Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
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That’s how we met, and that’s how we kept it quiet.”
“Right across the hall from each other, as fate would have it,” Marcus added.
Marcus had spoken so quickly that it was as if he was finishing her sentence. It came across as perfectly natural and seamless, nothing at all like the true nature of their relationship.
“And?” Maryann asked. “I want juicy details. This is your chance, you know. I could plaster you two all over our home page tomorrow morning. Our site is insanely good for business.”
Just then, a photographer popped up behind Maryann and snapped some pictures. The network had granted several news outlets unlimited access to the party. Including Maryann’s trashy website, apparently.
“It’s quite simple.” Marcus put his arm around Ashley. “We went on a date and sparks flew.”
Ashley would’ve beamed at the fact that he’d remembered he was supposed to mention sparks if she wasn’t so dumbstruck by having his solid arm draped across her shoulder. He tugged her closer, the way a real boyfriend would. He was even rubbing her upper arm with his fingertips in gentle, swirling circles. She had to make a conscious decision to remain standing. Either the gin was getting to her or that soft brush of his skin on hers was making her light-headed.
“I just think it’s weird that I haven’t seen you two out anywhere together. This isn’t some sort of publicity stunt, is it? We got a zillion comments on those pictures of you buying ice cream, and that wasn’t that long ago. The timing seems a little convenient. I know Grace. She’s a brilliant publicist. There’s no way she was going to let those pictures go unanswered.”
If Ashley could’ve chosen a superpower at that moment, it would’ve been the ability to make Maryann invisible. As in gone. They needed to get away from her, if only for her own sanity. She put her arm around Marcus’s waist and rested her head against his shoulder. She also kicked the side of his shoe as slyly as possible. “Sorry. No big conspiracy.” Just a little one.
Marcus cleared his throat and cast his sights at Ashley. Judging by the look in his eyes, he’d caught Ashley’s drift. “Shall we mingle a bit, love? I’m sure you have an awful lot of people you need to speak with tonight.” Marcus turned away, but Maryann grabbed Ashley’s arm.
“And a British gin magnate who’s a calendar model?” Maryann asked. “A little heavy-handed, don’t you think?”
Marcus spun around and confronted Maryann head-on. “I’m sorry, but that calendar is for charity, and there’s nearly twenty years of tradition behind it. And my occupation is what it is. My family has been making gin for well over a century. As for the rest of the things you’re insinuating, this is Ashley’s big night, and I believe it’s time for us to, uh...” He scanned the room. “It’s time for us to have our first dance.”
He grabbed Ashley’s hand and barreled through the crowd with her in his wake. They arrived on the dance floor in little time. He settled one hand in hers, placed the other on her waist and steered them toward the center, away from Maryann. “I’m sorry, but we had to get away from that dreadful woman. You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” As a little girl, Ashley had spent many sweltering summer evenings out on the wraparound porch, listening to music with her parents, learning to dance like a lady. The music tonight wasn’t quite the same, taking a decidedly slower—and, to Ashley’s chagrin, a much more romantic—turn.
“I don’t want to be old-fashioned,” Marcus said, “but it is generally considered the man’s job to lead.”
Ashley wasn’t good at this part. Even at the age of seven, she’d been accused of trying to lead. “After all of that with Maryann, you’re going to give me a hard time about leading?”
He yanked her tightly against him, sending a surprising shock through her entire body. “Just relax.”
“Hey. That’s my line.” She took a deep breath, far too aware that she was pressed against his rock-hard, heavenly torso. A few layers of clothing gone and this dance would take on a whole new meaning. He wound them through the other couples dancing. He did it so well that they were garnering attention. People were starting to watch them. Once again, under the microscope.
“I’m sorry if what I said was embarrassing for you,” he started. “I couldn’t stand another word out of that horrible woman’s mouth.”
Ashley looked up at him, his expression as stern as any other day. Still, for the first time ever, it felt almost as if they were on the same side. “I’m sure she’ll make me pay for it eventually, but I’m glad you did it. She had it coming.”
“I should probably explain that bit about the calendar. It’s silly, really.”
“I already know about it. I saw it online.”
He smirked. “So you went looking for dirt on me.”
“A girl has to be careful. There are a lot of creeps in this city. I had to make sure you hadn’t left England to escape a murder charge.”
A smile crossed his lips and he shook his head. “Escaping that calendar was a good enough reason on its own to leave England. My sister talked me into it, but I think her motives went beyond charity. I’d only been divorced a few months, and she had this crazy idea it would help me find a woman.”
She really wanted to ask him about his ex-wife, but she didn’t dare risk upsetting him. She didn’t want to leave the security of his arms. “Sounds like your sister could be gunning for my job.”
He laughed, which she loved. She’d made him angry so many times. This was a nice change.
“You don’t really enjoy all of this, do you?” he asked. “Being the center of attention.”
Her normal inclination would be to deny the suggestion, especially coming from him. “You know, I get that this is just part of the job, but I get overwhelmed. My first inclination when I walk into any party is to turn around and run.”
“So you do better one-on-one.”
Was that flirtation she heard in this voice? No matter his intention, his words made her knees wobble. “I definitely prefer being the center of one person’s attention.”
“Like now.”
“Exactly like now.”
The song changed, but Marcus kept her close as if he had no intention of letting go. “People are staring at us, you know.”
What was it about his voice that made her so weak in the knees? “I noticed.”
“I wonder what they’re all thinking.”
She swallowed hard but couldn’t stop the words coming next. “They’re all wondering if we’re in love.”
“Ah, right. Love.” He shook his head. “Your public will become that much more fascinated by you if they think the matchmaker is in love.”
“So I’m told.”
“And you believe all of that business about there being a true love for everyone? Or is it just for the show?”
Funny, but no one else had ever asked her that question. “I do believe it.”
Marcus took a look around the dance floor. All eyes were indeed trained on them. “I’m tempted to give them a show, you know. If nothing else, we could shut up that horrible Maryann woman.”
Again, his rich, buttery accent was working its way into her. He could have read her the side of a cereal box and she would’ve been mesmerized. “What did you have in mind?”
“If we do it, I think we start slowly, give them a taste of what’s to come.”
Her mind raced at the mention of “do it,” especially since she was reasonably certain he didn’t mean “it.”