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Emrys just grunts and nods, acquiescing.
Satisfied he's made his stance clear, Dad gestures to the waiter for more wine. "Good! Now who wants to hear some embarrassing stories about Kat's childhood?"
I groan loudly. It's going to be a long night.
Chapter 10
Kathryn Sharpe is not what I expected.
When I took this assignment, I pictured a spoiled socialite. Another vapid beauty looking for a showpiece on her arm. I’ve dealt with the type before.
But there’s a sharp mind and fiery spirit beneath Kathryn’s polished exterior. She holds her own against her mother’s meddling and the men vying for her attention. She’s kind and respectful to everyone she comes across, not an ounce of inflated ego to be seen.
At dinner, her father grills us all, but it doesn’t faze me. But when Wilder, of course, seizes the opportunity to spin some crazy tale about how he met Kat that has everyone laughing, I grind my teeth. Suddenly I’m not so sure about my own tale of how we met.
Emyrs gets a wounded bear cub heroic story and Wilder gets a romantic comedy level meet-cute.
And I go with a charity gala?
I bite back a groan and focus on the conversation in time to agree to never hurt Kat. Yet, what should just be a normal rehearsed line that I give all the fathers of my clients, somehow feels more as I glance once again in Kat’s direction.
What is it about her?
She’s confident, yet still insecure and modest. She’s witty and sharp, yet blushes and flushes like she’s never even been kissed. She’s closed off and guarded, yet somehow still wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s an enigma. A puzzle that I can’t quite figure out.
She’s undeniably interesting.
I’ve never felt even a sliver of attraction to a client before–as a lawyer or a hired boyfriend–yet she’s sucking me into her orbit without even trying.
I’m professional to a T, yet she has me thinking decidedly unprofessional thoughts.
As dinner progresses, I find my attention continually drifting back to her. The way her nose crinkles when she laughs. How she tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The graceful curve of her neck as she leans in to listen to her father.
I'm utterly distracted and only pulled out of my thoughts when Wilder launches into another exaggerated story that has the whole table erupting into laughter. Even Kathryn betrays a hint of a smile, though she tries to hide it.
"Oh Roger, remember the time little Kat tried to sneak that litter of kittens into the house?" Kathryn's mother trills.
Kathryn lets out a dramatic groan as her father chuckles. "That's right! Found them bundled up in her doll stroller, meowing up a storm. She was always trying to rescue some poor animal."
"Dad, no one needs to hear this," Kathryn protests, though amusement sparks in her eyes.
"Nonsense! I'm sure your young gentlemen would love to hear all about your wild adventures." Roger waves his hand dismissively.
I have to admit, I'm intrigued to learn more about what shaped the compassionate, quick-witted woman beside me. "I think your father's stories sound delightful," I offer.
Kathryn shoots me a look of mock betrayal, fighting back a smile. "Just you wait. I'll get you back for this," she whispers under her breath.
A pleasurable tingle runs through me at the promise in her words. I tamp it down quickly.
As the night wears on, Kathryn's guard lowers ever so slightly. Her smiles come easier, her eyes brighter. I find myself leaning closer, not wanting the evening to end. This assignment was meant to be simple, straightforward.
Yet, Kathryn Sharpe is anything but.
The band starts up a lively tune and couples begin drifting to the dance floor. I watch as Wilder asks Kathryn for a dance with an exaggerated bow. She looks briefly hesitant before accepting, allowing him to lead her away.
I tell myself the tightness in my chest is merely protectiveness, not envy at how freely Wilder touches her, how brightly she smiles up at him.
"They look good together," Emrys comments flatly. I wonder if imagining my fist hitting his smug face would be terribly unprofessional.
