Her Best Match: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 1) (11 page)

Suddenly, Margo Milan materialized beside Gherring, locking arms with him. The arrival of the beautiful model brought murmurs from the group. Men jockeyed for the opportunity to meet her and shake her hand, while their wives and dates stared at the willowy woman with flawless olive skin and black silky hair that fell in a straight edgy cut, just brushing her shoulders. Henri smiled at Margo, but made no move to meet her, remaining next to Anne as promised. However, Margo recognized Henri and coaxed Gherring to make introductions. “Steven, you haven’t introduced me to this handsome Frenchman.”

Gherring obliged her, with slight irritation edging his voice. “Margo, this is Henri DuBois. Henri… Margo Milan.”

Henri moved toward Margo, pulling Anne with him. “So nice to meet you, Ms. Milan.” Then in a particularly un-Henri move, he grabbed her hand and gave it a firm shake. “
Je suis enchanté
. Gherring, as always, you find the most beautiful women. Perhaps someday you will learn how to keep them.”

Gherring looked daggers at Henri, while his muscles flexed along his jawline.

Henri continued. “And may I present
mon ange
from Texas, Ms. Anne Best?”

Anne held out her hand, but Margo ignored her, addressing Henri again. “Henri, you are from Paris, right? Perhaps I’ll run into you next month when we do our shoot in France.”

“Perhaps,” said Henri with no enthusiasm. “
S'il vous plait
, if you will excuse us, I am suddenly thirsty.” Henri led Anne away to a table near the bar and snagged two sparkling waters from the waiter’s tray.

“She seemed really interested in you,” Anne said.

Henri rolled his eyes. “Those models, they are too skinny.”

“Ha! I don’t believe you for a moment.”

“Yes, they have sharp bones. The bones, they poke you. Who wants a boney woman?”

“Oh, so you must think I’m fat, then.” Anne accused playfully.

“No, you are perfect, as I tell you with the chocolates. Hmmm… There is one thing I can think. One thing is wrong with you.”

“What’s the one thing?”

“You are too far away from me.”

Anne’s face fell at the mention of the ocean that would soon separate them. “Perhaps you could come back and visit—”

“I mean
now
. You are too far away now. All the way across the table. I like having you stand close to me all night. In fact, I think we should get closer still.”

Anne’s eyes grew wide.

“I think we should dance,” he said.

Anne giggled in relief. “Oh, I don’t think I could dance in these shoes.”

“This song is slow, and I will hold you up.”

Anne glanced at the dance floor near the stage. “There’s no one else dancing.”

“That is even better. If you fall, you will not hurt anyone.” A mischievous smile lit his face. “Come dance,
mon bel ange
.”

Anne felt like a million eyes were watching as she danced with Henri, but gradually, a few couples joined them on the dance floor. He held her right hand between them and pressed her close with his other hand on the small her back. She felt the warmth of his hand on her skin. He whispered in her ear, and she felt intoxicated by the power of his persuasive words.

As she turned in a slow circle, her eyes locked with Steven Gherring’s. He stared intently. What was the emotion in his eyes? Was he angry she’d lied to him? Was he embarrassed his secretary was at this important event with his business associate? Was he disgusted she was going out with Henri, a man that was a source of irritation for him? Henri turned her further and she lost sight of Gherring. Then Henri began to hum the song. His deep voice resonated in his chest, and she felt the vibrations in her own body. She was lost in relaxed reverie, when Henri stopped abruptly.

She looked up, only to see Steven Gherring standing behind Henri. “May I cut in?”

Henri glowered at Gherring. “I do not think the lady desires to change partners.”

Gherring returned the glare and spoke through his clenched teeth. “Well perhaps you should ask the lady in question.”

Both men turned their scowling faces to Anne, who felt as if she might pass out right on the dance floor. Gherring softened his expression. “If you’d do me the honor, Ms. Best? Just one dance?”

“Okay,” Anne hated the shaky sound of her voice.

Henri surrendered her hand to Gherring. “
Qu'une seule fois
. Only one.
Seulement
!” He backed away, keeping his eyes on Anne.

Gherring took her hand in a gentle clasp and placed his hand on her back. Her skin tingled beneath his fingers. His blue eyes gazed so piercingly Anne closed hers to escape them. He started to move in time to the music when Anne stopped him. “Wait… I forgot. I have to tell you something. Before we can dance—”

Gherring’s expression was taut. “What? Tell me.”

Anne blushed. “I can barely stand up in these shoes. You have to move slow and help me keep my balance.”

Gherring’s face broke out in a smile, a rare genuine smile that revealed his deep dimples. “I’ll hold you up. You won’t fall with me.”

He moved her across the dance floor in a slow smooth motion, while she kept her eyes downcast. Anne was intensely aware of his touch. Although he held her firmly, he didn’t press her against him. His firm chest brushed lightly across her as they glided around the floor, every contact searing.

Anne felt light-headed and faltered for a moment. But Gherring reacted quickly, bringing her close as he supported her. Anne’s heart was racing, and she feared Gherring would notice the thudding against his chest. If he noticed, he said nothing.

Why did he ask her to dance? Was he trying to prove something to Henri? Was he making a fool of her? She drummed up the courage to speak to him, to ask him what he was doing. But when she looked up, his gaze held her captive, her breath catching in her throat. She opened her mouth and her lips moved, but no words emerged.

Gherring spoke. “I want you to know…” He paused, a pained look crossing his face. “That—that I enjoyed the dance. Uhmm… very much.”

They’d stopped moving, and Anne noticed a lull in the music. She tried to understand Gherring’s motivation. “But why—”

Henri deftly stepped between the pair, reclaiming her hand. He gave Anne a warm smile, ignoring Gherring completely. “Would you like to dance more? Or sit for a moment?”

