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He cocked a brow. “Dare I ask how you found out I like those, darling?”
“Research,” she said, twisting her purse. “Always research.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed for the bar, looking every inch a regal princess amongst her peers. He watched her go, clasping the coats so tight his hands ached.
“Why, if it isn’t Benjamin Gale the third,” someone exclaimed from behind him. “It’s been so long.”
He stiffened. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was his latest ex—the one his mother had wanted him to marry. He’d refused because she reminded him of his mother. And he sure as hell didn’t want to marry his mother. He’d rather marry Ivan the Terrible.
Forcing a pleasant expression even though the sound of her talking made him nauseated, he turned around. “Elizabeth. How wonderful to see you.”
“I know.” She beamed and rested a hand on his arm. Even her smile was icy. “Are you here alone, too? Oh, thank God. I have no one to dance with tonight, so this is perfect.”
“Actually, I—”
“When your mother told me to come, and that you’d mentioned wanting to see me again, I didn’t believe her. But now I’m here, and you’re here, and this couldn’t be more perfect.” She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her cold lips to his cheek. “I’ve missed you, too. But you dreadfully need to shave.”
He shook off her words. “My mother told you I missed you?”
“I did,” his mother said from behind him. “I’m sorry if I betrayed your confidence, but I couldn’t let it go. Not when you two are so well suited for one another.”
“You couldn’t be more right, Helen.” Elizabeth curled her hand around his arm, clinging tightly and smiling at his mother. “We make a great couple. I’ve always thought so.”
She pressed her slim frame against him as if to remind him what it felt like to be up
close and intimate with her. He knew perfectly well how she felt—wrong.
She wasn’t Maggie.
Chapter Ten
Maggie navigated the crowded hall slowly, watching the drinks in her hand cautiously. She’d opted for red wine, while getting Benji his old-fashioned. She smiled when she remembered his reaction when she’d asked him if he’d like one. The last time she’d gone to his penthouse, she’d talked to William for a few minutes. He was all too willing to impart information about his boss.
And she was all too willing to listen.
When it came to her fiancé, she was insatiable in her quest for knowledge. Despite all the romantic travesties in her past, and the fact that this whole affair would more than likely end in a disaster, she was going to give this a try.
She was going to give herself to Benji…
And stupidly hope for the best.
Someone bumped into her, but she managed to miraculously keep both drinks firmly in hand. She let out a sigh of relief and glanced up. It was the man she’d been watching earlier—and he was staring at her boobs. Not a Kennedy, then. Everyone knew they were ass men. “Sorry, Miss…?”
She did a little curtsy thing, since it was the best she could manage with full hands, and scanned the room, looking for Benjamin. She couldn’t find him through the crowd. “Donovan. Maggie Donovan.”
He bowed at the waist impatiently. “Lovely to meet you. Is that for me, sweetheart?”
“Is what for you?”
“The drink.” He pointed at the old-fashioned in her left hand. “Whoever hired you, I’ll pay double if you keep those coming.”
“Uh…” He thought she was an assistant of some sort, or whatever. This was literally her worst nightmare about tonight, come to life. One glance, and the man somehow realized she wasn’t one of them. Was it stamped across her forehead like a scarlett letter? “I’m not here as an assistant. This is for my fiancé. Maybe you know him?”
“Oh, so you’re a…oh. Sorry. Uh… Fiancé?” He perked up and scratched his head. “Who might that be?”
“Benjamin Gale the third.” Maggie smiled. “Of Gale Incorporated.”
He straightened even more. “He’s engaged? To you?” He gave her a once over, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “That can’t be. You’re not…”
