She'd like to toss him back out there for someone else to reel in. "Sorry, Alex. Not interested."
"I think with a little persuasion, you could be." He leaned in and ran his knuckles over her cheek. He reeked of wine, and it was only eight-thirty.
Okay, enough fun and games. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of being negotiated like a commodity when a deep voice spoke behind her.
"Hey, pal, that's my woman you have your hands on."
Alex's hand froze and he turned a frigid gaze just over Lucy's left shoulder. Lucy's pulse kicked up a few notches when a warm hand slipped around her waist, turning her around to face her date for the evening.
Okay, this bordered on the ridiculous. She'd spent her entire life around men wearing tuxedos, and never had one taken her breath away like Jake did. He was magnificent. The tux was perfectly tailored for him, the jacket cut tight across his broad shoulders, the pants tapering in to fit snugly against his lean waist. The starched, white shirt provided a sharp contrast against his tanned neck. Perfect. Simple yet elegant, like the wearer.
"You clean up well," she said with a tentative smile, her heart hammering against her chest.
"And you're gorgeous." His gaze traveled the length of her.
Before she could utter her thanks, he pulled her against his chest, swept one hand along her neck, and pressed his lips firmly against hers in a kiss that would have knocked her socks off, had she been wearing any.
All sense of time and place was lost as Jake's mouth moved against hers, teasing her lips with the barest of pressure. She slid her hands into his hair and leaned into him, delighted in the feel of his fingers flexing against her waist.
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His scent wafted over her. Not that chokingly expensive cologne that most men reeked of, but more like soap. Fresh, clean, and masculine in every sense of the word.
Her body fit his perfectly. She could stay in his arms forever, never needing another thing.
Oh, wow, she really liked kissing him.
A cough brought her back to reality. Jake pulled his lips from hers, his eyes dark, his breathing as labored as her own. "Sorry I'm late," he said with the hint of a smile.
Late? Late for what? It took her a few seconds to gather her bearings. Then Alex coughed again.
"It's all right," she replied in a voice too throaty to be her own. "You're worth waiting for."
"Who's your friend?" Jake's eyes narrowed.
Reluctantly, she turned to face Alex. "Jake Dalton, this is Alexander Sheldon."
Alex cocked a pale brow and put on his best patrician air as he briefly shook Jake's hand. "Dalton."
"Sheldon," Jake mimicked, looking none too pleased himself by the introduction.
"Any relation to the Dalton's of New Hampshire?" Alex asked.
"Not that I'm aware of. My family's from the west coast."
"Ah, I see." Alex tapped an index finger against his pursed lips. "New money, then."
Jake laughed. "Any money I make is new to me."
She had to separate these two before an explosion occurred. She smiled sweetly at Jake. "I'm starving. Let's go inside and find our seats."
Jake held out his arm and Lucy slipped hers through. "Later, Sheldon," he said.
"I'll be counting on it," she heard Alex reply before she dragged Jake into the ballroom.
Jake couldn't hide his proud smile as they walked through the double doors into the ballroom. He never lost the thrill of seeing the finished product of what he'd started. Ten years ago he'd worked on this hotel. He remembered the intricate sloping roof that caused him and his crew fits.
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"Why are you smiling?" Lucy asked.
"Just remembering the construction. I helped build this hotel."
Her eyes widened. "You did? It's a marvelous piece of architecture."
"It was a pain in the butt to weld the steel together."
"Really?"
"Yeah. What the architects put on paper and the ease with which it transfers to steel erection are often like oil and water."
"I hadn't thought about that. But it truly is lovely, Jake. You should be proud to have been a part of it."
He was. Everything that carried part of his work he looked on with pride. He'd worked damn hard to get where he was, to learn what he'd learned through the years.
Jake allowed Lucy to lead him through a throng of people, most of whom she knew and waved at or stopped to greet. Which was fine with him since it gave him the chance to ogle her without her knowing.
Damn, she looked incredible. And way out of his league in the minors versus majors way. The black velvet dress dipped dangerously off her shoulders. Her full breasts swelled over the top of a low cut V-shape in the top, and every time she inhaled they threatened to spill over. He wondered how long it would take him to whip off his tux jacket and throw it over her in case her breasts accidentally fell out the top of the gown.
She wore no jewelry other than little pearls in her ears. But she didn't need any. The dress and the body in it were enough.
They reached a table at the front of the room, and Lucy directed him to his assigned seat next to her. It didn't take long for her father to come bearing down on them.
"What is he doing here?" he whispered.
Lucy heaved a breath. Jake tried to keep one eye on her father and the other on her breasts.
"Father, we're in public and if you make a scene you will look ridiculous. Smile and pretend to be polite."
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Raymond opened his mouth to speak, glared at his daughter, then stiffly inclined his head toward Jake. "Mr. Dalton."
"Mr. Fairchild." No way would Jake do anything to embarrass Lucy tonight. He smiled politely.
