flesh.
They reached the building, and Jack moved alongside it. He headed around to the kitchen entrance. Finally he stepped out of the grass and onto concrete. He slowly-reluctantly-let go of her legs so that she could slide to the ground.
And slide she did. He felt every single inch of her, and when he heard her heels hit the deck, he turned. Before he could say a word, the door flung open and Heather stood there in a floor-length sheath of shimmery gold, her long dark auburn hair twisted in some complicated up-do. 'You made it,' she said with relief. 'Quick, inside.'
'You leaked this to the press,' he accused.
Guilt flashed quickly. 'Yes, but only because this time the stalking little bastards are actually going to get the charity's name out there and do some good, so screw them. Plus I made sure they paid the thousand-dollar price tag for the evening.
Heather shut the door behind them and hugged him tight. 'You're a sweetie for doing this.'
'Just remember that the next time you're pissed off at me for something.' Jack pulled free and reached for Sam's hand. 'Sam, this is Heather Knight, my sister. Heather, meet Samantha O'Ryan.'
'The date I begged you to find.' Heather looked Sam over.
His tough, versatile, intriguing, beautiful beach girl looked right back.
'So. Are you real?' Heather asked.
'Excuse me?' Sam blinked.
'Did he hire you, or are you his real date?'
'Hey,' Jack said. 'Play nice.'
'I am not that hard up.' He shot Heather a glare, wanting to strangle her. 'She's just insanely bossy. You know, the
Heather growled at that. 'I'm only eleven months older than you, you big lug.'
'So you're admitting to being insanely bossy?'
Heather rolled her eyes. 'Okay, yes. That part is true.'
'You're both crazy,' Sam decided.
'Yeah. I'm sorry.' Heather actually even looked it. 'I'm just a little protective.'
'I guess I can understand that.' Sam's gaze hooked and held Jack's. 'Just as you should understand, I am your brother's date.
Servers continued to hurry past them, but all Jack saw was Sam-the adventurous woman with the contagious smile and amazing eyes in the sexy little black dress. 'Definitely a
Sam's grin spread.
And Heather sighed with relief. 'Finally, then.'
'Just make your money for the kids tonight,' Jack said before she could plan their wedding. 'Make enough that I don't need the monkey suit again for a while.'
'Thanks to a great lineup of auction items, I will. Oh, and I got your donation, by the way. You didn't have to do that, not on top of all the money you've already-'
'Just tell me you have food in there, lots of it, because I'm starving.'
'Oh, there's food. Amazing piles of it,' Heather assured him. 'It's going to get every person in there in a check-writing mood, I hope.'
'Good.' But Jack's smile suddenly felt a little weak thinking about the evening still ahead, and he braced himself to keep smiling until lockjaw set in.
Sam shot him a curious glance but didn't say a word. She just reached out for his hand, which he found himself grabbing on to like a lifeline.
At the moment, it was all he had.
3
Sam let Jack lead her out of the kitchen and into the main area of the club, which was one huge open room with thick white pillars, gleaming tile floors and sweeping windows overlooking the hills of grass. Beyond them was a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean, aflame as the sun set.
Sam tore her eyes from the sight and prepared to be swallowed up by the crowd. She also expected to lose sight of her attractive date because apparently, Jack was a big draw tonight. Already women were staring, most of them with dreamy smiles on their faces, making her feel as if she were back in high school with the captain of the football team at her side like a piece of eye candy.
But even back then, she'd never cared about popularity. She was who she was, and she dated guys who felt the same. Things hadn't changed much. She still didn't care about image, and as a result, her dating circle, small as it was, involved mostly fellow surfers or customers of Wild Cherries. No one had come along and turned her head in a long time.
And yet she felt her head turning now.
She honestly expected Jack to excuse himself and catch up with her later. She hadn't imagined he'd hold on to her hand with a grip of steel, or that he'd keep looking at her as if he were glad she stood at his side.
They were perfect strangers really, and yet… she held on to him as well, and felt a thrill go through her when he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the room.
The north corner was set up for dining, with rows of tables covered in white linens and china. In the south corner a band was playing, while people milled, conversed and danced.
Everyone was dressed to the hilt, sedate and professional in their partying. Sam and Jack passed a group of women in shimmery gowns, each with a man in a tux on her arm. Most stopped talking, shooting Jack more than a passing glance.
Interesting.
'Don't look directly at them,' Jack murmured in her ear, still holding tight to her hand. 'Smile, but keep your feet moving.'
'I think they want to talk to you…'
'Like I said, keep moving.' Obviously an expert at working a crowd, he weaved and dodged like a pro quarterback even when people turned toward him and tried to head him off at the pass. He kept smiling and nodding his head, but with admirable skill, avoided being detained by anyone with a camera.
'Impressive,' she murmured, and then began to catch snippets of conversation going on around them.
That one had Jack's jaw tightening, and Sam felt an odd surge of protectiveness for the man. How dare these people act as if he couldn't hear them.
The last was probably a disgusted husband, but Sam tripped over her heels as it hit her.
He wasn't the quarterback she'd just imagined, but a basketball star.
He caught her. 'You okay?'
She looked up into his startlingly handsome face and nodded. Why hadn't he told her? What was it he'd said…? He'd