“You look stunning, by the way,” he mumbled as they moved toward the dance floor. “Zeppetti should pay you to wear his dresses.”
“You’re good for me,” she said.
“No, you’re good for me.”
They attracted a small amount of attention as they moved through the crowd, probably more Hunter than her. People recognized him, and knew his position in the company.
When they reached the other dancers, he drew her into his arms. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and she had to caution herself against reading anything into his actions. He was probably off to London tomorrow morning. When you had your own plane, you could do things like that. And Hunter enjoyed every facet of his freewheeling, billionaire lifestyle.
But, for now, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from melting into his arms and pretending, just for a moment, that things could be different. They were still drawing glances from the other dancers. She could only hope her expression wouldn’t make her the office gossip topic tomorrow.
Hunter drew her tight against his chest.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt a kiss on the top of her head.
Risky move in this crowd.
“You leaving after the ball?” she asked, hoping to keep some semblance of professionalism between them.
“Here’s the thing,” Hunter muttered, leaning very close to her ear. “I’ve gotten rather used to seeing you naked.”
She coughed out a startled laugh. Then she tipped her head back to play along. “Why, you sweet talker.”
He smiled down at her. “I’ve also gotten used to waking up with you wrapped in my arms.”
Sinclair sobered. That was the part she thought she’d miss most-Hunter first thing in the morning, unshaven, unguarded, and always ready for romance.
“An office affair still isn’t going to work,” he went on.
She nodded and sighed. “I know.” They’d talked about all the reasons why. And they were right about them.
“It would make us crazy to keep the secret. Plus, we’d eventually get caught.”
Sinclair followed the steps as Hunter led her through the dance. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.
“So, I was thinking,” he said. “We should get married.”
Sinclair stopped dead.
He leaned down. “Sinclair?”
She didn’t answer. Was that her fevered imagination, or did he just…
“Better start dancing,” he advised. “People are beginning to stare.”
She forced her feet to move. “Did you just…”
“Propose?”
She nodded.
“Yes,” he growled low. “I’m proposing that you and I get married, so we can spend every minute together, and nobody in the office will be able to say a damn thing about it.”
Her brain still hadn’t made sense of what he was saying. “Is this one of those reckless, impulsive things of yours?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’ve been considering this for at least an hour.”
Despite the serious conversation, his tone made her chuckle.
“Okay, probably twenty-four hours,” he said. “Ever since leaving you became a reality.”
Sinclair blinked back tears of emotion.
“Or maybe it’s been ten days, ever since I walked into that boardroom. Or,” he paused. “Maybe since the first second I laid eyes on you.” He wrapped her in a hug that didn’t resemble any of the waltz moves she’d learned.
“It feels like I’ve loved you forever,” he said.
“I love you, too.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
He drew back. “Is that a yes?”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am one-hundred-percent positive. I blew off the London deal for this.”
“You’re not going to London later?”
“Actually, I’m never leaving you again.” He kissed her mouth, and she caught Roger’s astonished expression as he danced by.
“Uh oh,” she said.
“Well, we can separate occasionally. You know, during the day. But not overnight. I’m not-”
“Roger just saw you kiss me.”
“Who cares?”
“He thinks I’m your floozy now.”
“Don’t worry about Roger. I caught him kissing Chantal behind the pillar when I walked in.”
Sinclair was shocked. “Roger and Chantal?”
Hunter nodded.
It actually made sense. It explained a whole lot of things. But, strangely, Sinclair didn’t care.
She shrugged.
Hunter sobered, looking deeply into her eyes. “You, me, us, your job. You know none of it has anything to do with the other, right?”
Sinclair glanced at Roger a few dance couples away, straining his neck for a view of her and Hunter. “Roger doesn’t.”
In response Hunter kissed her again, longer this time.
Roger’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Wait till he gets a look at the rock on your finger.”
“You have a rock?”
“Actually, no. I have nothing at the moment.”
“Reckless and impulsive.”
“Not at all. This is good planning.” He took her hand in his, rubbing the knuckle of her ring finger. “We can glam this up as much as you want. But I was thinking something custom-made, to match you bracelet.”
Sinclair held up her wrist. “I do seem to have developed a fondness for the fish.”
Hunter fingered the delicate gold and jewels. “I always assumed I was the diamond one, and you were the ruby.”
“I never thought about it,” said Sinclair.
“Liar.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Well, whatever we do, it better be fast.”
“Good idea. Since that last kiss totally trashed my reputation with my coworkers.”
Hunter glanced Roger’s way. “He looks at you like that one more time, I’m making him president of the Osland button factory in Siberia.”
“You don’t have a button factory in Siberia.”
“I’ll buy one. It’ll be worth it.”
Sinclair’s phone buzzed in her little purse.
“That’ll be Kristy,” said Hunter, nodding toward the faint sound.
“How do you know that?”
“Because she knows I’m here. I bet it’s killed her to wait this long.”
“You told her…”
“That I loved you? Yeah. I’ll be telling everybody soon.”
Sinclair snapped the clasp on her purse and retrieved the phone, putting it to her ear.
“Is he there?” Kristy stage-whispered.