“Uhmm, I think I’d like to sit.” Anne took Henri’s arm, but glanced up at Gherring. His expression was inscrutable. “Thanks for the dance, Mr. Gherring.”

“Yes, thank you, Anne. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.” Gherring narrowed his eyes at Henri. “When is your flight back to Paris, Henri? Do you need a lift to the airport?”

Henri stared grimly at Gherring and started to retort, when Anne interrupted. “Actually, Mr. Gherring, I was the person who arranged for Henri’s transportation, along with the other international executives. And I’m sure I can make alternate arrangements in case his flight plans change.”

Henri cracked a smile at Anne.

“So don’t worry about Henri at all, Mr. Gherring. And yes, I’ll see you on Monday, bright and early. No more spa days for me, sir.” Anne thought she detected a slight wince on Gherring’s face at her formal salutation.

Henri led Anne toward the tables. Just as they arrived, Anne looked over her shoulder. Gherring was still standing on the dance floor watching their departure with a sphinxlike expression as other couples swirled around him.

Henri retrieved a glass of wine for himself and a grapefruit soda for Anne. He left her at the table while he went to stand in the buffet line. Anne was contemplating her straw when she heard a familiar voice.

Johanna Klein slipped into a chair beside her. “You must tell me everything. I saw the scene on the dance floor—I must know what has happened.”

Anne told the whole story, starting with the surprise lunch date with Henri, filling in details as Johanna questioned her. When she was explaining how Gherring asked her to dance, she stopped the story.

“Why do you think he asked me to dance?”

“Why do
you
think he asked you?” Johanna questioned.

“I think Gherring still dislikes Henri, even though he explained himself. He still hasn’t forgiven Henri, and I think he was trying to put Henri in his place. He acts like he owns me. Maybe he thinks he’s taking the place of my father, withholding approval of my boyfriends.”

“Hmmm,” Johanna mused. “I believe you may be mistaken. I saw him dancing with you. He did not look at you like a father would.”

“What do you mean?” Anne felt the blood rushing to her face.

“I simply think he could be jealous, don’t you?”

“Jealous? Of me?” Anne was incredulous. “Believe me, you’re wrong. I know the kind of women Gherring likes, and they’re nothing like me. He likes women like… like Margo Milan. Young, sophisticated, beautiful, society types. Women who’ve traveled the world.”

“Perhaps, but you are just as beautiful as that model.”

“No way! But thank you for boosting my forty-five year old ego. I do think I look a lot better than I usually do, thanks to my day at the spa. It took a whole day to look like this. No wonder my five minute beauty routine isn’t very effective.”

Johanna chuckled with Anne about the hard work associated with beauty. Then she leaned close and whispered, “But what about Henri? Are there sparks?”

Anne thought of the warm security she felt as Henri held her close. “Maybe, I’m not sure yet. I’m just cautious because it’s been fifteen years since I even looked at a man like that.” Unbidden, Anne recalled Gherring’s searing touch as they danced. She felt the heat rise to her face.

“Oh, you are blushing. I think there may be sparks after all!”

Henri returned bearing a plate laden with delectable finger foods just as Johanna got up to leave.

“I must go rescue my husband from talking business all night. So glad to have seen you again. I have your email address, so I will keep in touch.” She leaned in to whisper in Anne’s ear. “I have to find out the end of the story.”

When Johanna was gone, Anne realized she was famished. “I don’t think I’ve eaten anything all day!” She gobbled down the hors d’oeuvres quickly.

“Henri, I know it may be none of my business, but will you tell me what Gherring said to you when he talked to you alone. I want to know if y’all talked about me.”

“He wanted to know what my intentions were. And he told me I cannot hurt you.”

“He said that? He actually told you not to hurt me?”

“
Oui
, uhmm,
non
. His words were, ‘If you hurt Anne, I will hurt you!’ I think he was serious.”

“Oh no, I can’t believe he said that.”

“But he did not say what will happen…” He stopped to gaze into Anne’s eyes. “He did not say what will happen if you hurt me.”

“If I hurt you? Why would I hurt you?”

“Because, as I told you, you have captured my heart. What will you do now? With my heart?”

Anne hesitated. How was she supposed to respond? This was exactly the kind of pressure she’d hoped to avoid.

Henri sighed. “He is watching us now.”

Anne glanced over her shoulder to find Gherring gazing their direction from the edge of the crowd.

“He is watching us to be sure I do not hurt you. I will not hurt you, but you may hurt me. I have decided I will risk letting you hurt my heart,
mon ange.
” He bent toward Anne and lightly brushed his lips on hers. She jumped, her eyes wide and startled, her cheeks burning.

“I, uhmm, I’m sorry Henri. I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. I mean a really long time. Like fifteen years long time.”

“That is a really long time,” Henri agreed with a grin. “You have forgotten how? Do you still like to kiss?”

Anne chuckled. “Well, I guess the answer is no—I haven’t forgotten how. And yes—I still like to, I think. But I’m pretty rusty and pretty nervous. And I don’t want to practice here in front of a bunch of people.”

“You do not want to practice in front of the crowd? Or you do not want to practice in front of your boss?”

Anne glanced over her shoulder to where Gherring was glaring. “Uhmm, honestly… both.”

Henri smiled, his green eyes dancing. “Come. I will take
mon bel ange
to a place where there is no crowd and…” He glanced back at Gherring. “And no boss.”

He quickly tucked her arm into his and led her across the ballroom and out the door. As she departed, Anne thought triumphantly she hadn’t lost her balance the entire evening. No trips, no falls. But then she recalled she had indeed felt off balance one time—in the arms of Steven Gherring.

*****

Anne left the ballroom with Henri and, to her surprise, he led her into the hotel elevator. She watched him nervously as the elevator rose higher and higher. “Where’re we going?”