A Cowboy in Manhattan(60)
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t care. Is this the way out?”
She settled in to his pace. “Aren’t you still mad at me?”
“I was never mad.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, a little bit mad. But I shouldn’t have been mad. I guess I’m psychologically delicate. Are we going the right way?”
“As if,” she scoffed. “Take the next right.”
He steered them around a corner into an empty hallway.
The other voices disappeared behind them, and he noticed they were alone. He impulsively backed her into the wall. He searched her expression, finding her more beautiful than ever. “You were amazing out there.”
A genuine smile grew on her face. “You liked the performance?”
“I can’t wait to watch you dance again.”
Still grinning, she scoffed, “There’s no need to go overboard, Reed.”
Instead of responding, he cupped her chin, stilling her motion. He leaned in. “I’m hooked,” he whispered, a split second before his lips touched hers.
Their kiss was instantly passionate, and he pressed his body to hers. Her arms wound around his neck, and he pulled her into a tight full-body hug.
“Reed?” she gasped, clearly struggling for breath.
He forced himself to let her go. He hadn’t meant to maul her in public. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked, dredging up some manners.
She had to have used up a lot of energy out there tonight.
“I am.” She nodded.
“What do you want to eat?” He’d take her anywhere. They could do anything she wanted, as long as it was together.
She blinked once, her dark lashes covering her deep blue eyes, momentarily expanding her pupils. “Room service?”
Everything inside him stilled, then his hand sought hers, tugging her away from the wall, leading her farther down the corridor.
At first, they walked in silence.
“You really liked the performance?” Her tone was slightly hesitant. “Like, truly?”
“I truly loved it,” he answered.
“As in, you’d watch another ballet?”
“If you were in it.” Then he shrugged. “Or if you came to watch with me.”
Though it wasn’t something he’d ever given a moment’s thought to, he’d honestly enjoyed the ballet. He admired the dancing, the choreography, the lighting, the costumes. He liked to think he recognized hard work when he saw it.
“What about the opera?” she asked.
“I’ve never been to the opera.”
“Would you try one?”
“Is this some kind of a test? Are you setting me up for a joke?”
She frowned at him. “Not at all. I like opera.”
“Why?”
They made their way up a back staircase, and a door came into view at the end of a short hallway.
“The music, the pageantry, the stories.”
“Aren’t they in Italian?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t speak Italian.”
“Quello è sfavorevole.”
He tugged her against his side. “You are such a showoff.”
“Unlike you? Who turned my bike into an exercise machine and laughed at me because I was afraid of chickens?”
He paused a beat. “Being afraid of chickens is pretty comical.”
She tipped her head sideways against his shoulder. “You sure you want to mock the woman who’s coming back to your hotel room?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Let me tell you exactly what I want to do to the woman who’s coming back to my hotel room.”
Nine
Every time Reed thought Katrina couldn’t possibly get any more beautiful, she surprised him. Even tonight, at the Liberty Ballet fundraising gala, among the richly dressed, she stood out like a beacon.
Across the room, her updo was smooth, her honey-toned shoulders bare, her slender arms ringed in delicate white sapphire bangles. She wore a matching necklace, gold inset with a trail of tiny white sapphires, while small studs sparkled in her ears. Her dress was snow-white, with a tight bodice liberally trimmed in deep purple piping. It topped a generous tulle skirt adorned with purple appliqué that made her look even more like his princess, or maybe his bride.