“Are you kidding?” Noah’s upper arm muscles grew rigid under her fingertips. “I’d already be climbing the walls if you weren’t with me.” He grabbed two flutes of champagne, handing her one and gulping half of his.
“Hey.” She put her frown in her voice, not her face, aware they were the focus of multiple pairs of curious eyes. “No getting drunk on champagne.” As far as she knew, Noah was always sober in public, but after the motel incident, Kit wasn’t taking any chances.
A stormy, dark gray glance that held echoes of the icy cold with which she’d seen him shut down others.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “Stop being the voice of reason.”
No cold there; he sounded almost sulky.
Lips twitching, she squeezed his arm. “Shall we go say hello to your parents? We can do it quick.”
“No.” With that flat statement, he turned her to the right. “Let’s go talk to Cyril instead. He’s a windbag but a funny one most of the time.”
However, they’d only gone a few feet when Noah was stopped by an older couple who looked very, very blue-blooded.
“Noah,” the lady said with a tight smile that seemed congenital. “It’s good to see you here.”
“Aunt Althea, Uncle Donald.” Ice now, each word dripping with it. “This is Kathleen.”
“Charmed, my dear.” Another prunish pursing of lips from the woman. “My grandchild tells me you’re to be a green… creature in your next movie.”
Kit put light pressure on Noah’s arm when his muscles bunched again. “Yes,” she said with her most dazzling smile, happy to see the male of the pair blink. “It was fun.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Noah said coolly before his aunt could speak again. “I think I see my mother.” As they moved off, he slid away his arm to put his hand on her lower back again. “I’m sorry about that.”
Kit felt her eyes threaten to burn at the protective way he was trying to surround her, subtly angling his big shoulders to cut off those who might interrupt them. “Dear Aunt Althea looks like she walks around with a permanent bug up her butt—I’m not about to take anything she says to heart.”
Not seeing Virginia St. John, she said, “Where’s your mom?”
“Who knows? I just wanted to get away from old Turnip Face.”
Kit’s shoulders shook. “That’s awful.”
“Every time I came home from boarding school, she’d visit and she’d look me up and down like a piece of disappointing meat.”
“I hate her on your behalf.”
His smile reached his eyes. “Can I drink the rest of my champagne?”
“No. You need to keep a clear head so you can outbid everyone without ending up with a hideous souvenir,” she whispered as they reached the long table that held the items up for auction. “Look at that piece. Who thinks that’s art?”
“I think that plate’s worse.” He moved his hand slightly on her back. “Looks like a drunk threw up and decided to capture it in porcelain and paint.”
“Should I help you drive up the bids?” she said mischievously. “Bet we could get this up to at least ten thousand.”
“Aunt Margaret will love you for it.”
“Noah.”
Noah’s spine stiffened at that patrician male voice. Forcing himself to keep his face expressionless, he turned toward a man who looked like an older version of him—except that Robert St. John had shorter hair that had turned a pure white and his face was set in hard lines. Noah’s face could look like that too, but it wasn’t his default face. This was his father’s default—if it wasn’t, Noah didn’t know it, since it was the only face he ever saw.
“Dad,” he said, keeping it civil because Kit was with him. “Where’s Mom?”
“Virginia is speaking to Althea.” Robert turned the glacial gray of his eyes to Kit. “Ms. Devigny, I’m happy to see you here. I know you and Noah have been friends for a long time.”
“I’m delighted to be here with him.”
Robert faced Noah again—except of course, he never quite faced Noah. His gaze was always a little to the left or the right. Robert St. John couldn’t bear to look at the son he’d once proudly called his heir.
“I heard your concert tour was a success.”
“Yes.”
Kit covered the strained silence that followed his curt response. “I attended the New York show, and it was incredible. They blew the roof off.”
“Yes, I hear the band is powerful in concert.” A faint smile. “I wanted Noah to practice law, but as usual, he’s gone his own way.”