Snowbound With His Forbidden Innocent. Susan Stephens

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      She didn’t see Lucas again until everyone was seated for the banquet and she finally took her place beside him. ‘I was only joking about sitting down,’ she explained as a waiter settled a napkin on her lap with a flourish. ‘I wasn’t sure if you had someone in mind to take this place, and now I don’t want to leave an empty seat beside you.’

      ‘That wouldn’t look good,’ Luc agreed. ‘Is that the only reason you came to sit next to me?’ He gave her a long, sideways look.

      ‘I can’t think of any other reason,’ she said, though she knew she had to broach the subject of Lady Sarah’s leave of absence.

      ‘You impressed me tonight.’

      ‘You mean the team impressed you tonight,’ she prompted.

      ‘I mean you.’

      Luc’s tone was soft and husky and he held her gaze several beats too long. She took advantage of the moment to ask him, ‘Does that mean the next contract’s secure?’

      He frowned. ‘Is there something you’d like to tell me?’

      He’d already heard, she guessed. Lucas hadn’t climbed the greasy pole of success without doing his research. She guessed he’d brought up her CV to check on her rise through the company, and would know the latest news on Party Planners, including the fact that Lady Sarah was ill. If she knew anything at all about Lucas Da Silva, she was prepared to bet he was on the case. ‘Only that Lady Sarah is unwell and has asked me to run this function as well as the next for you. Do you have a problem with that?’

      ‘A problem?’ Luc dipped his chin to fix her with a questioning stare.

      ‘The team has turned itself inside out for you, and will happily do so again.’

      ‘And I will thank them,’ he said.

      ‘But?’

      ‘You want assurances here and now?’

      Before she could answer, a member of her team made a discreet gesture that would take Stacey away from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’

      ‘You’re not even going to stay long enough to test the food?’

      ‘I trust your chefs.’

      ‘That’s very good of you,’ Lucas commented dryly.

      ‘I trust you,’ she said, touching his arm to drive the point home.

      Immediately, she wished she hadn’t done that. It was as if she’d plugged her hand into an electric socket. Her fingers were actually tingling. What she should be asking herself was whether Lucas would trust her enough to let her run an event as important to his company as the annual escape to the mountains. To make matters worse, it now seemed their old connection was as strong as ever, and she couldn’t resist teasing him before leaving the table. ‘Would you like me to deliver the happy news to one of the placecard-swapping starlets that a seat has become available next to their host?’

       ‘You’ll do no such—!’

      Damn the woman! She’d gone! And with a smile on her mouth that promised she could still give as good as she got. This was like being back on the farm, where for every trick Stacey played on him he paid her back. His hackles were bristling. And his groin was in torment. He huffed a humourless laugh. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved the demon glint in her eyes, deserved Stacey.

      He was still mulling this over when a young woman he vaguely recognised from the polo circuit approached the empty seat next to him, and, with what she must have imagined was a winsome expression on her avaricious face, commented, ‘You look lonely.’

      ‘Do I?’ Standing as good manners demanded, he waited until she’d sat down and he’d introduced her to a handsome young diplomat in the next chair. ‘I was distracted,’ he explained, swiping a hand across his forehead. ‘And unfortunately, I’ve just been called away. Please forgive me.’ He summoned a waiter. ‘Champagne for my guests.’

      He left the table with relief. Whatever kind of spin he’d put on saving Stacey from the excesses playing on a loop in his mind had evaporated. They couldn’t leave things here. Confrontation between them was a given. Why try to avoid it? He knew when to pull back, didn’t he? Maybe not, he reflected as he crossed the dance floor in search of the one woman he would consider dancing with tonight. His primal self had roared to the surface of his outwardly civilised veneer, and it wouldn’t take much to tip that over into passion. Stacey had given him more than enough reason. He wouldn’t sleep until they’d had it out.