Prince Of The City. Nikki Benjamin

glances with her sons, Bill shook hands again with each of them, then opened the door and gestured with a stately flourish.

      “Eloise…”

      Feeling just the slightest bit at a disadvantage, she lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his gaze and attempted a haughty smile as she stepped into the hallway.

      “Thank you, Bill.”

      She couldn’t think how she had expected the evening to unfold, but she was fairly certain she had already lost most, if not all control of the situation, and they weren’t even out of her apartment building yet. She also knew she should be trying to eliminate what seemed like a serious disadvantage on her part. But oddly enough, she couldn’t seem to get motivated in that particular direction.

      Not when Bill took her arm and escorted her onto the elevator. Not as they rode down to the lobby in silence, his presence beside her comfortingly familiar. Not when the doorman greeted them politely, and not when the driver did likewise as he opened the door of the long, black limousine for them.

      Only as Bill settled close to her on the richly upholstered leather seat and the door closed with a solid thunk, sealing them into luxurious privacy did her heartbeat quicken. The warning bells that should have been ringing all along finally went off in her head, but it was too late—much, much too late. They were alone together, shut off from the world, if only momentarily. And Mayor Harper—Bill Harper—her former friend and lover, and now the perpetrator of the possible undoing of all she’d worked so hard to achieve the past twelve years, was reaching out, taking her small, cold hand and folding it into his much larger, warmer one.

      “I haven’t told you yet how good it is to see you again, have I, Eloise? And it is good to see you, finally face-to-face. Not just good, great, really, really great…” he said in the same soft, low, utterly sexy voice that still sometimes haunted her dreams.

      She knew she should offer him a snappy comeback, curt words cut with just the right amount of irony. Instead she clung to his hand unabashedly, unable to stop herself from allowing her truest, deepest feelings to be revealed. She had loved Bill Harper once, and that love had never completely died. To pretend that it had, no matter how important the reason, was something she was simply too honest to do.

      “It’s good to see you again, too, Bill,” she said at last. “Really, really good…”

      Chapter Two

      Until the moment Eloise Vale looked up at him in the limousine and admitted she was glad to see him again, Bill Harper had been gliding uncomfortably on the edge of uncertainty.

      Seventeen years had passed since she’d turned down his proposal of marriage. He hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she’d retained any but the most pragmatic feelings for him during the time they’d spent living their separate lives. And her outspoken, unabashedly negative opinion of his proposed cuts to city funding had made it all too possible that her behavior toward him might be downright hostile.

      Bill couldn’t say for sure exactly what had motivated him to ask Eloise to accompany him to the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest. In fact, he had debated for weeks whether or not to do it.

      But some force deep inside him had warned with ever-increasing urgency that renewing his old acquaintance with Eloise—his beloved Eloise—was fast becoming a now-or-never proposition.

      He hadn’t wanted her to continue thinking of him as an enemy, as she would have so easily been able to do at a distance. At the very least, he had wanted to find some way for her to be able to consider him a friend.

      Though, in all honesty, he wanted more than friendship from her, so much more. And he had known, intuitively, that if he expected to have any chance of winning back her affection, he had to act without further delay, or live to regret it the rest of his life.

      He had finally issued his invitation—not by telephone but by handwritten note—fully anticipating that Eloise would politely refuse. Instead, she had accepted via a graciously worded, handwritten note of her own.

      Bill had reread that note daily during the two weeks since he’d received it—two very long weeks when he had also contemplated every possible reason why she might decide to bow out at the last minute. She hadn’t, of course. And, in fact, he should have known all along that she wouldn’t.

      Eloise Vale had always been as good as her word, something Bill knew well from firsthand experience. She had honored her promise to marry Walter Vale seventeen years ago, hadn’t she? And though her decision had been a painful one for him to bear, Bill had admired her loyalty then as he did now, even knowing that tonight she was only there with him out of dedication to Manhattan Multiples.

      He had been fully aware, as certain members of his staff had taken great pains to point out, that she could, and most likely would, use her attendance at the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest to the advantage of her non-profit organization. But as he sat beside Eloise on the limousine’s plush leather seat, breathing in the light, fresh scent of her perfume, he saw the warmth in her pale-gray eyes as she met his gaze, and he knew that she really was happy to see him again. As happy as he was to see her, though she hadn’t sounded quite convinced as she’d said the words.

      She was much too forthright to dissemble. And although her behavior toward him since his arrival at her apartment had been somewhat reserved, he had most certainly detected an underlying cordiality in her demeanor. He had seen the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes, the same anticipation he had felt as they’d met each other’s gaze for the first time in too many years. And he had known that it had nothing to do with causes to be won.

      The source of Eloise’s inner excitement was much more personal, and thus much more heartening than Bill had dared to hope.

      “May I say that you look lovely tonight?” he asked.

      Finally feeling sure of himself and the rightness of his decision to renew his personal acquaintance with her again, Bill determined to take full advantage of the short, very private ride to the hotel where the ball was being held. He wanted to set aside, as much as he possibly could, all thoughts of the current conflict between them, and he wanted Eloise to do the same.

      Inconceivable as he knew it would likely prove to be under the circumstances, he wanted them to be two ordinary people, a man and a woman, enjoying each other’s company as they got to know each other again. And he wanted to believe Eloise, too, had felt a jolt of electric attraction similar to the one he’d experienced when he’d helped her into the black silk coat that complemented her dress so well.

      “Only if you mean it,” she replied with a wry smile, her tone not the least bit coy.

      “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

      “Thank you.” She looked down a moment, seeming shy all of a sudden, then glanced at him again, still smiling, her voice teasing as she added, “You look awfully nice yourself, Mr. Mayor. Very elegant, not to mention quite distinguished…”

      “I appreciate the compliment, Eloise, but you don’t have to be so formal,” he admonished gently, unwilling to allow her to erect even that small barrier between them.

      “Actually, I think I should, all things considered.” Though she still smiled up at him, she now did so with a slight, seemingly defensive tip of her chin. “And you’ve more than earned the title,” she added. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy it.”

      “While I can?”

      “Your words, not mine.”

      Eloise’s eyes flashed with a teasing gleam that brought back such a rush of memories Bill’s breath caught in his throat. He had forgotten what an excellent sparring partner she could be—bright and quick and full of humor. And remembering, he recalled, as well, that it had often been necessary to kiss her senseless in order to put an end to their verbal battles.

      Much as he liked the idea, he didn’t dare do that now, though. He could, however, attempt to change the subject.

      “Meant