Promises (25 page)

Stopping just outside the door, she bathed in his heated gaze.
 
The answer to the million-dollar question was a big yes.
 
The look on his handsome face left no doubt she most definitely looked sexy.
 
He wanted her, and he wasn’t pretending anything.

Both relieved and thrilled, she let her gaze take a leisurely tour of him.
 
The sight of Travis decked out in a tux was something she would never forget and neither would her body.
 
Her legs turned to water, her pulse sped out of control, and that place deep inside her ached to become a part of him.
 
Not even her vivid imagination could’ve conjured up such a perfect man, such a wonderfully dark prince.

The clean crisp lines of his jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, and she easily envisioned sliding her hands in between the lapels, feeling the powerful span of his chest beneath the stark white shirt.
 
Heavens, he was gorgeous, and she loved him with every fiber of her being.

Would she ever be able to live with herself if she didn’t tell him how she felt?
 
Never knowing if they could make things work between them?

Maybe
—
possibly, but now was not the time.
 
Later would be better.
 
After they came back to the room.
 
Maybe then she’d find the nerve to tell him.
 
Risking her hopeful heart was no small step, but one she would have to take.
 
After they had some time to mingle with Monte Carlo’s elite and sip a glass or two of champagne, she would tell him everything.
 
And maybe, just maybe he felt more for her than he did Sylvia.

A slice of guilt shot across her conscience, but she loved him so much she couldn’t help wanting him in her life.

“You look stunning.”
 
His husky voice added to the intense glimmer in his eyes.

She felt compelled to be near him, to touch him.
 
Her heart wouldn’t start beating again if she didn’t.
 
As she moved slowly across the room, she breathed a tremulous sigh of relief she’d chosen a full-length gown.
 
Knocking knees were not sexy.
 

Stopping directly in front of him, she let the heat emanating from his body wrap her in an invisible cloak.
 
With trembling hands, she reached up and straightened his already straight bow tie.
 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said.

Travis placed his hands over hers.
 
The hitch in her breath sent a surge of heat racing through his veins.
 
There was no denying they shared a strong sexual attraction for one another, but he wanted more than that.
 
He needed to tell her how he felt.
 
He needed her to know that he loved her more than his next breath, but the words stuck solidly in his throat.
 
For the first time in his life he was a coward.

“Um, we should probably get going,” she said and pulled away.
 

He cleared his throat with every intention of speaking his mind and his heart, but the glint and sparkle of sequins in her dress hypnotized him.
 
He’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
 

When she turned her back to him and draped the chiffon cape over her shoulders, his jaw dropped.
 
Her dress dipped below the curve of her back exposing vast amounts of her delicious skin, almost more than was decent.
 

He gravitated toward her then quickly gave himself a mental shake.
 
They needed to leave before he lost control, pulled her into his arms, and peeled her out of that dress, what there was of it.
 
She seemed genuinely interested in going to the opening, and if that would make her happy then so be it.
 
Even if it did involve a slick talking Frenchman who would see all that skin.

Regaining his composure, he patted his jacket for the fifth time where he’d slid the disk into the lining.
 
Keeping the damning evidence on his person may not be the wisest thing to do, but he was determined to bring an end to the game.
 
He wanted Bobbi safe, and wasn’t about to let the only thing that could keep her alive out of his possession for a second.

Satisfied the disk was well hidden, he crossed the room and opened the door.
 
Once in the hallway she casually slipped her arm through his, sending another jolt of electricity racing through his body.
 
How long did art shows last?

Longer than he would, no doubt.

They made their way out of the hotel and onto the street.
 
They considered walking the few blocks to the gallery, but thought better of it.
 
His leg wasn’t bothering him too much, but he didn’t want to put any more stress on it than absolutely necessary.
 
Although he managed to go all day without his cane, he probably should have brought it, and yet having his hands free in case of trouble was the better option.
 
Not to mention, he was liable to use the thing on Henri, which would definitely not win him any points with Bobbi.

Once they arrived at the gallery, he let her lead the way.
 
This was the sort of thing she was used to.
 
He, on the other hand, felt so out of place he hesitated to even open his mouth.
 

As they wandered through room after room of paintings and sculptures, they nibbled on passable hors d'oeuvres, drank champagne that wasn’t the best, and examined Henri’s work.
 

Travis begrudgingly admitted the man had talent, but he knew Bobbi was better.
 
So what if he was a little biased?
 
Wasn’t he supposed to be where the woman he loved was concerned?
 

He nearly laughed out loud.
 
Would he ever get used to being in love?
 
Something, until a few days ago, he swore would never happen to him.
 
Not again.
 
Not like this.

The crowd in the gallery thickened, and they were forced to walk one behind the other as they examined the paintings.
 
The air grew warmer, and Bobbi adjusted her wrap to hang at the bends of her elbows exposing more of her back.
 

His body temperature jumped several degrees.
 
The light dusting of freckles trailing down her spine begged to be explored.
 
Much more of this torture and he’d go insane.

They came to a stop near a tight circle of people hovering around Henri, and she waggled her fingers in the air to gain his attention.

“C
hérie
!”
 
Henri barreled through his admiring fans, reaching for her.

Travis’ gut clenched as the artist took her in his arms.
 

“You look fantastic!”
 
