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She rewarded him with another of her wry smiles.
“I could be so lucky.”
“Well, you have to roll the dice first,” he advised. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, keeping a hold on his hand as he helped her out of the limousine amid the sudden click and flash of cameras aimed at them from all directions.
So much for private time, Bill thought as he paused on the sidewalk outside the hotel, put an arm around Eloise’s shoulders, drew her close to his side and smiled graciously for the hoard of hardworking photographers. Standing next to him, Eloise seemed equally at ease in the limelight, her own smile dazzling, subtly reminding him that she was a powerful force in her own right—one with which he would eventually have to reckon.
Not tonight, though, he determined. Tonight he planned to do everything in his substantial power to see that Eloise Vale had the time of her life as his very special guest at this very special party held in his honor.
Eloise couldn’t remember ever having quite as much fun at a social engagement as she had at the Mayor’s Ball that night. She had attended many, many similar high-society events in the past with much higher expectations of enjoyment, only to be sadly disappointed. And since she had agreed to accompany Bill Harper to the Mayor’s Ball solely as a means of promoting her cause—the continuation of city funding for nonprofit organizations including her own Manhattan Multiples—she had known better than to also count on having a good time.
As she had on every other occasion when she’d felt duty-bound to attend a particular event, she had wanted only to be able to get through the ordeal with as much grace and charm as she could muster. But from the moment she had opened her apartment door to Mayor Harper, a whole new world filled with surprising possibilities seemed to open up for her, as well—not only for the evening ahead, but for the very near future, too.
He was so relaxed in her presence, and they had so many shared memories—truly fond memories—that her attempts to maintain some semblance of formality between them seemed more and more ludicrous as the night wore on. And the longer she was with Bill Harper, the harder it was for her to think of him as an adversary, until finally, reluctantly, she gave up on it altogether.
He gave every appearance of being genuinely proud to have her by his side, pausing outside the hotel, and again inside the grand ballroom, to allow the photographers on hand to duly record their presence there together. Granted, he would benefit from the exposure, but so would she. Nor was she cynical enough to assume his high spirits were due only, or even mainly, to any possible gain in political advantage he might make at her expense. Public opinion could be swayed just as easily in the direction of her cause, as he must surely know.
Once swept up in the glamour and excitement of the Mayor’s Ball, Eloise wasn’t able to allow serious thoughts to distract her for very long. Even though saving city funding for Manhattan Multiples remained a very real problem that nagged at the back of her mind throughout the evening, she was too busy enjoying Bill’s attentive company to focus on it as completely as she probably should have. And while that could have been exactly what Bill intended, he seemed to be having just as much fun as she was, something even he couldn’t fake for very long.
After seeing to it that her black silk coat was safely stowed away, he snagged a glass of champagne for each of them off a passing waiter’s tray. Then he took her on a tour of the ballroom, filled to near capacity with the city’s most important men and women, movers and shakers one and all, dressed in their finest and eager to make their presence as well as their various positions known to the mayor. Bill greeted them all with equal affability, also making sure to introduce Eloise.
His very dear friend, he said over and over again, smiling at her with such obvious warmth that he not only made her heart glow, but also made her believe it was true.
Some people eyed them with obvious surprise while others seemed somewhat dismayed. But most responded to them with a nonchalance that put her even more at ease.
It was possible, after all, for two people with very differing opinions to be friends. And though not widely known among their contemporaries, she and Bill had had a close personal relationship long before their conflict over city funding had arisen.
Having completed his meet-and-greet duties, Bill lured Eloise to the buffet table and piled a white china plate high with tantalizing tidbits for them to share. Then he led her off to a secluded alcove where a table for two—complete with white linen tablecloth and a centerpiece of pale pink roses—had been discreetly tucked away, reserved just for them, obviously at his special request.
“This is lovely,” Eloise said as he seated her in one of the fabric-draped chairs. “But how did you manage it?”
“Well, I am the mayor,” he reminded her—as he seemed to enjoy doing—his tone teasing.
“And the center of attention at your very own ball, as well you should be. I didn’t think hiding out in a private nook was allowed at an affair of this magnitude, though.”
