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“Kathryn, are you all right?”
Kate’s eyes locked with cornflower-blue ones that were delicately made up to complement fragile facial features and wheat-blonde hair.
“You’re worrying me,” said Charlotte Kensington, Kate’s soon-to-be-sister-in-law.
Kate gave a slight shake of her head, in hopes of dislodging images of Jude that materialized in her mind—at the most inconvenient time, no less. She needed to concentrate on the situation at hand: Charlotte’s engagement party. She was marrying Kate’s younger brother, Denny, in seven months. A regal Christmas affair to remember, without doubt.
“I’m fine,” Kate assured Charlotte. Her gaze swept the circle of socialites sitting primly in high-backed, upholstered chairs in the center of The Champagne Bar at The Plaza Hotel.
It was a busy Sunday afternoon at the prestigious cocktail lounge, with animated conversations surrounding them and the clinking of the rims of crystal flutes in cheerful toast for one special occasion or another.
Mirabeth Presley said, “Honestly, Kathryn, you can only keep us in suspense for so long. Who’s your plus-one for the party? I do need a name for the place cards, you know?”
“And the mystery is killing us all!” Charlotte added with a soft laugh. “Really, Kathryn. Whose arm will you be on Saturday evening? Do tell!”
Kate hated the drilling into her personal life. Usually, when she was with these women, she mainly cringed over the formal derivative of her name they insisted upon using. Despite her repeatedly asking them to call her Kate. She was accustomed to her family ignoring that particular request; apparently, now that Charlotte was only months away from becoming Dr. Denison Stockman’s wife, she felt compelled to follow the family’s lead and call her Kathryn.
Naturally, Charlotte’s upper echelon cronies didn’t deviate from their commander-in-chief’s direction.
So now Kate suffered through the pretentiousness of elitist formality. Something she’d attempted to step away from the whole of her life. And had almost succeeded. Then Charlotte had latched onto her with both hands—and wouldn’t let go.
Kate had instantly become the big sister Charlotte had never had. And she rarely made a move related to the engagement party, the wedding and the reception without first consulting Kate. Charlotte had even made her a bridesmaid. And Kate barely even knew the woman!
With all the wedding hoopla, Kate was now entrenched in this group and they were rabid when it came to learning everything they could about her—particularly pertaining to her sex life.
Which, unbeknownst to them, was nonexistent. Devoid of fantasies, truth be told.
Until that fateful day in Jude’s office…
Mirabeth chimed in once more, as the silence from Kate ensued, saying, “I happen to know Donald Worthington is waiting with bated breath for you to accept his invitation to accompany him to the party. Please tell us you’re considering him, Kathryn. He’s such a catch!”
“I’m not going with Donald,” she contended. Or any other man with a surname ending in ton. The Kensingtons, the Worthingtons, the Fullertons and the Lexingtons were all at the top of the list of the crème de la crème. Not Kate’s peeps, by any stretch. However…regardless of bright-eyed, twenty-two-year-old Charlotte Kensington’s pedigree, Kate did adore her. She was the perfect match for Denny.
Kate did not believe she was destined to find her own perfect match. Not that he was elusive…she just wasn’t interested in seeking him out. Well, admittedly, she couldn’t overlook the fact that the man who’d had her pinned between his office door and his rock-hard body stirred dark desires within Kate. And Jude’s intent gaze had been laced with the unmistakable promise of fulfilling those desires.
As though he could see right through her. As though Jude McMillan had some sort of sixth sense that allowed him to read her suddenly dirty thoughts. All starring—
“Kathryn?” Charlotte prompted again.
“Jude,” Kate whispered.
The ripple of gasps made Kate realize she’d uttered that one word aloud.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
Fuck. Me.
Her lids snapped open.
The gazes of eight very startled women were on her.
Hmm. In actuality, only seven of those eight women truly appeared startled.
Their charming princess gave Kate a smug smile and playfully said, “I knew it. There is a man in your life. And you’ve been keeping him a secret. Shame on you, dear sister.”
The others laughed. Kate winced.
“I, um… It’s not what you think,” she insisted. “Not at all.”