He kissed each side of her face then hovered close to her ear.
 
“I may have to whisk you away and make passionate love to you.”

Travis stepped up beside her, glared full force at Henri, then placed his arm possessively around her waist.
 
Instead of stiffening as he feared she might, she trembled.
 
Was that a good thing, or was she afraid he was going to scare off her French boyfriend?

“Not tonight, Henri,” she replied brightly.
 

“You wound me.”
 
The flamboyant artist clutched his chest.

She laughed softly and glanced around the room.
 
“Looks like you’re a hit.
 
But then I knew you would be.”

“
Oui
,
mon
coeur
.
 
A great success.”

Travis didn’t know how much longer he could stand it.
 
The grinning goon looked her over as though she were one of the canapés.
 
Maybe he should just punch the guy and be done with it.

“Henri!”
 
A woman dripping with diamonds called from across the room.

“Ah, duty calls.
 
We will talk later,
chérie
.”
 
He kissed her on the cheek again then strolled away.

Travis couldn’t hold is irritation in any longer.
 
“You do remember we’re supposed to be a newly married couple,” he muttered softly.

A tray of champagne floated by, and she grabbed a glass then set about drinking it quickly.
 
“Henri knows we aren’t married,” she said between gulps.

“That doesn’t mean he has the right to paw you.”

She giggled, nearly choking on her champagne.

“How much of that stuff have you had?” he asked.

“Oooh, I don’t know.
 
A few I guess.”
 
She giggled again.
 

Growling, he removed the empty glass from her hand and stopped her from reaching for another one.

She leaned her bare shoulder against his chest and looked up at his face with an odd expression.
 
One he hadn’t ever seen before.
 

“You know something?
 
I think you’re absolutely adorable.”
 
She let out a breathy sigh.

Great.
 
Getting her crocked had not been a part of his plan.
 
What had her so uptight anyway?
 
Was she upset because ole’ Henri was across the room schmoozing with a group of beautiful women who screamed money?
 

He needed to get her out of there, back to their room, and into bed.
 
Separate beds, he thought wearily.
 

“I’m thrilled you think so,” he said.

“I don’t think so, I know so.”
 
She emphasized her statement with a soft pat against his chest.
 
Her eyes glanced down and studied the movements of her fingers as they slid up and down the edge of his lapel.
 
“I know a lot of other things, too.”

Tightening his grip around her waist, he looked for an opening in the crowd.
 
“You’re a real smart lady.”
 

He needed to find the least path of resistance without attracting a lot of attention.
 
A twittering laugh caught his ear, and he focused on the source.
 
Henri seemed to be making pretty good time with one of his admirers.
 
It would probably be best if he and Bobbi skipped the good-byes.
 

“Travis?”

He felt her turn into his arms and press her soft, warm body to his.
 
Gazing down at her upturned face, he realized she didn’t look quite as drunk as he’d first thought—if she was drunk at all.
 
What was going on?

“Thank you.”
 
She smiled.

He brushed a stray curl behind her ear.
 
She looked so sweet he had to fight the urge to kiss her.
 
“For what, bright eyes?”

“For being jealous.”
 

Her soft, sweet voice punched the heat up in the room.
 
He could feel the beads of sweat breaking out on his brow.
 
If he didn’t get them out of there soon, he could forget all about not attracting attention.
 

“And what makes you think I’m jealous?” he asked.

Her smile widened.
 
“You said Henri was pawing me.”

“He was.”
 
He cast a killing glare towards the man in question.
 

The tinkling sound of her laughter brought his attention back to the woman practically melting in his arms.

“What happened to those marvelous observation skills of yours, Agent Reid?” she asked, whispering his name.
 
“Can’t you see he acts that way with all the women he knows?”
 
She gestured with her head to the gloating, grinning artist across the room with a beautiful woman on each arm.
 

Travis smiled as the truth warmed his spirit and started his heart hammering in his chest.
 
She wasn’t interested in Henri, and he was a class A idiot.
 

“I guess I can only see you.”
 
He didn’t try to hide the hunger in his eyes, the need consuming his soul.

Flushing an enticing shade of pink as the room faded around them, her eyes glittered with
—
dare he think it
—
love?
 

He opened his mouth to tell her how he felt, when an abrupt slap on his back and the sound of Henri’s smooth, slick voice had him biting back the words.

She pulled out of his arms and took a small step back.
 
He didn’t let her get far before quickly snagging her hand.

“Come, my friends.
 
There are people I wish you to meet.”
 
Henri cast his familiar blinding smile with one hand on his shoulder and the other on Bobbi’s.
 

Travis was coming ever closer to punching his lights out.
 
It wouldn’t take long.
 
Only a second or two.
 
He wouldn’t even know what hit him.
 

Bobbi squeezed his hand and begged him with her eyes.
 
He hadn’t realized he projected his anger so clearly.
  

With a crooked grin, he slipped his hand from hers and watched her brow crease.
 
She was preparing to step in should he decide to do something foolish.
 
His little spitfire.
 
She really was something.

Instead of taking what would have been one of the most rewarding swings of his life, he placed his hand against the curve of her waist and pulled her in against his side.
 
She sucked in her breath.
 
He could feel her flesh rise beneath his fingertips.
 
That was all the encouragement he needed.