Gracie didn't notice John's withdrawal as they made their way to the top floor of the Hyatt Regency, where John's bank was wining and dining all their biggest clients and a few others they hoped to recruit very soon. Gracie was more occupied by the Dallas skyline, the room full of people that she had no interest in schmoozing and the soreness between her legs—Not necessarily in that order.
She'd dressed in a very sedate cocktail suit that came just below her knees. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose chignon and her grandmother's pearl earrings were at her ears. She looked like a successful attorney, not a woman who less than two hours before had brought her lover to orgasm by telling him about her domination fantasy. And she definitely didn't look like a woman who wasn't wearing any underwear.
John seemed nervous, more so than usual for a function like this, so she casually put her arm around his waist as a way to offer support. She hadn't realized how important this evening was to him, and she probably should have been a little more sensitive earlier. What she wasn't expecting was John to show revulsion at her touch. The look on his face would have been comical if it hadn't been directed at her and in front of a group of people.
"I'm sorry, Gracie," he stammered out. "You took me by surprise."
The excuse must have even sounded lame to him, because he wouldn't meet her eyes after he'd told the lie. He took a step away from her and Gracie flushed in embarrassment.
"I'd like to introduce everyone to Gracie McGuire. She's a partner at Decker, Deets and McGuire and one of SureTrust Bank's most valued clients."
Gracie stood rooted to the floor, her stomach in knots and sweat puddling at the base of her spine. Something was wrong. She and John had been dating for three months, and he'd always taken every opportunity to show her off as his own private possession, but now for some reason she was just his client. There was only one thing that could have happened to make John's feelings change in such a short amount of time. He'd liked the idea of her fantasy in the heat of passion, but now when he had to look at her over canapés he couldn't stand the sight of her. He was ashamed.
Gracie gave John a look of boredom, as if he were no more than dirt under her shoe, and felt satisfaction at his flinch. She'd just learn to keep her mouth shut from now on. Bedroom secrets were meant to stay secrets. Lesson learned.
Gracie's pale skin showed polite indifference as she made the round of introductions.
"This is Peter Sterling, the CEO at the Nightingale Corporation," John droned. "SureTrust is hoping to get his business very soon."
"We'll see, John, old buddy," Peter said with a conspirator's laugh and a wink at Gracie.
Gracie had to refrain from rolling her eyes. The good old boys' club never changed. Peter was a middle-aged executive with silver at his temples and capped teeth. He probably cheated on his wife with anything in a skirt and smoked Cuban cigars at his expensive country club. Peter was boring. John could have Peter with her blessing. Gracie was through with men like them.
She was much more interested in the tall, dark man that stood to Peter's left. His hair was as black as midnight and his eyes as blue as sapphire. He didn't have the face of a pampered businessman or the body of someone who'd spent too many hours behind a desk. His suit was expensive and his cologne a seduction. He made the other men in the room pale in comparison, and the other women in the room overflow with envy that he wasn't theirs.
This strange man had witnessed Gracie's humiliation at John's words, but he hadn't looked on in speculation and titillation as the other guests had. He'd looked furious on her behalf.
Gracie looked down at her watch and wondered how much longer she needed to stay at this thing now that she'd decided John was a horse's ass. She had briefs to read, a pair of comfortable slippers to put on and a nice bottle of wine waiting at her apartment. She didn't have any personal possessions at John's, so she wouldn't have to go through any awkward scenes when she told him she was through.
She sighed in defeat. It wasn't even nine o'clock. She needed to stay at least another hour for her own business purposes. The least she could do was enjoy the free food and the endless champagne.
The stranger caught Gracie's sigh of impatience, and his eyes laughed at her predicament. Gracie and the stranger both remained silent as Peter and John postured back and forth, their gazes never leaving each other. There was something very different about this silent man. Something dangerous. Something secretive. And she was drawn to him. She shivered as his eyes seemed to undress her and thoughts of what he could do to her with those sensuously full lips invaded her mind.
John interrupted her thoughts when he remembered that she and the others standing around were still important clients. "I beg you pardon, Gracie, gentlemen. Peter and I go back a ways. I think you know everyone else, Gracie, except for Peter's friend there. And I hate to admit that I haven't caught his name yet. Peter didn't tell me he was bringing a guest," John said. The admonition was there at Peter's oversight, but it was skillfully done.
"He's not my guest, John," Peter said. "We had just started talking when you and Gracie came up. I haven't caught his name either."
John's smile was saccharine as he extended his hand to the stranger, everyone's attention focused on the man who had intruded John's special event. "John Johnson," he said. "President of SureTrust National Bank."
The stranger looked at John's outstretched hand with disinterest but took it in his grip anyway. "Mitchell Caldwell," the stranger said.
Mitchell Caldwell didn't have to tell anyone his position of importance. Everyone already knew who Mitchell Caldwell was, including Gracie. The murmurs that surrounded them assured that the word had traveled fast. Gracie thought John might pass out with the glorious news. It was a coup in his corner to be sure. The majority stockholder of the Caldwell Corporation, a billion dollar financial institution, was standing in the midst of peons.
