Cartier. Unease filtered through her. “The diamonds are magnificent, but . . . You aren’t saying these are for me?” She had thought he’d borrowed them the way movie stars did. With his connections it would have been easy.
“Of course they’re yours. They’re a gift, just like the perfume.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m not accepting these, Linc. How could you think I would? If you want me to wear them tonight, I will, but there’s no way I’m keeping them.”
“What are you talking about? I can afford to give you these and I want you to have them.”
“It doesn’t matter what you can afford. Don’t you understand? This makes me feel like a kept woman. I’m already living with you—at least for the time being. You’ve made me a loan for the business. Expensive gifts turn this into something it isn’t.”
His temper was heating, she could see it.
“If I kept these,” she doggedly continued, “I’d just have to sell them to help repay the money I owe you.”
His features tightened. “Dammit, woman, you are the most . . .” Linc took in a calming breath. “Since I want this evening to be special, I’m not going to argue. Wear the diamonds tonight and I’ll return them tomorrow.”
Relief trickled through her. “Thank you.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “You’re amazing. If I haven’t already told you, I’m telling you now. You’re also stubborn to a fault and way too damned independent.”
“And you’re domineering, controlling, and too used to getting your way.” Moving closer, she slid her arm through his. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s go to the ball, Prince Charming.”
Linc laughed.
They took the elevator down to the underground garage. Carly wasn’t surprised to see a big black stretch limo waiting to whisk them off to the charity ball.
Aside from their unsettling encounter with Agent Taggart, Carly had enjoyed every moment of the day. But as they neared the hotel where the gala was to be held, her nerves began to build.
This was clearly an important night for Linc. She was going to meet his business partner and best friend, Beau Reese. For Linc’s sake, Carly wanted Beau to like her. The Dallas Art Gala, a benefit for cancer research, was the most prestigious ball in the city. The elite of the elite would be there. She wanted everything to go smoothly, wanted Linc to be proud of her.
When the limo reached the front of the hotel, a white jacketed valet opened the door and helped her out, and Linc followed. Cameras flashed as she took his arm and they started up the red carpet to the door.
Her stomach fluttered, tightened. Her fiancé, Carter Benson, had earned an extremely high salary. She had dated wealthy men, but she had never attended an affair as prestigious as this. She had never been with a man as rich as Linc or so well-known.
Members of the media called his name as they walked past. Linc waved and stopped a couple of times so the press could get a shot. Carly’s chest clamped down as she realized how much of a celebrity he actually was, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Brittany had mentioned his appearances in the tabloids, but Carly hadn’t completely understood until tonight.
This was the real Lincoln Cain, she realized, not the man in black leather who rode a Harley. This man wore a tuxedo with the ease of a pair of jeans.
As they walked into the marble-floored entry, her anxiety ratcheted up another notch. The Adolphus was old Dallas, done in an opulent French décor with rich dark woods, gilded ironwork, a sweeping staircase, and Renaissance paintings on the walls.
As they moved toward the Grand Ballroom, Linc paused several times to introduce her to people he knew. Carly smiled and struggled to remember their names, something she had always prided herself on when she had been a flight attendant.
Tonight she couldn’t seem to focus, couldn’t calm her raging nerves, and if she didn’t get herself under control, the evening was going to be a disaster.
They reached the entrance to the ballroom, where a line of elegantlydressed men and women waited to go in. She clutched Linc’s arm and hoped he couldn’t feel her trembling.
He looked down at her, an assessing look on his face. Carly managed to smile. Suddenly he turned and started striding back down the hall, forcing her along beside him.
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer, just kept walking. At the corner, he turned into another corridor, strode past the ladies’ room, the men’s room, paused in front of a door just beyond, reached down, and turned the knob.
Carly gasped as he swept her inside what appeared to be a linen closet filled with stacks of white tablecloths, napkins, and kitchen towels. The clean smell of soap and starch filled the cramped interior as the door closed softly, leaving them cocooned in darkness. She trembled as she felt Linc’s arm slide around her waist, pulling her back against his front. He lifted her hair aside, and his lips brushed the nape of her neck.
“What . . . what are you doing?”
“I’m going to help you relax.”
“In . . . in here?”
