A staffer from the Brighter NOLA foundation hurried toward Dempsey to pin a flower to his jacket and update him on the guest list so far. He thanked her and waved the woman off as the Land Rover arrived in front of the carpet.
He didn't care about protocol, so he didn't wait for Evan to open Adelaide's door. Dempsey tugged open the handle himself and extended a hand to...
Wow.
All thoughts of guests, players and philanthropy vanished at the sight of Adelaide. She wore a pink dress that might possibly be described as "lace," but it was a far cry from a granny's doily. Beaded and shimmering, the gown hugged her curves all over. It wasn't low cut. It was long-sleeved and it fell to her toes. Yet the lace effect made strategic portions of her honey-toned skin visible right through the rosy-toned mesh. Her thighs, for example. The indentations above her hips.
Intellectually, he'd always known she was an attractive woman. Of course he had. He wasn't blind. But maybe her workday wardrobe had helped minimize an appeal that damn near staggered him now. With an effort, he dragged his attention away from her body to meet her gaze.
Only to find a simmering heat there that matched his own.
This engagement charade of his was feeling far too real. And if he wasn't careful, he would end up following that heat where it led and hurting Adelaide in the process. That was the last thing he wanted.
The very last thing he could afford.
"You look beautiful." He tugged her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to escort her inside.
She smelled fantastic. Like night-blooming roses. Her hair was gathered at the back of her head, some of it coiled and braided, with strands left loose to curl around her face. She wore her waist-length hair up most days, wound into a simple knot. The soft curls trailing to the middle of her back made him wonder when was the last time he'd seen her with her hair let down.
"Thank you." She kept a tight hold on a beaded pink purse, the engagement ring he'd produced for her glinting on her left hand. "And thank you for the ring," she added softly, for his ears only as they walked toward the entrance behind slow-moving attendees meeting and greeting one another. "I've never seen anything so gorgeous."
He'd ordered it immediately after announcing the engagement to ensure the custom design would be crafted in time for tonight's party. He hated that he'd had to have it shipped to her at the house instead of giving it to her in person, however.
Then again, with their roles feeling a little too real, it was probably for the best he hadn't personally slipped that big yellow diamond onto her finger.
"Adelaide!" someone on the street called out to her, and she halted. Turned.
A camera flash popped nearby as a woman snapped a photo of them.
"Are you aware that Valentina Rushnaya will be attending tonight's event?" the photographer shouted over the trumpet music and din of nearby conversation.
Dempsey tensed, ready to respond. Addy beat him to it.
"How kind of her to support a Brighter NOLA future." Adelaide smiled as she lifted a hand to his chest and tipped her head to his shoulder as if they were a couple in love.
Was she simply posing for another photo? Or showing off the ring?
He followed her lead, kissing the top of her head possessively before ushering her toward the door.
"Nicely done." He wished he could pull her into a dark corner and talk to her. Make sure she was solid going into this event if Valentina truly put in an appearance. But there was no time now as people were already headed their way. "Let's stick together for the first half hour."
"Of course." She smiled her public smile, already waving to one of their biggest donors. "But you're dancing with me tonight," she warned him. "It's the perk of being your fiancée."
Normally, Dempsey worked the floor of a fund-raiser with precision, glad-handing the necessary parties and then leaving, never giving in to Adelaide's invitations to stay longer and have fun. But this was his foundation and he was here for the long haul.
"The perk is all mine." The words fell out of his mouth before they were surrounded by well-wishers, potential patrons and community bigwigs.
Dempsey noticed Adelaide went into work mode as quickly as he did, but his focus was nowhere near his usual level. Even as he made conversation, his thoughts went back to those moments on the red carpet with Adelaide. The way she'd looked when she stepped from the Land Rover and every soul in Jackson Square had let out a collective breath. The way she'd curled against him when that photographer wanted a picture, as though she'd been born to be in his arms.
The idea bothered him.
There was no doubt in his mind that Adelaide looked different tonight, from how she wore her hair to that dress of hers that was killing him. And as the night wore on, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He wondered who she was talking to and if they noticed that she looked like a walking fantasy. Part of him wanted confirmation that something about her had changed, but another part of him wanted to make sure every other man in the building wasn't looking at her, because he didn't want anyone else thinking about her thighs.
Maybe he really had been blind all those years they'd just been friends.
Two hours into the event, the night seemed to be running smoothly enough. Casino tables had opened around the rooms blocked off for the party. The red walls and decadent furnishings of Muriel's legendary Séance Lounge made an appealing backdrop for blackjack as the crowd loosened up. The gaming was strictly to raise money for Brighter NOLA. It was so packed that guests stood out on the balconies in the heat, snapping photos of themselves with Jackson Square in the background. The dance floor was filled and the band-as always in this town-sounded fantastic.
He was about to seek out Adelaide when a feminine voice purred in his right ear.
"My lone wolf looks on edge tonight." The low tone and soft consonants of Valentina's Russian accent made him tense.
Turning, he avoided her attempt to kiss his cheek.
"If I'm on edge, it's only because you've taken up the valuable time of my staff with empty threats and games." He gave her a level look, noting that her barely there silver gown was completely over-the-top for a charity event that raised funds for underprivileged and at-risk youths.
"Your staff? Or your fiancée?" She tossed her head in a dismissive gesture meant to be insulting.
Dempsey had to smother a mirthless laugh because-damn it to hell-Adelaide had been correct about him dating theatrical women in slinky gowns. When had he become such a cliché?
"Both." He was grateful they stood in the shadows, since he didn't need photos of them together showing up in the paper. "And I trust the only reason you're here is to write a big, fat check to the foundation, since we specifically agreed to go our separate ways."
"Agreed? There was no agreement!" She pulled a glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray and helped herself to a long sip. "You dictated every detail of our time together, and then disappeared before my bed even had time to cool down-"
"Ms. Rushnaya, how beautiful you look." Adelaide appeared at his side, slipping an arm through his. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but, Dempsey, we did promise a quick word with the representative from Town and Country before they leave."
She nodded meaningfully toward the other side of the room.
"Of course." He had always counted on Addy for well-timed interruptions, and she delivered yet again. Still, he didn't like that she'd overheard the bit about running out of Valentina's bed. He didn't treat women that way. "Please excuse us."
"Yes, do take your turn with Town and Country." Valentina emptied her glass and set it on a nearby table, her movements unsteady. "I have my own press to speak with, Dempsey."
She turned on her heel to march away, right toward a woman who had a camera aimed at them. Again.
"Dempsey." Adelaide laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her, commanding his attention before the camera flashed. "There isn't actually an interview," she confided. "I was just trying to give you some breathing room."
The look in her hazel eyes stole all his focus. Or maybe it was the gentle press of her breasts as she arched closer.
"Thank you." How many times had she served as a buffer for him with the media or with football insiders he didn't particularly like? She ran interference like a pro.