the society ladies in close proximity sighed. He looked up, those eyes vividly blue. “What do you think?”
“It would definitely be seen as tacky,” she said and took a shaking breath even as she gripped his hand. He was rock solid, and exactly the anchor she needed. In that moment, Chloe realized she hadn’t lied to Josh—she could love Hunter, because he accepted her as she was. He had secrets, but so did she, and as she stared into his eyes, she knew she wouldn’t mind spending some serious time unraveling them.
“Get me out of here?” she said softly. It was both a question and a plea, and she saw Hunter’s gaze flick over the watchful crowd.
“Once around the floor first would be better,” he said in an undertone. “If you’re good with it.”
“Why?”
“Because then it’s a triumphant exit, not a flounce.” His eyes twinkled.
Chloe found her lips curving into a smile. “I don’t flounce.”
“My point exactly,” Hunter agreed and their gazes locked for a potent moment. “I don’t think we should create false expectations.” He nodded toward the floor. “Blue Danube. Shall we?”
She leaned closer to him to whisper. “Only if you kiss me when we’ve done that round, kiss me like you really mean it.”
“Who says I won’t really mean it?” he murmured but she ignored him. “We’ll finish at the mistletoe.”
“Then we can drag each other out of here.”
“Any plans of destination?” he asked as he spun her onto the floor. He was making her look good, twirling her and turning her, even as he watched for Josh. He was protective in a way that Chloe hadn’t expected. In fact, there was a lot about Hunter that she hadn’t expected, and she liked him more with every passing minute.
And that meant her impulsive idea was absolutely perfect.
She was going to indulge herself in one glorious reckless night.
With Hunter.
“Not home,” she said firmly.
Hunter scanned the dance floor, obviously spotted Josh, then smiled at her. “Upper West Side suit you?”
“Yes,” Chloe said, smiling into his eyes. She spoke loudly, ensuring that others heard her. “Going home with you tonight will suit me just fine, Hunter.”
His eyes blazed blue then, a sudden and unexpected sign of his intensity, and Chloe knew she’d made the right choice.
If she was going to learn about taking chances, who better to teach her than Hunter?
Chloe’s words were all for show, and Hunter was good with that. He hailed a cab and got her jacket, defending her from well-intentioned but interfering relatives and friends. She wanted to leave and he’d make it so. The story about going home with him was just to annoy Josh, and Hunter couldn’t argue with that impulse. He’d take her home or for a drive around the park or whatever she wanted.
And that would be the end of it. Mission accomplished.
He should have been glad about that. He should have felt good about the panache they’d shown on their fake date, but instead he was thinking about another week and a half without enough to distract him from the past.
He was thinking that less than forty-eight hours with Chloe hadn’t been nearly enough.
Reg hadn’t helped. Calling him had been a mistake on Hunter’s part. His old friend’s confession about Duchess had opened a door that should have remained locked.
That horse.
That life.
That home he’d lost forever.
That dream that hadn’t been his to chase.
He missed it all, every single fucking day. He felt disappointed all over again, knowing there was nothing he could do to ever reclaim that opportunity. It was gone forever. Even going to ride Duchess once a month or once a week would just be a kind of hell, reminding him of everything he’d lost.
Chloe heaved a sigh when the cab pulled away from the curb. She placed her hand over his and smiled at him. His chest tightened at the sight of her, so at ease and her eyes filled with stars. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to go through the park first, or straight back to your mom’s?”
She was clearly astonished. “I want to go home with you.”
“No, you don’t,” Hunter argued, even as his chest tightened. “You just said that to piss Josh off.”
“I just said that because it’s true.” Chloe was impatient with the suggestion. “I don’t care what Josh thinks.”
“But...”
“But,” she repeated, giving him a glare. “Are you going to tell me that you’re not interested?”
“Of course, I am, but you’re not my type. I’m not yours either.”
“That’s the point.” She ran her hand down