Black Rose Page 0,24

treat to study him either way.

Still, he seemed slightly befuddled with the crowd, and shook his head when one of the efficient servers offered him a glass from a tray of champagne.

"Excuse me just a minute," she said to Will and Logan.

She started to wind her way through the room, and broke her stride when his gaze skimmed over, then locked on her face.

She felt a little bump under her heart, and a quickening of pulse she found both baffling and embarrassing.

He just hones in, she thought. Those eyes just zeroed right on in so she felt - anyone would feel - that she was the only person in the room. A good trick in a space jammed with people and noise, and just a little disconcerting.

But her expression was easy and friendly as she walked to him.

"I'm so glad you could come."

"When you throw a party, you mean it. I could see the lights from a mile away. You don't actually know all these people, do you?"

"Never seen them before in my life. What can I get you to drink?"

"Club soda, lime."

"There's a bar set up over here." To guide him, she laid a hand on his arm. "Let's get you fixed up."

"Thanks. Listen, I have something for you. A gift."

He dug into his pocket as they crossed to the bar, then offered her a small wrapped box.

"That's completely unnecessary, and awfully sweet."

"Just a thanks for bailing me out with the gift for my niece." He ordered his drink. "You look . . .amazing is the word that springs to mind, withspectacular coming right behind it."

"Thank you."

"From head." His gaze skimmed down to her silver-heeled sandals - and the ruby-red toenails. "To toe."

"My mama always said a woman wasn't groomed unless her toenails were painted. It's one of the few pieces of advice she gave me I agreed with. Should I open this now?"

He'd barely glanced at the rubies, though his amateur antiquer's eye judged them to be vintage. But the toes. The toes were terrific.

"What?"

"The gift." She smiled. It was hard not to be pleased, and a little bit smug, when a man was enraptured by your feet. "Should I open it now?"

"Oh, no, I wish you wouldn't. If you open it later, and you hate it, you'll have time to prepare a polite lie."

"Don't be silly. I'm opening it now."

She tugged off the ribbon, lifted the top. Inside was a miniature clock, framed in silver filigree. "It's lovely. It's really lovely."

"Antiquing's a hobby of mine. Makes sense, considering. I figured with this house, you'd enjoy old things. There's an inscription on the back. It got to me."

She turned it over and read.

L, Count the hours. N

"Lovely, and romantic. It's wonderful, Mitch, and certainly more than I deserve for picking out a toy."

"It made me think of you." When she lifted her head, he shook his. "That put a cynical look in your eye. But fact's fact. I saw it, thought of you."

"Does that happen often?"

"My thinking of you?"

"No, thinking of someone and buying her a charming gift."

"From time to time. Not in some time, actually. Does it happen often on your end?"

She smiled a little. "Not in some time. Thank you, very much. I want to put this upstairs. Why don't I introduce you to . . . oh, there's Stella. Nobody can steer you through a party better than our Stella."

"Mitch." Stella held out a hand for him. "It's good to see you again."

"And you. You're blooming," he said. "It must be love."

"I can confirm that."

"And how are your boys?"

"They're great, thanks. Conked out upstairs, and . . . oh." She broke off when she saw the little clock. "Isn't that sweet? So romantic and female."

"Lovely, isn't it?" Roz agreed. "It was a gift, for a very small favor."

"You wouldn't say small if you'd been on the receiving end of the phone call I got from my sister and my niece," Mitch told her. "I'm not only officially forgiven, I'm currently enjoying favorite-uncle status."

"Well then, obviously I deserve this. Stella, show Mitch around, will you? I just want to put this upstairs."

"Sure." And Stella noted the way Mitch's gaze followed Roz out of the room.

"One question before we make the rounds. Is she seeing anyone?"

"No, she's not."

He grinned as he took Stella's arm. "How about that?"

Roz mingled her way to the foyer, then started upstairs. It reminded her that she'd walked up these stairs at another party, with the voices and the music and lights behind