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“All set.” Callie stood in the doorway.
Dylan stared at the vision before him. She simply took his breath away. The sapphire gown clung to her every curve, and the color made her eyes even more mesmerizing. All he could picture was pulling every pin from her hair, slowly peeling the gown from her body, and carrying her back to his bedroom.
“Lord, I wish we had more time.” Without a thought of how wrinkled her gown might become, he pulled her into his arms. “You look incredible,” he murmured against the side of her neck, inhaling the light scent of the vanilla shampoo she favored. Slowly, he kissed his way up till his mouth settled on hers.
He’d just reached to slide the zipper of her gown down when his cell phone went off. The offending sound cut through his haze of desire, and he pulled back enough to pull the device from his pocket. “The car is waiting for us.” Dylan dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You might want to fix your makeup before we go.” Their little make out session smudged her lipstick.
Callie glared at him before turning and leaving. Dylan watched her retreating form with pure male appreciation. It was going to be a very long evening. He wondered how early an exit they might be able to make.
She’d ridden in limos to all of her proms, as well as to her cousin Rachel’s wedding. Those limos were nothing like this one. This one may have resembled the others, but everything in it was new and top of the line.
“What’s tonight going to be like? Are there going to be a lot of people? Have I told you how much I hate large gatherings when I don’t know anyone?” Callie took a sip of her sparkling water. Her mouth felt as if it was covered in cotton, yet her palms were ridiculously sweaty.
“Speeches, dinner, and a whole lot of ass-kissing. Nothing too exciting.”
The limo stopped in front of the Waldorf Astoria.
This is it. I can handle it.
“Just relax. I’ll be with you all night. If you need to leave, just tell me and we’ll go.”
Callie gave him a small, weak smile. “Thanks.”
Elegantly dressed men and women sat at every table. Some she recognized from television or magazines. The whole thing felt surreal to her, like she’d stepped into another reality. She had to fight the urge to ask Dylan to leave the minute they walked into the ballroom. While he had offered to go whenever she needed to, Callie wasn’t sure how he really felt about doing that. This type of event was not new to him. Besides, Warren probably expected him to be there along with the rest of the family.
“I can’t believe some of the people who are here tonight. Was that Mia Troy we passed when we first came in?” Callie asked, referring to a popular film star.
Dylan placed his hand on the small of her back and led her toward the bar. “Yes. She’s a big supporter of Warren’s. Has been since he first announced his plan to run. She’s also a good friend of Sara’s.”
“Really? For some reason, I thought most Hollywood celebrities tended to support Richardson.” Callie accepted the glass of white wine the bartender handed her and surveyed the ballroom in awe. She couldn’t believe she was in the same room as these people.
“Most do, but not all. Anderson Brady is another big supporter of Warren’s from Hollywood.” Dylan accepted his own drink, then placed his arm around her shoulders. “So who do you think will win the game tonight, the Yankees or Tampa Bay?”
So far that evening, she’d only spoken with her father for a few minutes. They’d just started a conversation when someone had interrupted them, insisting he needed to talk with him immediately. Callie hadn’t minded too much. While she liked her father and did want to get to know him better, she’d come tonight because of Dylan. She’d tried to tell herself otherwise before coming, but it was true. Somewhere along the line, she’d fallen head over heels in love with him, and coming tonight meant she could spend time with him.
Dylan leaned closer to her so he could whisper in her ear. They were seated alone. The table’s other occupants hadn’t yet been seated. “Are you doing okay?”
The concern in his voice touched her. While she wasn’t fooled enough to think he loved her, Callie thought he did care about her. She squeezed his hand, which rested on her thigh. “Fine. Just a little overwhelmed.”
“You’re doing great.” He placed a feather light kiss on her check. “As soon as we can go, we will. Promise. I’d much rather have you all to myself.”
Callie saw the flash of light. Turning, she caught a glimpse of a photographer before he moved on to another table. She hadn’t expected anyone to take pictures of her tonight. Then again, the photographer seemed to be taking pictures of everyone there. Obviously, this event was an even bigger deal than she’d thought.
“Callie, I’d like to introduce you to Marty Phillips. He is Warren’s campaign advisor.”
She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of the photographer, she hadn’t noticed that someone had started a conversation with Dylan.
The man extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Taylor. I have heard a lot about you from Warren.”
Callie smiled and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.” The man was handsome, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Dylan. Then again, not many men could hold a candle to Dylan. And the man’s eyes were so cold. The thought sounded a little silly to her, but it somehow described the eyes of the man who carefully studied her just then.
“If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with Dylan in private,” Marty said, explaining his presence at their table.
Nodding, Callie watched them walk away. She hoped Marty didn’t keep Dylan long. She felt silly sitting all by herself and wasn’t comfortable enough to socialize with anyone else.
“Following in your mother’s footsteps?” a voice asked softly so that only Callie would hear.
Groaning inwardly, Callie turned to face her half-sister. So far that night, she’d managed to avoid the woman. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since the day they met in Warren’s office.
