“I don’t need to read the story. I was there, remember?”

“You think they caught us kissing in the park?”

“Do you care?”

“Not at all. Well, maybe if Travis saw it. He’d sure be ticked off. But to these anonymous New Yorkers?” Reed waved a dismissive hand. “I’m the guy who kissed the prima ballerina. I can strut.”

“I’m a principal dancer.”

He gave a mock frown. “That doesn’t sound nearly as exotic.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Quit complaining. I had to kiss a cowboy.”

He leaned in close and snagged her hand, voice gravelly. “You did a hell of a lot more than kiss him.”

The words spurred a hot shiver of remembrance. But she couldn’t act on it in public.

Then a family entered the atrium, adding to the crowd, and Reed gently urged her toward the glass door. It slid smoothly open, and they exited onto the windy deck, finding an empty place at the rail.

“You going to come and watch me dance tonight?” she opened. She wished she dared ask him how long he was planning to stay in the city. That was what she really wanted to know. But she’d promised herself she wouldn’t push.

“Am I invited?” he asked in return, his gaze fixed on the Manhattan skyline, growing closer as their two-hour tour came to an end.

“Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

“I have to be at the theater a few hours early, but I’ll leave a ticket at the box office.” She tried not to let her excitement rise at the thought of Reed in the audience, but her heartbeat deepened and her chest felt fuzzy. She’d dance for him tonight. It would be all for him.

“You can come backstage afterward,” she offered.

He was silent for a long moment.

“If you’d like,” she added, growing uncomfortable.

“Sure.” There was no inflection in his tone.

Had she made a misstep? It was impossible to tell, and the silence stretched between them.

“New York really is different from Colorado,” he observed.

“Taller buildings?” she asked, not really caring. Did he want to come backstage or not? Did he want to see her after the performance? Would he invite her back to the hotel? Or was he already searching for a way to let her down easily?

“Taller buildings, more noise, more people, more…I don’t know…life, I guess.”

She turned to study his profile. “Is it that bad?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you at ten years old.”

“I didn’t see it all at once,” she remembered. “I saw the airport, then Auntie Coco’s apartment. I knew there was a lot of traffic on the streets, but I never guessed how far the city sprawled.”

“Were you frightened by the crowds?”

She shook her head. “Ironically, I was lonely. But I liked the dancing, and I liked the sparkling lights.” She smiled to herself. “I particularly liked the sidewalks. I liked that you could sweep the dirt away, and they were clean and smooth.”

“I like dirt,” said Reed.

“Is that a joke?” She couldn’t tell.

“It’s life,” he said. “The dirt is what starts everything. You add seeds, and they grow into plants that get eaten by animals. And at the end of a day, if you’re dirty and sweaty, and you smell like the outdoors, you know you’ve done good. You’ve worked hard. Something that wasn’t there that morning now exists. It could be a stack of hay bales, a fence, a working motor, some clean tack. It doesn’t matter what it is. Just that you did it.”

“I hate getting dirty,” Katrina reaffirmed. Not that Reed would be surprised by that statement. It was the constant dust on her clothes and the grit in her hair that had made her most crazy growing up.

“You’re such a girl,” he teased.

“Good thing I’m pretty.”

His smile disappeared. “You’re more than just pretty.” He looked as though he was about to say something else. But then he stopped. He drew a breath. “Ever been to the Empire State Building?”

“I have.”

“You want to go again?”

“With you?” Her chest hitched.

“Tomorrow?”

She gathered her courage. “So, you’re staying a little longer?”

“I was invited to a party on Saturday night.”

At the restaurant last night, Elizabeth had extended an invitation to Reed for Liberty’s largest annual fundraising gala.

“You were noncommittal. I thought that was your polite way of turning her down.” Truth was, Katrina had also thought he was signaling to her his intention to leave before the weekend.

He chuckled. “Do you think she cares if I’m polite?”

“She liked you,” Katrina told him honestly. She’d rarely seen Elizabeth warm up to someone the way she’d warmed up to Reed. It was obvious enough that Katrina had felt a little jealous at the time. Maybe that’s why she’d pushed him so hard to sleep with her last night.

Oh, wow. That wasn’t particularly admirable.

Then she let herself off the hook. Sleeping with Reed had nothing to do with Elizabeth. Katrina simply wasn’t ready to let go of the intimacy they’d found together in the line shack.

He was a great guy and an amazing lover. And she couldn’t imagine herself with anybody else. Which meant, once this was over, lovemaking was over for her for a very, very long time.

“I liked her, too,” said Reed.

“So, you’re coming to the party?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind meeting a few more of the Liberty Ballet notables.”

“You’re going to need a tux. This is a pretty high-end affair.”

“No problem. I’ll go see Salvatore.”

“You’re going back to Brooklyn for a tux?”

“I like Salvatore. Besides, I own part of his company now. He’ll have to give me a good price.”

“Just out of curiosity.” Katrina turned and leaned her back against the rounded metal rail, asking a question that had nagged at her since last night. “How did you decide to buy into a tailor shop in Brooklyn?”

He shrugged. “Instinct more than anything. I was in Brooklyn yesterday, and Nico recommended Salvatore. We got to talking about his business. He needed some help, and it made sense to me to help him out. In the end, I looked him in the eyes. I liked him, and I liked his business.”

“Who’s Nico?”

“The guy who owns the bakery I’m buying into.”

Katrina got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Are you saying this all happened yesterday?”

“While you were rehearsing.”

She was dying to ask him how much he’d invested. She was terrified that Nico and this Salvatore character had seen Reed coming. “How do you know he didn’t rip you off?”

“I’m a good judge of character.”

“Maybe in Colorado. But this is New York City.”

“Are you questioning my judgment?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

The muscles in his neck went tight, and she braced herself.

But when he finally spoke, his tone was neutral. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How much-” She stopped herself. “Never mind. None of my business.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m sorry.”

The wind whistled past them.

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