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“Uh-oh. That’s not supposed to show. I’ve still got two more dances.” She was tired. Tired of dancing with all these men when what she really wanted was to find Rob.
No, she didn’t want to find him. What she wanted was to not even care that he was in the same room. Either way, it didn’t look like she was going to get what she wanted this evening. She kept smiling anyway.
“Maybe no one else noticed.”
“Maybe.” But she doubted it.
“And maybe the next two won’t use your feet as target practice.”
She laughed. A real laugh compared to the feigned ones at Bachelor #4’s incessant jokes. Ugh. “That would be nice. Was I grimacing that badly?”
“No, you were very gracious and kept your smile in place even after most women would have politely--or not so politely--excused themselves.”
“Most women aren’t having their every movement, and word,” she added, remembering the mike she wore. “Taped.”
“True.” He smiled, and Jill relaxed. She took a closer look. Bachelor #10 was a ruggedly handsome blue-eyed blonde who looked like he should model Stetson cologne for a living.
“I can’t remember your name. I’m sorry. I know it’s terribly rude of me as each of you introduced yourselves after I came downstairs, but the names ran together,” she said in her most practiced princess voice.
“Bachelor #10, Jeff Kensington.” He grinned, not seeming to care that she’d had to ask.
“You’re the safari doctor?”
He nodded, his smile reaching his eyes, letting her know he truly loved what he did.
“Tell me about your work.”
As they swayed to the music, he did. The song ended quicker than she would have liked. Jeff was a wonderful dancer, and the medical missions he was involved with in Central America fascinated her. But Bachelor #11 patiently waited for his turn.
The next two dances passed pain free, and she managed to keep a smile plastered on her face for the cameras.
The bachelors milled around sipping champagne and chatting. She joined the closest group--Jeff Kensington’s group. She’d fulfill her obligations by mingling with the men and would hopefully see Rob before the night ended.
No, she didn’t want to see Rob. She needed to forget Rob. She’d keep her eyes on the bachelors. However, if Rob just happened to wander into her field of vision, well, a girl couldn’t be blamed for looking. She mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her smile bright.
The next two hours flew. Jill allowed the men to convince her to join them in a few more dances—just not 4, 7, 8, or 9.
Someone tapped on her shoulder, and she turned to see which bachelor wanted another dance, praying it wasn’t one of the dreaded four. She’d only had two glasses of champagne but her insides bubbled with giddiness when she saw the tall, obscenely handsome man standing next to her.
“Rob!” He was the last person she’d expected, but the one she’d longed to dance with all night, if she was honest with herself. She raked her gaze over him. His tux fit to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow hips. The crisp white of his shirt gave an added glow to his golden skin and his whiskey eyes sparkled.
God, he was magnificent. Benjamin Bratt eat your heart out.
“May I?” He extended his hand to her. Quivers of anticipation shot through her.
“Of course.” She turned to the bachelors she’d been talking to and excused herself in what she hoped was a princessly manner and not an I-shouldn’t-be-doing-this-but-I’m-going-to-anyway-nervous-bumbling like it really was.
“You are absolutely breathtaking,” Rob whispered into her ear the moment she slipped into his arms. His warm breath tickled the inside of her ear, making the tiniest of hairs on her neck to prickle to attention.
“Thank you. I was thinking the same thing about you.” Her face flamed. She wasn’t supposed to have said that out loud. And she’d forgotten to whisper, which meant good old mike had captured every word.
“What is it about a man in a tux?” she laughed, another of those forced, fake ones. She’d spent the whole week with him, talking for hours on end, what was wrong with her that she suddenly couldn’t think? Oh yeah, now she remembered. She hadn’t been enveloped in his arms, hadn’t been snuggled against his hard frame, hadn’t been so close she breathed the same air as he did. That’s why she could barely string two words together, much less obtain coherency.
“Actually, we guys look like a bunch of penguins and you look like a beautiful fairy princess.”
Her insides melted. Oh, why, oh, why couldn’t he be one of the bachelors?
“I didn’t realize I was allowed to dance with you.” If she had, she’d have found him earlier, bachelor or not.
