my gaze to his, and the intensity of his look sets my heart fluttering.
“I hope you keep this one,” the older woman says as if she has some say in Damon Noble’s love life.
“I might keep her,” he says with a hint of authority.
His hand covers mine, and he squeezes it gently. I’m uncertain what the squeeze means, but I assume it means to play along.
I lean over and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek that makes my lips tingle. “That was such a nice thing to say.”
The moment is interrupted by our second course, which includes a beautifully prepared filet and a piece of salmon. The steak looks succulent and moist, and the salmon is cooked to perfection. I can tell everyone is enjoying their dinners by the silence at the table.
The lack of conversation gives me time to appreciate the room, which is gilded in gold and has large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. An elegant floral arrangement decorates each table, and someone has placed name cards above each place setting. Mine says, “Guest.”
“Did you enjoy your dinner, Katarina?” Damon uses the linen napkin to wipe his mouth and sets it on the table next to his near-empty plate.
“It was delicious. I especially liked the salmon. What about you?”
“The meal was nice, but I took pleasure in watching you eat. Did you know you chew everything at least twenty times?”
I giggled. “I don’t exactly count to twenty, but I chew my food well, so I don’t choke. I wouldn’t want you to have to give me the Heimlich.”
“In a room full of hospital staff, there would be someone more qualified to perform the task.”
I look around at all the older guests. “You’re probably right, but I’m sure they wouldn’t be nearly as handsome or charming.”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t let me fool you,” he whispers in a deep voice. “I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“I’ll consider myself warned.” What the hell? “What do you think we’ll have for dessert?” I ask.
He removes the program from under his plate and scans it until he finds the menu. “It looks like you will have pot de crème with raspberries and fresh whipped topping.” Leaning back in his chair, he adjusts his cummerbund and smooths out the silky material with his long fingers.
“What about you? Don’t you eat dessert?” I’m surprised someone would want to pass on a little pot of chocolate wonder.
“I don’t indulge in dessert often.”
“Well, that just seems criminal. No wine and no dessert? What do you indulge in?”
His eyes light up, and a wicked smile spreads across his face. “I can assure you I indulge. However, my tastes likely differ from yours. Enjoy your chocolate,” he says.
“I’m intrigued.” I want to explore the subject further.
“You’re not ready.” His salacious grin disappears as he sips his coffee, and I know we’re not talking about dessert.
As the master of ceremonies talks, Damon leans over and whispers in my ear. “Don’t go anywhere because I’ll be right back.” He rises at the mention of his name and walks to the podium.
He takes control of the room and mesmerizes me. There’s not a sound as everyone waits to hear what Damon Noble has to say.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out to dinner tonight. This fundraiser is near and dear to my heart. Over ten thousand children and young adults are diagnosed with some form of cancer each year. The five-year survival rate has increased from fifty-eight percent to nearly eighty percent since 1970. Your generous donations to research keep us moving forward in our search for a cure. I stand before you and ask you to give generously. Your dollar could be the one that saves a life.”
As Damon steps down from the podium, the thunderous sound of applause is deafening. The master of ceremonies takes his place and waits for the crowd to settle down.
“If you enjoyed dinner tonight, thank Mr. Noble and his mother, Rose, for their commitment to the Los Angeles General Hospital and their continued support of cancer research. Please stay and enjoy the live music and dancing.”
Rose is his mother? The information bounces back and forth in my head. Looking at her, I see the resemblance. She has similar blue eyes, although Damon’s are brighter and bluer. Her hair looks almost silver, but it was probably a light blonde when she was younger. Feeling heat spread across my back, I turn and find him staring at me.
Can someone warm you with a look?
“Damon.