The thought was so astounding that she forgot to breathe as she considered the possibility.
“Rachel!” someone called her. It took her a moment to turn and face the person racing towards her. But as she lifted her eyes, her shoulders pulled back, and her lips curled into a smile. Confidence was…heady and powerful! “Yes?” she replied, smiling even more brightly.
The man asked his question and she gave him directions. He moved off, but another person approached. For the next hour, she wandered through the ballroom, the kitchen, and the security office answering questions and ensuring that the gala went off without a hitch.
And the whole time, she thought frantically, trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. And her heart!
One thing she was absolutely certain about…she loved Tarin. And without the haze of humiliation clouding her vision, she suspected that Tarin loved her. Was it possible?
Stepping into the ballroom, her gaze zeroed in on his tall form. Leaning against the doorjamb, she watched, thinking about how he touched her when they were alone, or the way he’d look at her when they were with others. Could that be love?
In that moment, he turned, his eyes searching the crowd. For her? Could he feel her gaze?
Sure enough, he caught her looking at him and she smiled. His eyes warmed and she could see his intent even from this distance.
Everyone was dancing and having a good time, the champagne flowing, tables filled with food and waiters moved among the guests, offering appetizers to those who weren’t ready for dinner yet. It was a magical evening and she’d done this, Rachel thought with pride. She’d coordinated this event where everyone was enjoying themselves! It had been her, along with an army of staff, but her ideas and her efforts!
Tarin paused, drinking in her figure in the moss green chiffon dress with the shimmering flowers. She knew that he didn’t think her dress was wrong. He’d chosen it and she felt…beautiful.
“Stop it!” her mother hissed, moving to stand beside her. “You’re making a fool of yourself!”
Rachel turned slowly to look at her mother, surprised by the acid in her tone.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Denise whispered. “I’ll stand on her other side. Everyone will assume that he’s staring at me. It will be okay.”
“I can’t believe we still have to protect you like this,” her mother grumbled, pasting on a fake smile as she sipped her champagne.
Rachel eyed her sister, watched her preen and pretend to laugh. Why was she laughing? For a moment, Rachel wondered if the rest of the room thought she looked silly too. Or was it just Rachel, seeing her family with new eyes?
“I don’t look silly, and I’m not making a fool of myself,” she said flatly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother snapped.
“He’s coming towards us!” Denise hissed. “Shut up and let me do the talking.”
Rachel didn’t even bother to look at her sister. Instead, she focused on Tarin as he came towards her and she shivered at the intent in his eyes. Un-blinded, she saw it. She actually saw the love he felt for her glowing in his eyes!
“Good evening ladies,” he said and Rachel dipped into a perfect curtsy. She felt her mother and sister stare at her, then both of them reacted. Just as Rachel rose from her deep, elegant curtsy, her mother and sister started theirs, fumbling a bit. A curtsy looked easy because the people who knew they’d need to curtsy practiced the movement until it was perfect. But Pamela and Denise were too arrogant and unschooled in palace protocols, so they hadn’t bothered to ask what the appropriate greeting was for a member of the royal family.
Rachel watched with silent amusement as her mother and sister tried valiantly to perform an elegant curtsy – and failed! As they rose, she focused her attention on Tarin. “You look very dashing tonight, Your Highness,” and her eyes twinkled as she used his title. Rachel even giggled when she heard his growling response.
“And you look exceptionally beautiful, Ms. Morris,” he replied in return, just as teasingly formal.
Rachel beamed and started to step closer, intending to whisper in his ear. But Denise elbowed her way between them, forcing Rachel to reel backwards, startled. Rachel heard several gasps from the guests closest who had witnessed the horrible faux pas, but she didn’t look around, preferring to rise above and pretend as if her sister hadn’t just done something horribly rude.
Tarin, on the other hand, wasn’t about to ignore it! “Excuse me, Miss Morris,” he said to Denise with an icy frown, “But you just interrupted Rachel. Please step back.” His last three words were clipped and succinct.
Denise pulled out her best smile, tilted her head in a coquettish manner, and moved closer. “Look, I know that Rachel is your secretary and you’re trying to be nice and all, but she won’t mind if we dance. I know she’ll understand.”
“First of all, Rachel is my project manager, and the best I’ve ever worked with. She is exceptionally talented and incredibly valuable.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Secondly, don’t ever interrupt me or step in front of me.” Tarin sighed, obviously striving for patience. “Now, I’d like to speak with Rachel. Step back.”
Denise seemed oblivious to his set down and waved a hand dismissively at Rachel. “Oh, just…let her be. She’ll shrink away and go find a wall to lean on. Why don’t we…?”
“I’m going to dance with Rachel, Miss Morris. If you don’t…!”
Denise snickered and looked behind her. “Rachel doesn’t dance! She’s tried so many times before.” Denise turned and looped her arm through Tarin’s, rubbing her breast against his arm. “You should have