They had a relatively quiet and peaceful dinner, despite the fact Raymond invited Alex Sheldon to sit at their table. On the other side of Lucy, of course. Jake did his best to ignore the man, who seemed more focused on getting Lucy's attention. Fortunately, Lucy's attention stayed on Jake.
A fact he didn't mind one bit. They made small talk and she asked him about his work, he asked about hers, but they never got into any serious discussion since both Raymond and Alex eavesdropped on every word they spoke.
"So, you're in construction." Alex said the word as if Jake sifted through people's trash for a living.
"Jake helped build this hotel," Lucy said.
Jake noticed the way her eyes sparkled with pride. He liked that.
"Tell me," Alex said, lifting yet another glass of wine to his lips. "Which style of Victorian homes so indicative of San Francisco architecture are your favorite? I tend to prefer the Italianate."
Before Jake could respond, Lucy stood. "Let's dance," she said, holding out her hand.
Despite his wanting to stuff Alex Sheldon's superior tongue down his own throat, he nodded. How could he resist an offer of a dance with Lucy? They stepped onto the dance floor, the orchestra playing soft strains of an old melody that Jake couldn't quite place.
She glided into his arms, her hip resting against his thigh. His palm splayed over the bare skin of her back. Silken soft skin, and that smell of summer.
"You really can dance." Lucy lifted her head and met his gaze, surprise showing in her eyes.
"Thought I could only do the hoe down, did you? I didn't get to show you my best stuff the other night at the bar."
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She laughed, and he found that he loved the sound. Deep and throaty, as if she could really belt out a good bit of giggling if she chose.
The music barely registering in his mind, he focused on Lucy's cheek against his jaw, her full skirt billowing around his legs, the perfect feel of her in his arms. He tightened his hold on her and whirled her a few turns around the
dance floor.
"I'm sorry about my father and Alex."
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself. Besides, isn't that why I'm here?"
She tilted her head. "I suppose so."
He'd give a million dollars just to kiss her neck. Probably not a good idea to do that here.
"Still, it irritates me when they act so condescending and disapproving."
He slid his hand along the soft skin between her shoulder blades, enjoying her quick intake of breath. "I told you. Don't worry about me. I can handle whatever they throw my way."
She pulled in her lower lip and worried it with her teeth. His gaze was riveted on the short glimpse of her pink tongue, still tasting their kiss on his lips. What he wouldn't give to take a little nibble of that lip himself.
Unfortunately, the music ended. Lucy's face was flushed, her cheeks a rosy pink.
"You really can dance."
He smiled. "Had to take lame dancing lessons at school. I have a fairly good memory." He'd hated those classes when he was an early teen. Now he was grateful he'd had them.
They stood in the middle of the dance floor, neither of them moving. If he were a betting man, he'd lay a wager that Lucy Fairchild wanted another kiss.
Right here, in the middle of the dance floor, in front of all these rich socialites.
Wouldn't that cause a scandal? Jake thought it would be more than worth it to taste her sweet lips again.
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"Please, excuse me for a moment." Her near breathless whisper told him she'd been thinking the same thing.
As soon as Lucy took off for the ladies room, Alex and Raymond approached him.
Jake smiled behind his drink. They'd waited for the perfect opening like a couple of circling sharks scoping out prey. Now that they had him alone, he expected the inquisition. An inquisition he more than welcomed.
The night was about to get even more interesting.
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Chapter Four
Lucy stood alone in the makeup area of the ladies room, trying to catch her breath.
She put her hand over her heart, as if the gesture could calm the incessant pounding going on in there.
Her heart was palpitating, she was flushed and sweaty. If she didn't know better she would swear she was having a heart attack.
But it wasn't a heart attack. She was turned on.
Between Jake's kiss and the dance they'd just finished, she was a mix of pent up emotion. He made her feel something. But what was it? Pure feminine ecstasy at having an attractive man showing interest in her, yes, but more than that. Plenty of good looking men had pursued her, but they'd never captured her interest as much as Jake had.
Why him? They came from completely opposite ends of the social spectrum, and had nothing in common. And yet she felt a connection to him she'd never felt with another man.
Maybe it was physical. That short but oh-so-amazing kiss had sure made a physical impact on her. And dancing in his arms seemed a prelude to something more sensual, another type of dance, a different kind of rhythm. Visions she couldn't quite kick out of her head had haunted her during that dance. Every time he slid his hand over the bare skin of her back, or lightly flexed his fingers over hers, her mind flew to the various ways she'd want him to touch her.
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None of this was good. They were playing a game, a charade. Their relationship was nothing more than a showcase to convince her father to back off. Guilt tugged at her middle, clenching like a fist. She was using Jake, and it wasn't fair.
But then again, this had been Jake's idea, and if she gained some freedom from her father's incessant pressure to marry, why not?
But what if she wanted more?
Did he want more?
As she stepped back into the ballroom, she scanned the bar for Jake. Her heart leaped to her throat when she found him surrounded by both her father and Alex. Lifting her skirts, she made quick work of catching up to them, hoping she could run interference before the two of them embarrassed Jake.
