Page 41 of Air Affair

Hank’s hand touched hers, and it was electric. Everything else in the room disappeared.

By luck, the band started a slow, lugubrious foxtrot. His hand kissed her bare back right beneath her shoulder blades, and she shivered in pleasure. As her chest brushed against his in the intimate embrace the dance required, her nipples stiffened, and warmth coiled between her legs. She could hardly wait until she had him all to herself. In his arms, she could lose herself and maybe even forget her father’s little speech. How could the man forget to mention her birthday in the middle of her birthday party? Not that he was ever enthusiastic about her birthday. He usually avoided her celebrations entirely.

But coming to her party and then not making one mention of her had to be deliberate. Maybe it was Papa’s revenge for her breaking things off with Edward. He’d certainly wasted no time inviting every high-society low-life in search of an heiress to her party. She wished it didn’t sting as much as it did.

But she wasn’t going to waste another thought on her father, not when she was finally in Hank’s arms where she belonged.

As they began to move, their bodies pressed close, his inner thigh brushed against her own through layers of fabric, tantalizing and tempting her, so close to where she wanted him. She bit her lip, needing the pain to bring her back to the present. Her father was in the room, watching all that transpired, plotting how to marry her off to the first fortune hunter he could find with a family name that he found acceptable. She couldn’t surrender to the dance, not yet. Later tonight, she would be his, but not now. It was only a dance.

The music built, and Hank pulled her closer. “Happy birthday, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. She felt the words resonating in her core.

“You can make it happier still,” she murmured back. “Ask the front desk for the key to room 512. Tell them your name is Albert Jones. I’ll be there at midnight.”

He pulled her closer still, the steady rhythm of the music carrying them along as it built toward a climax. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t. You’re risking too much.”

She adjusted her leg’s position to brush against his front on the next step. Sure enough, there was a bulge. “No reluctance where it matters,” she observed.

“Dammit, Rory,” he exclaimed in a whispered hiss. “I’m trying to do the right thing by you.”

“Then stop. I’m perfectly capable of deciding what risks I wish to take.”

He was silent, his smoldering eyes burning into her as they moved across the dance floor.

“I’ve taken significant precautions to ensure we won’t be discovered. No one will ever know I’ve been in your room.”

Still, he said nothing.

“Will you come?”

He closed his eyes and breathed out. “I shouldn’t.” But he sounded less certain.

“You’ll come. You wouldn’t dare disappoint the birthday girl,” she said with a confident smile.

The dance was coming to an end. “Goodbye, Rory, and best wishes. I’m leaving after this dance.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Hank. Don’t fail me.”

He released her slowly as Aunt Alva strode toward her with a frown, calling out, “Rory dear, I’m afraid I must be going. Come say goodbye.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Rory called out, then whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you shortly.” She didn’t wait for an answer before turning away to speak with her aunt.

“Who was that young man?” Aunt Alva asked, narrowing her eyes.

Oh dear. The last thing she wanted right now was for Aunt Alva to draw attention to Hank.

“I have no idea. Just one of the legion of eligible bachelors Papa seems to have invited,” Rory answered quickly. “When is the next march? Do you need me to come by to paint signs later this week?”

Aunt Alva pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. But when she opened her mouth, all she said was, “Come by Sunday afternoon around two. Enjoy the rest of your birthday, my dear.”

Rory didn’t see Hank leave, but she felt his absence as soon as he was gone.

The rest of the party was a whirlwind. She danced almost without pause for three hours straight before things began to wind down. Her father was among the first to depart.

“Will I see you at home?”

“No, Papa. I took a room here. I knew I’d be too spent to head back uptown.”

“Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast,” he said and left. Not so much as a happy birthday, not that she should be surprised after all these years.