Unselfconsciously, Eloise helped herself to a miniature quiche that proved to be simply delicious.
“Even the mayor of New York City needs an occasional respite. Or maybe I should say especially the mayor.” Bill, too, helped himself to one of the morsels he had selected from the buffet. “I imagine you’ve often felt the same way, sponsoring as many fund-raising events as you do.”
“There are a lot of times when I’d much rather be home alone, wearing my baggiest sweats, curled up on the sofa with a good book and a cup of tea,” she admitted. “But smiling and shaking hands and making small talk with strangers at yet another function for yet another good cause has become more and more of a necessity lately.”
“I hope tonight isn’t one of those times you’d rather be home,” he said, his concern for her feelings evident.
“No, not tonight,” she replied, not only unable, but also unwilling to hide her true feelings from him. “Tonight, much to my surprise, I’m actually having a very good time.”
“You know, so am I,” Bill admitted, sounding just the slightest bit surprised himself. Then he added with a wicked grin, “I can’t remember when that happened last. Must be the company we’re keeping, huh?”
“Must be,” Eloise agreed, smiling as well, as she snitched the last appetizer from the plate on the table.
“Have you had enough to eat or would you like me to make another foray to the buffet table?”
“Enough for now, although you could probably tempt me with something decadently rich and sweet from the dessert table a little later.”
“How about a dance then?” Bill suggested as the orchestra began playing a soft, sexy ballad that had always been one of her favorites.
“A dance would be nice,” Eloise agreed, remembering a long-ago night when they had held each other close, swaying to a similarly slow rhythm in a smoky club somewhere in Greenwich Village—a world away from the ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria.
“It’s been a while,” he said quietly, seeming to recall, as well, their last dance together as he stood to help her from her chair.
“I’ve been told dancing is like riding a bike,” she quipped as he took her hand, wanting to recapture the lighthearted mood they’d been sharing. “Once you learn, you never forget.”
“There are a lot of things I’ve never forgotten, Eloise,” Bill murmured as they reached the dance floor and he took her in his arms. “Holding you like this is definitely at the top of the list.”
Her heart fluttering, Eloise leaned against Bill wordlessly as he guided her into a simple box step. She had never forgotten completely the feel of his arms around her, either, even though there had been times when she had tried desperately to do so.
And now, as his long, lean, masculine frame seemed to curve protectively around her shorter, slighter self, the heat of his body melding with hers, she breathed in the fresh, clean scent of his aftershave and experienced a sense of peace and happiness she hadn’t known she’d been missing.
It felt so good, so right, to be held in Bill Harper’s arms. And though she knew these moments she shared with him were fleeting, she closed her eyes and pretended they would last forever.
As the music played on, one song segueing into another, he didn’t speak and gratefully neither did she. The spell would be broken soon enough without any help from her. The orchestra cooperated a little longer, playing a third slow and easy ballad, then finally picked up the tempo by several beats with an old disco favorite.
“I’m still not much good at the faster dance steps,” Bill admitted with obvious regret.
“Neither am I,” Eloise said.
Taking his cue, she stepped out of his arms, but didn’t pull her hand away when he seemed inclined to hold on to it.
“How about another glass of champagne?” he asked as he led her off the dance floor. “Or maybe something from the dessert table?”
Before Eloise could reply, they were waylaid by an investment banker who had been an associate of her husband’s, and his bejeweled wife. While Eloise spoke to them, Bill flagged down a waiter and got them each another glass of champagne. Then they seemed to be swept up in another round of pressing the flesh as late arrivals sought to make their presence known to the ball’s guest of honor and his lovely companion.
To his credit, Bill made sure they passed by the long, linen-covered table filled with desserts. Acknowledging in a teasing tone his recollection of her notorious taste for sweets, he helped her select a sampling of the luscious pastries on offer there.
But they weren’t able to slip away alone again. Instead, they were invited to sit at a large round table full of corporate leaders, an invitation Eloise knew they were both wise to graciously accept.
