Once Upon A Kiss.... Оливия Гейтс

laughed. “I can’t believe how much stuff is in that one attic. It could take a lifetime to go through it.” She glanced at the driver. Maybe it wasn’t wise to reveal their treasure trove to a total stranger.

      “That’s good. It will keep Mom safely in Dog Harbor longer.” His wry smile sent a flash of warmth to her heart. He settled his broad hand on the soft seat and for a second she imagined it resting on her thigh, only inches away, hidden beneath the dress’s layer of silk.

      “It’s downright strange how well that dress fits you. Almost like it was made for you.”

      “Weird, huh? The original owner would have worn all kinds of undergarments to get it this shape. I just have a narrow waist.” She shrugged. “It seems wrong to wear something that’s really an antique. It must ruin the fabric. But Vicki kept saying that clothes are for wearing, not storing in boxes. And she is an antiques dealer so I suppose she knows what she’s talking about.” At least she wasn’t trying to steal them and sell them on eBay.

      “I agree. And maybe it was made for you, if the unseen powers of the universe that my mother’s grown so fond of are really at work.” His dark gaze sent a shiver of strange emotion though her. Did those same mysterious forces throw them into each others’ arms? Maybe they were meant to be together and Vicki was a cleverly disguised fairy godmother who’d conjured her into this finery so she could go to the ball with her prince.

      Which meant this Bentley might turn into a pumpkin at midnight.

      “What are you laughing at?”

      “I don’t know. Trying to dissolve the tension.” She snuck a glance at the driver, wondering if he was a rat transformed into a man by the wave of a magic wand. She didn’t want him to know she wasn’t supposed to be here. For all he knew, she was some heiress, out on a date with wealthy bachelor Sinclair Drummond.

      How was he going to introduce her to people? This is Annie Sullivan, my housekeeper probably wouldn’t go over too well. This is my old friend Annie? Let me introduce you to the love of my life? Another stray giggle bubbled in her chest.

      Being so close to him made her giddy. Her skirt poufed out until it was resting on the leg of his black pants, caressing his thigh. Her fingers longed to do the same. He looked so relaxed and at ease. Maybe he was happy to be here with her? Maybe he’d secretly orchestrated the whole thing, with Vicki as his accomplice, so he could take her to the ball as his date without alarming his still-weak mom?

      One look at his somber face in profile, staring out the window, purged that thought from her mind. He’d probably rather be anywhere than here, with her. He hadn’t even responded to her comment about dissolving tension, perhaps preferring a sturdy barrier of angst between them to easy intimacy. She had to stay focused on getting through this evening with a minimum of humiliation and hurt, and that meant keeping her emotions firmly under wraps.

      They arrived at the beachfront mansion in less than ten minutes, and the Bentley pulled into the circular driveway in a line of cars depositing their occupants in front of a large stone house. Artfully placed lighting lit up the night and sparkled off the elegant gowns and pearly smiles of the glamorous people around them. The driver helped Annie out of the car and she thanked him.

      Sinclair rounded the car and took her arm in his. The increased closeness made her feel panicky. What if she couldn’t resist the urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him? Experience had already proven she could go completely mad in his presence.

      “Don’t be nervous. They’re all just human under the crazy outfits.” Sinclair’s rough whisper in her ear startled her, then made her chuckle. How sweet of him to try to relax her.

      “I may well have the craziest outfit here.” Her big, pale dress stood out amongst a lot of sleek dark gowns.

      Sinclair stopped and looked at her for a moment as if contemplating whether this was true. More cars pulled in and guests swirled around them. “You’re the most stunning woman here, and you look unbelievably beautiful in that dress.”

      The murmur of conversations and the purr of expensive engines faded into silence as his words took over her brain. Had he really said that, or had she imagined it? His dark eyes rested on hers for a second longer, stealing the last of her breath. For a second she thought she might fall down unconscious.

      “Sinclair, darling!” Reality sucked her back into its jaws as a very tall blonde woman threw her arms around Sinclair. They bumped into Annie, almost knocking her to the ground. “And my husband was worried you wouldn’t come. I knew you’d grace us with your austere and magnificent presence.” She kissed him on both cheeks. Annie simply stared.

      “And who is this damsel on your arm this evening?” The blonde peered at Annie with large, blue eyes.

      “I’m pleased to be escorting the lovely Annie Sullivan.”

      “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Sullivan.” The hostess shook her hand firmly. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

      Annie hesitated. She’d likely served this woman finger sandwiches or taken her coat for hanging. But she couldn’t tell. These very rich, emaciated blonde women all looked alike after a while. “Perhaps.”

      “Do head around to the tent and enjoy some drinks. Henry’s madcap festivities will be starting soon but we need everyone a little tipsy first.”

      “Happy anniversary, Jessica.” Sinclair smiled. Then he took Annie’s arm again and led her along a path lit with glowing lanterns toward the rear of the house. Strains of music floated on the air, mingling with the tinkle of polite laughter. “She’s an old friend of my mom’s,” Sinclair murmured, once they were out of earshot.

      “Thanks for not introducing me as your housekeeper. Though I don’t know why that would be embarrassing, since it is my job after all.”

      “You’re not here as my housekeeper. You’re here as my date.” He gave her a stern look. She wasn’t sure whether to take it seriously. Was this a date with the Annie who’d writhed on the spare bed with him, or the one who was under orders to pretend it had never happened? His arm linked with hers felt proprietary, like he was taking charge of the situation, which was fine with her. She never felt Sinclair would try to take advantage of her.

      What a shame.

      A waiter swept toward them with a tray of champagne glasses. Sinclair took one and handed it to her. The glass was cold against her hand, in sharp contrast to her hot skin. People swirled around them on the large terrace. Hanging lanterns illuminated the night enough for them to make each other out, but the garden beyond was cloaked in velvety darkness. The unknown. A band, tucked away somewhere, launched into a swingy jazz number that made the very air throb with anticipation.

      She took the tiniest sip of her champagne, and the bubbles tickled her tongue. Sinclair took a manlier drink from his glass. Muted light played across his hard features. His eyes glittered, dark and unreadable, as they rested on her face.

      “I’ve never seen a woman look more radiant, Annie.” He spoke plainly, with no hint of joking or exaggeration.

      Her bodice suddenly felt tight as her chest swelled. “I don’t think I’ve seen a man look more handsome.” She tried to laugh off his comment with an offhand one of her own.

      But Sinclair didn’t even seem to notice what she said. He frowned. “Why do you hide your beauty?”

      “I don’t hide anything. You see me every day, or at least when you’re out at the house. I’m hardly wearing a mask. That’s the real me. This is the one that Vicki decorated for the party.”

      He took a sip of his champagne. “You’re right, of course. And in fact, I think you’re even more beautiful when you’re not dressed up like a visiting princess.” His words sank in and her breath stuck in her throat. “It’s refreshing to see someone who isn’t afraid to be her natural self and not try to enhance something that’s already lovely.”

      She