One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(9)
Author: Anna DePalo

Not waiting for a clearer sign of encouragement, he leaned in, and as her eyelids lowered, gently pressed his lips to her. She felt the momentary zing of electricity, and her lips parted on an indrawn breath. And then his mouth moved over hers, tasting and sampling, giving and receiving.

His lips were soft, and she tasted the faint lingering flavor of his drink as they kissed. The crowd around them receded as she focused on every warm stroke of his mouth against hers.

Just as their kiss threatened to become more heated, he drew back, his expression thoughtful and bemused. “There, how was that?”

She searched his eyes. “Y-you are in no way related to Kermit the Frog.”

He grinned. “How about my fishing? Am I reeling you in?”

“A-am I on the hook or are you?”

“James.”

The moment was interrupted as he was hailed by someone and turned in the direction of a man coming toward them.

Pia straightened and sat back in her seat, belatedly realizing with some embarrassment that she was still leaning forward.

“The CEO of MetaSky Investments is here, James,” the man announced, sparing her a cursory look. “I’ll introduce you.”

Pia judged the man to be a contemporary of James’s. Perhaps he was a friend or a business colleague.

At the same time, she sensed James hesitate beside her. She could tell that whoever this CEO was, it would be valuable for James to meet him. After all, he was important enough for a friend to have sought James out in the crowded bar.

James turned toward her. “Will you—”

“There you are, Pia! I’ve been searching for you.”

Cornelia materialized out of the crowd.

Pia pasted a bright smile on her face as she glanced at James. “As you can see, you no longer need to worry about leaving me alone.”

James nodded. “Will you excuse me?”

“Of course.”

Pia tamed her disappointment as James rose to depart. She noticed that he didn’t say he’d be back. And she knew better than to expect that he would return. She understood—sort of—that these flirtations in bars were fleeting and transient.

On the other hand, the romantic in her believed in kismet. He was the most magnificent man she’d ever met.

And if that had been the last she’d seen of him, she probably would have remembered him as nothing more than a handsome, charming fantasy—a brief glimpse of a fairy-tale prince to brighten her disappointing night. Certainly, the evening began to show few signs of success once they went their separate ways.

Two hours afterward, however, it was hard to keep disappointment at bay. She hadn’t glimpsed James since he’d departed, nor had she had any luck in making potential contacts, aside from handing her business card out to a couple of women who’d expressed a casual interest in retaining an event planner.

Pia sighed as she slid off a bar stool, having settled her tab. Cornelia had departed twenty minutes ago while Pia had still been conversing with a potential client. The woman who’d just vacated the bar stool next to Pia was an office manager at a small real estate firm, and though she’d had someone whom she used to help plan the firm’s annual holiday party, she’d been willing to listen to Pia’s pitch.

Business development was the part of her job that Pia found most challenging. Coming from Pennsylvania, she didn’t have an extensive social network in the city. And it was so disheartening to get the brush-off from strangers. She supposed that telemarketing could be worse, but then again, at least telemarketers only had to deal with rejection by phone rather than face-to-face.

There was no doubt about the high point of the evening. James had shown real interest in her—however briefly.

Pia felt her heart squeeze. Definitely time to leave.

She’d head home to a rent-stabilized apartment on the unfashionable edge of the Upper East Side. She decided she’d pop in a DVD and lose herself in one of her favorite Jane Austen flicks, spending the rest of the evening forgetting what would never be.

It was a decent feel-good plan. Except as soon as she stepped out of the bar, she realized that it was pouring rain.

Oh, great.

She huddled under the bar’s awning and looked down at herself. Even with the platform heels on her beige sandals, she knew her feet—and likely more—were going to get soaked. She’d tucked a small umbrella into her handbag this morning, just in case, but she’d been betting it wouldn’t rain when she’d chosen what to wear. The weather report had said showers weren’t in the forecast until the wee hours of the morning.

Her one hope was hailing a cab, but she knew one would be scarce in this kind of weather, and in any case, on her salary, taxis were a luxury she tried to avoid. The only alternative was walking to the subway and then making the long hike from the train station to her apartment.

As she stood there, hugging herself for warmth and debating her options, the tavern door behind her opened.

“Need a ride?”

She turned and glanced up. James.

Paradoxically, she felt embarrassed—as if she were the one running out on him, when in reality he hadn’t sought her out again.

“I thought you’d already left,” she blurted.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I did, but I came back in. I was conversing with the CEO of MetaSky outside, where we could hear each other and speak with more privacy.” He looked around them. “It wasn’t raining then.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“Do you need a ride?” he asked again, glancing down at her.

She tried for some belated dignity, even as a gust of wind pelted her with raindrops. “I’m f-fine. I’m just debating whether to walk, row or swim home.”

His smile spread. “What about a car instead?”

She raised her eyebrows. “How are we ever going to catch an empty cab in this weather?”

She knew that rain made New York City taxis disappear.

“Leave it to me.”

She watched as James scanned the street. Two cabs passed them but their lit signs indicated that they were occupied. As the two of them waited, they made idle chitchat.

Close to fifteen minutes later, by a stroke of luck, James spotted a cab letting out a passenger beyond the nearest intersection. He moved swiftly from the shelter of the awning and into the street when the empty cab started to make its way down their block. He raised his arm, a commanding presence, and hailed the cab.

As the rain continued to assault him, he opened the taxi’s door and motioned for her to step in.