes. “Why don’t we find a table and get something to eat? I’m starved,” Melissa said, a bit put off.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There are a few old friends that I want to speak with first.”
He gently eased her arm from his and crossed the floor, quickly engaging himself in a group discussion before she had a chance to protest.
For several moments Melissa stood alone, disappointed. Her hope of spending an elegant evening with Clint dissolved. But it was rare that she allowed her true feelings to show. And right now she needed something to soothe her injured ego. Putting on a practiced smile, she straightened her bare shoulders and began to do what was second nature—making men’s heads turn.
Terri made a valiant effort to focus on the food in front of her while keeping up with the conversations of the movie executives that flowed abundantly. But her mind kept wandering back to Clint. What was he doing here? She dared not ask her dining companions, knowing that her true interests would be obvious. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out before—
“Would you care to dance?”
The rich rumble of the voice seemed to shimmer down her spine and arrest her heart. Instinctively she knew it was him and was almost afraid to look up. But the large warm hand gently held her shoulder, and a surge of heat swam to her head, clouding her judgment.
She turned to look up at him and the most devastating smile assaulted her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
Terri felt hypnotized by the intensity of his dark, heated gaze. She didn’t know whether or not she had even answered him before she was gently eased onto the dance floor. In a matter of seconds her body was pressed next to his as he artfully moved with the slow, pulsing music of the band.
The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses, and she felt an overwhelming urge to snuggle closer to the hard lines of his broad frame. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, each dip and curve matching the other, she mused. How long had it been since she’d been held in a man’s arms?
Why did she have to feel so good? Clint wondered, his mind running in circles as he held her slender waist in one hand. He wanted to pull her fully against him, but dared not. He was sure that his untimely arousal would be evident.
The music drew to a conclusion, but he continued to hold her, searching for something to say, not yet ready to let her go.
She looked inquisitively up at him, a tentative smile lighting her face.
Finally he found his voice. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“A glass of tonic water with lime would be perfect.”
The melodic cadence of her voice floated to his ears. It almost