She arrived just in time to hear them arguing architecture. Obviously Jake knew building and construction, but she feared he was out of his league with an architectural discussion.
"You have to admit, the vertical concept and false fronts of the Italianates are truly a work of art," Alex said.
Raymond nodded smugly. "I agree. But the gingerbread carving strategy of the Eastlake style is really my favorite."
Jake hadn't uttered a word since she'd returned. He inclined his head in her direction, a hint of a smirk on his face, but other than that seemed content to let her father and Alex carry on.
Maybe he felt uncomfortable chiming in.
"Gentlemen," she said, hoping to steer the conversation away from grilling Jake,
"I'm sure you'll all agree the fundraiser tonight has been wildly successful."
They all looked at her, nodded politely, then resumed their discussion as if she wasn't even there.
"The structure is astounding," Alex said. "Dalton, do you have any idea what type of wood was used to construct the early Victorians?"
Lucy rolled her eyes. What was this, a pop quiz?
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"Some, I assume, were built with a prefabricated framework," Jake said.
"However--"
"Really, gentlemen, I think what Jake's trying to say is--"
Her father waved his hand, silencing her interruption. "I believe you're mistaken, young man. Now, I understand someone like you could not possibly be aware of the history and architecture of our fine city."
Lucy was desperate to get Jake out of the line of fire. She stepped over to his side and tugged at his coat. "Would you like to dance?" she offered, giving him a visual signal that hopefully he'd see as rescue.
"Actually, what I was saying is entirely accurate." Jake stayed focused on her father, ignoring her completely.
"What do you mean?" Raymond asked.
Oh dear. Now he'd stepped in it. "I'm sure Jake was just making polite conversation.
Really, Father, this inquisition is intolerable. Jake, let's go."
As if he hadn't heard her, Jake continued. "Some of these homes were built from prefabricated framework or plans that could be sent for in the mail, and others were planned and designed by architects. But most were made from redwood, which was available in abundance near the coast."
"True," Raymond stuttered. "But as far as the differing styles--"
Jake went on as if her father hadn't spoken. "While I can agree on you and Sheldon favoring the Italianate and Eastlake styles of Victorians, my favorite is the Queen Anne."
Lucy's jaw dropped.
"The Queen Anne's most distinguished feature is its steep gabled roof, a rounded turret corner tower, and a front porch usually inside the main structural frame. Some homes typically include a piece of each of the three mentioned styles, in which case they are referred to as San Francisco style. I tend to prefer the blended architecture because it showcases the finest aspects of all three."
Lucy was stunned. She'd finally stopped trying to figure out a way to extricate Jake, only to realize he was holding his own fabulously. The man knew architecture.
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Her father and Alex tried a new tact. Politics. Followed by religion. And as they went on, attacking Jake's intelligence with difficult questions on global warfare, economics, finance, and the stock market, Jake answered every single one of them correctly.
They barraged him with questions, hoping to trip him up, to make him feel stupid.
And he'd countered every single one of them with more knowledge about the subjects than she could ever hope to amass. In fact, he'd even put a few questions
to them that neither her father nor Alex could answer.
With a sigh of relief, she relaxed. She'd underestimated Jake Dalton.
It didn't take long for Alex and her father to figure out they weren't going to be able to embarrass Jake, and they finally gave up in disgust, moving off to mingle with the politicians in attendance.
Lucy turned to Jake, about to tell him how impressed she was with his knowledge.
But she was shocked at the fierce glare on his face. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was angry. Very angry.
At her. Without a word, he turned and headed to the door.
Lucy hurried after him, catching up to him near the front door of the hotel.
"Jake, wait!" She grasped his sleeve and fought to catch her breath.
He stopped, turned to her.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going home, Lucy."
"Why?"
He didn't say anything for a minute. Then, "Why did you bother to bring me here tonight?"
"I don't understand."
"Did you think I was stupid?"
"No, no of course not." Frantically she tried to recall anything she'd said that he could have misinterpreted.
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"If you thought I was so moronic that I couldn't enter into a simple discussion with your father and that idiot he parades around as your fiance, then you shouldn't have asked me here."
Now she understood, guilt stabbing at her. "I didn't know how much you knew about the subject. Honestly, I was trying to spare you some embarrassment."
"I expected your father to treat me like I was stupid. I didn't expect you to feel the same way. I'm finished." He turned on his heel and walked through the doors.
Stunned, Lucy could only stare after Jake's retreating form, misery forming a knot in her stomach. What had she done?
He wasn't stupid. She was. She fled to the ladies room and flopped onto a chair, fighting back tears.
Jake had offered to help her out, and she had insulted him. Underestimated his intelligence in a huge way. He was right. She had thought he wouldn't be able to hold his own in a conversation with Alex and her father, and he'd proved her, and them, wrong.
He had a sharp wit and intelligence she hadn't expected.
And why hadn't she expected it? Because she had prejudged him based on his occupation. He was a construction worker, therefore he couldn't be as smart as lawyers, right? Blue jeans couldn't possibly hold their own against designer suits.