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It dawned on Laura only then that she would never meet this man, and quite possibly Adell Cameron and her family outside of this occasion. She chided herself for allowing her thoughts to get so caught up in the O'Reilly’s.
Glancing around the table, listening to the continual degrading of a man she did not even know from people he funded the very livelihood they depended upon, caused her to realize she was no better. Though she held no associations to Dexter O’Reilly, was of no importance. Attacking and condemning a man behind his back before even getting to know him, was simply cruel.
Deciding then and there to block out any more conversation regarding the O'Reilly family, Laura turned her attention away from the group.
That was when the woman sitting across from her, paused in mid-sentence to utter, “Well speak of the devil.”
Laura turned her attention unwillingly back. The woman stared disbelieving somewhere over Laura's right shoulder. As though a puppet, she found herself turning in her seat to follow the woman's gaze.
A tall, lithe man stood in the entrance to the hall. Dressed in office attire, his aloof stance gave off an aroma of power in a brash egotistic manner. He stood as if he were the center of attention, drawing all eyes upon him. Indeed he was a magnificent sight to behold. At over six feet tall and with a set of thick brown locks brushed to perfection over a set of penetrating but mesmerizing dark eyes, he was the epitome of male perfection.
However, it was in the face that this image of eminence had a startling contrast. It wasn’t hardly unpleasant to look at, Laura acknowledged with a womanly appreciation, however it bore a brooding darkness that originated from those dark eyes and had an effect on the rest of his features. His face was long and cut sharply along the cheekbones and jaw where it came together to form a distinctive square and powerful chin that concealed the trace of a dimple. The intense details of his face helped to form the hard and stern countenance he bore, and Laura knew instantly it had been a long time since it cracked a smile.
The agreeable nature and sunny disposition of his kin was nowhere to be found in the piercing set of hazel eyes inherited from his mother and shared with his brother. Dexter O'Reilly was not anything like his relations. There was a family resemblance, yes, but that was where it stopped. He certainly did not have the glowing personality his family possessed.
He had been surveying the room when suddenly his dark eyes stopped in her direction. He caught and held her attention. A cold blank stare, which said absolutely nothing at all, held her spellbound. An unexpected jolt ricocheted along her pulse until it found its way to the vicinity of her chest. She took a silent gasp of air and blinked in astonishment. Finding herself incapable of looking away, she tilted her chin slightly and stared boldly back.
Their eyes locked and held across the room of sixty or more faces. The noise of the party dimmed to a murmur. The only hushed sound recognizable was her own hollow breathing. Time seemed to slip away as she sat there staring at a complete stranger who held her gaze completely captive. His dark features bore no hint of his thoughts. It struck Laura that it was an unusual expression, one she had never seen before. Almost lifeless, and without human depth.
Dexter O'Reilly broke the trance at last by jerking his dark head in the opposite direction and moving his lean form to follow. She blinked at the sudden laceration to their locked gaze, yet felt a shudder of relief. She watched him walk away only long enough to see him greet his mother. The woman smiled up at her son. He had none in return.
Laura turned back to the group around the table who were full of excited static about this latest arrival. Not wanting to be part of the gossip any longer, she excused herself while she went and retrieved a drink at the bar. Threading her way through the gathering of guests, she happened to notice Lydia and Harris O'Reilly talking to Norton Cameron. Their faces were solemn, no longer smiling and cheerful. Laura couldn't help but blame the grim newcomer for their sudden state of distress.
She ordered a ginger ale with rye, then began to retrace her steps, dawdling as she went, in no rush to rejoin David and his group of friends. Stepping around a very large man too intent in his conversation with a slightly smaller man to realize he blocked her way, Laura stepped right into someone’s path coming up behind her. The collision would have knocked her over had a set of hands not come up and steadied her. She glanced over her shoulder to realize the hands belonged to Dexter O’Reilly. Once again, their eyes locked.
Something fluttered beneath her breast then unexpectedly began to bloom, causing a warmth to spread all over Laura. At closer proximity, she noticed the smooth shave of his face, the pronounced cleft between his nose and lips, and tiny little creases at the corner of his eyes. Which at the moment were beginning to deepen at her thorough examination.
Adell Cameron's voice startled her out of her stupor. “Well, hello again.”
At the sound of his mother’s voice, Dexter O'Reilly immediately dropped his hands as if he suddenly just realized he was still touching her. The moment he did, Laura felt a cold rush of withdrawal.
Pulling her muddled self together, she composed herself and turned to the older woman with a friendly smile, all the while extraordinarily conscious of the man standing beside his mother watching her. Not for the life of her would she meet looks with him again. It had left her feeling utterly unsettled. “Hello Mrs. Cameron.”
“Adell, please.” Her hostess spoke with poise but with a lively edge to her voice. When she smiled her entire face lit up. “You’re David’s wife, aren’t you?”
“No, actually we’re just friends.”
“Oh, well then it must be awfully serious for you to take time away from your own family on Christmas Eve to join him here with us tonight.”
A temporary shadow crossed her pale features. “I don’t have any family. My father passed away earlier this year.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” The tall but slender woman reached out and touched her arm.
Unconsciously, Laura’s eyes strayed to the man standing pompously next to h
is mother. She hated when the subject of her father’s death was brought up. It inevitably always drew sympathy. She knew perfectly well that it was part of human nature. Anything less would be considered heartless. Still, Laura hated their pity.
However, Dexter’s face bore no emotion or compassion. He simply stared blankly back at her. A grisly feeling of apprehension shot through her from the somber depths of his dark eyes. An unsuspecting chill swept over her body and had her automatically reaching up and rubbing goose-bumps that had suddenly appeared on her arms. Then, before she could decipher his expression further, it was gone and he was looking away.
Adell’s voice drew her attention back. “This must be very difficult for you.”
Laura smiled naturally for the first time that evening. “I’m managing, thank you. But the festive atmosphere of your party is certainly helping. You did a wonderful job.”
“Christmas is my favorite time of year. I always like to go all out. At least my son teases me I do.”
Laura felt obligated to look at him once more, however, he continued to remain detached. As if finding anything more interesting at that moment than the two woman before him. However, in the split second that she allowed her gaze to drift to him, she knew he was finding little else in the hall of partygoers of interest. She knew instantly he wished to be anywhere but there.
Adell noticed her glance shift to Dexter and quickly corrected, “I was referring to Harris, actually.” Then remembering her manners, she said, “I apologize. This is my son—”
