The Wife Who Knew Too Much(26)

The wind picked up. He rested his hand lightly on her bare back, and she shivered.

“Are you cold? You’re shaking. C’mere.”

He put his arm around her and drew her close. She thought he was making a move, but he just gave her a friendly squeeze.

“I’ve monopolized you long enough. I should get you back,” he said.

She was surprised at how disappointed she felt. He helped her to her feet. When they got back to the party, she wasn’t ready to let him go. She held on to his arm, taking him with her as she mingled, introducing him to people he wouldn’t’ve gotten close to otherwise. A Pulitzer-winning novelist. A TV star with a huge Instagram following. The editor of a culturally significant magazine. She told everyone that Connor was her publicist, which had the virtue of being true, but was beside the point. Mingling with him on her arm had no official purpose. She wanted to show him what she could offer. Not just great wealth. Access. Connections.

The massive fireworks display had just ended. With the smell of sulfur hanging in the air, Nina bid her guests good night from the bandstand. People began making their way down the paths to the front of the house, where the valets waited to fetch their cars. She’d spent the past two hours with Connor by her side and hadn’t gotten tired of him. Normally, after a party, she’d feel drained, and need to be alone. She felt the opposite—energized, reluctant to let him go.

“Stay a little longer. Are you hungry? The caterers left a feast in the kitchen,” she said.

“I’d love to, but—”

He really had the most extraordinary eyes. She noticed them as he looked past her, across the terrace, to where Lauren stood watching them with a resentful look.

So, it was true.

“Lauren’s waiting for you, I take it?”

“She’s my ride. Living in the city, I don’t own a car.”

“Sure.”

“That’s all it is. You know Levitt Global has a nonfraternization policy.”

Nina raised an eyebrow. “Which everybody follows to a T.”

“Now who’s listening to gossip?”

She had no right to be jealous, but she was. Lauren was around forty, closer in age to Connor than Nina was. A sultry brunette, she looked fabulous in her body-skimming red dress and sky-high heels. That’s who Connor was going home with tonight. It wouldn’t do for Nina to seem like she cared.

“Get in touch with Juliet. She’ll set up a meeting to discuss your PR ideas. Have a great night, regards to Lauren,” she said, pecking him on the cheek dismissively.

“You know what. I can Uber back to the city. Let me just tell her.”

She watched him go over to Lauren, and saw the poisonous look on her face. Lauren would now believe Nina had stolen a second man from her. Though, Nina herself didn’t know what would happen next. Maybe something, maybe nothing. She’d keep her driver standing by to take Connor home. It was three hours easy back to the city. Late at night on the Fourth, that Uber would be an expensive proposition for an assistant director of publicity. If he ended up going home at all.

Nina dismissed the housekeeper, and they sat at the island in the vast kitchen, eating cold lobster and drinking champagne. She told him funny stories about people he’d met at the party, including a well-known music producer, who’d seemed to take a liking to Connor.

“Too bad I didn’t meet him a decade ago.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s not too late. So, let’s hear it. Sing me something,” she said. But he just laughed.

“Seriously. You claim you were on the way to becoming a rock star. Show me. Sing me a song.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I mean it. Indulge me.”

“Ah, all right. Let’s see. How ’bout this? ‘If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady—’”

His voice was pure and clear, and the words went straight to her heart. But there was a sly grin on his face, like the song was a joke to him.

“Don’t laugh. It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“Ah, it’s sappy. You’re too easy on me.”

She was easy on him. When he asked for a tour of the house, she was happy to oblige. They spent half an hour wandering the first floor, starting in the ballroom, where the food had been set up tonight. It had sixteen-foot ceilings and an abandoned air, with the caterer’s tables gone and the rug still rolled up. They wandered through parlors, fingers grazing, laughing and talking intimately. She pointed out paintings and told him the provenance of the antiques. He knew a surprising amount about art. In the wood-paneled library, he sat down beside her on a window seat. She was in the middle of a sentence when he leaned in and kissed her lingeringly on the lips. She closed her eyes. The kiss went to her head.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ve been working up my courage to kiss you, and finally got there,” he said.

“Am I that scary?”

“Not scary. Exquisite, untouchable. Like a perfect marble statue come to life.”

It bothered her that he’d chosen words frequently used to describe her in the press. Was that a coincidence, or had he been reading up on her?

“So cold? I promise, I’m not untouchable. See?”

She took his hand and put it on her chest, just above her heart. His eyes glazed as he stared at the neckline of her dress, inching his hand down to the curve of her breasts. It wasn’t like her to go to bed with someone she’d just met. She was too private. But she wanted him enough to change her ways.