These were the men and women most likely to support nonprofit organizations like Manhattan Multiples. Of course, they were also just as likely to support major cuts in city funding, especially if it meant there wouldn’t be any increase in corporate taxes as a result, Eloise reminded herself as she nibbled on a tiny slice of sinfully delicious chocolate cake. Thankfully, no one at the table was boorish enough to bring up the subject, though.
But Eloise sensed an avid interest among their table mates in her rather odd and obviously unexpected appearance at the ball as Mayor Harper’s special guest when everyone knew they held opposing views on such an important and potentially volatile issue. She should really be much more concerned about what people thought, Eloise admitted. But she was feeling so mellow that it was easier to just drift along, nodding and smiling and occasionally offering an appropriate, if inane, comment whenever necessary.
“How about a last dance…for tonight?” Bill asked as the conversation around them fell into a lull and the orchestra once again slowed the tempo of the music.
“Yes, please.”
The rhythm of her heart quickening once again, Eloise smiled at him graciously, ignoring as best she could the raised eyebrows of several of the women as she took his proffered hand. She hadn’t missed Bill’s “for tonight,” and apparently, neither had they. But she knew better than they that he was only trying to charm her.
Under the circumstances, they wouldn’t be spending any more time together after tonight unless one or the other of them changed their political position. And that was highly unlikely to happen.
“Excuse us, everyone,” Bill said, and whisked her onto the dance floor as if afraid she would change her mind.
Fat chance of that happening, either, Eloise thought, as she stepped into his open arms and allowed herself to be enfolded in his masculine embrace one last time.
“I hope you didn’t mind my dragging you off the way I did, but it’s getting late and I wanted to dance with you again before we left,” Bill admitted somewhat sheepishly.
“I didn’t mind at all,” Eloise assured him, smiling as she met his questing gaze.
“Good.”
He drew her closer, his arms tightening around her imperceptibly as he brushed his cheek against her hair.
As the music played on, Eloise had a good idea of exactly how Cinderella must have felt, the clock ticking away the moments until she would be dropped back into the real world again. Her party was about to be over very soon, too. And in the morning she would once again have to face her own version of the real world, along with the very real problems she had come no closer to solving that night.
She had spent several hours with Mayor Harper, and although most of that time had also been spent with other people, as well, she’d had more than one opportunity to broach the subject of his proposed cuts to city funding. But she hadn’t done it, and she wasn’t going to.
Not as they danced together one last time, and not on the short ride back to her apartment, sitting close beside him in the privacy of his black limousine, the bright lights of the city muted by the tinted glass in the windows.
Certainly she was entitled to a little downtime, she reasoned justifiably. And certainly she was entitled to spend that downtime in harmony with an old and very dear friend, renewing an acquaintance that would be of benefit to her and, by association, to Manhattan Multiples, as well.
Or so she tried to believe as she tucked her head against Bill’s shoulder and allowed her hand to remain firmly clasped in his.
Whatever differences they had—and there were some—could, and would, be addressed. But at another time, in another place, she vowed, aware of how fleeting peaceful moments like the ones they now shared had lately seemed to be in her normally hectic life.
Bill appeared to be no more inclined to talk than she was, either in the limousine or on the all too speedy elevator ride to her apartment, though he did seem to want to keep ahold of her hand. Eloise was grateful on both counts. Tonight had been a very special night for her, one she would never forget. But just like Cinderella, she knew the countdown to its end would be over very soon now.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Bill said as the elevator door whispered open on her floor.
Stepping off together, they started slowly down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps, the pale glow of the art deco wall sconces lighting their way.
“So did I,” Eloise replied, risking a glance at him as they came to a halt just outside her apartment door.
She knew immediately that she had made a big mistake by meeting his gaze. Knew, too, what was coming next and that she had a duty to discourage it. But the look of longing in Bill’s bright blue eyes, edged with just the right hint of masculine mischief, made it impossible for her to do anything quite so sensible.
She was capable only of standing silently, caught and held by his mesmerizing gaze, as she awaited the inevitable and not unwelcome moment they had been moving toward all evening.
“I’m so glad we finally got together again,” he continued, his voice pitched a notch lower.
Obviously feeling much too sure of himself, he offered her another winning smile.
“Yes,” she agreed, brought back to earth again by his show of confidence. “I’m glad, too.” Then, gathering her wits about her as she should have done much sooner, she ever so politely extended her hand. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Bill.”
“Thank you, Eloise,” he replied, his smile widening. “For making it much more than a lovely evening.”
Pulling her close before she could even think of resisting, he bent his head and gently, chastely claimed her lips with his.
Eloise had forgotten how gratifying even the simplest kiss could be, especially when shared with someone as desirable as Bill Harper had always been to her.
It wasn’t as if thoughts of him had ever interfered with her marital happiness, and it certainly wasn’t as if she had ever obsessed about him sexually. But Bill had meant so much to her once upon a time.
So surely it wasn’t odd that her attraction to him had lingered over time, tucked away in the far reaches of her fondest-days-past memories. Nor was it any surprise at all that she found herself responding to his kiss with an ardor that she would have never displayed with any other man, even though some reticence on her part probably would have been wise.
But she didn’t want to be wise tonight, Eloise decided as Bill deepened their kiss ever so slightly.
Tracing the line of her lips with a teasing tongue, he sought entry, finding it as she uttered a soft sigh, relaxed against him and teased back with her own tongue.
His arms tightened around her possessively as they tasted each other intimately, and she sighed again, raising up on her toes, seeking desperately to get as close to him as she could. She wanted to feel even more completely the warmth radiating so seductively from his body—wanted, secretly, to dispense with all the clothing keeping her from putting her hands and her mouth against his hot, bare skin.
Suddenly, somewhere much too close to them, a door opened with a heavy rush. The sound registered in Eloise’s mind, along with the faintest hint of boyish snickering, setting off a vague sense of alarm. But she was too enthralled by Bill’s sensual kiss to react as promptly or appropriately as she should have. And then it was too late. She was thoroughly and completely caught in the act by her sons.
“Hey, Mom,” Henry, the youngest, sang out. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, Mom, you are way late,” John, her middle son, chided. “Way, way, way late. We expected you to be home hours ago.”
“Do you know how worried we’ve been?” Carl, the eldest, demanded, his tone resembling one she had often used herself with them, only without the obvious touch of humor blended in for good measure. “I’m here to tell you that you are so grounded.”
“Yeah, so grounded, Mom,” Henry and John echoed, barely able to contain their laughter.
Totally flustered, Eloise took a step back as Bill broke off their kiss with a masculine chuckle.
“Looks like we have an audience,” he muttered, his blue eyes gleaming with what appeared to be pride.
Though he shifted to one side so that he faced her sons—all three crowded into the open doorway of the apartment—he still kept a possessive arm around her shoulders.
“Sorry, guys, it’s my fault your mom’s late getting home. We were having so much fun together we lost all track of time.”
“A likely story,” Carl retorted grimly, but his eyes twinkled, too, as did his brothers’.
“You three were supposed to be in bed no later than ten o’clock,” Eloise reminded them primly, going on the offensive.
They looked so cute in the red plaid flannel pants and red long-sleeved T-shirts they had recently adopted in lieu of pajamas that she wanted to hug them. But they were the ones who were up much too late tonight—a school night—against her expressed wishes.
“And a good thing we weren’t,” John replied severely. “Otherwise, who knows what you might have gotten yourself into out here in the hallway?”
“Yeah, Mom, who knows?” Henry added.
“She’s safe with me,” Bill assured them. “Although I must admit I couldn’t resist snatching one little kiss before I said good-night.” He traded conspiratorial grins with her sons then transferred his charming gaze back to Eloise. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ms. Vale.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Mayor,” she murmured in reply, not quite able to look him in the eye.
Bending, Bill gave her a last quick kiss on the cheek, and added very quietly for her ears only, “I’ll call you,” as he gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Then, to her sons, he saluted smartly.
“Gentlemen, don’t be too hard on her.”
“We won’t,” Carl answered for all of them.
“And don’t you be too hard on them,” he instructed Eloise, his grin widening for an instant before he turned and headed down the hallway to the elevator.
