“Who is it?” she whispered to Philip.
“I don’t know.” His eyes narrowed. “I can’t see where he is.”
Lacey cast a glance at her mother, whose face had gone stiff. Public spectacles were not part of the family code. Lacey had been on the receiving end of that reproof too often. Old South to the core, Margaret had a rigid code of behavior that her daughter had spent her life trying to meet. In this very modern age, Margaret stood for a way of life that had almost vanished. She’d fight for it with her dying breath.
Lacey rubbed one hand across her stomach and took another deep breath. Part of her wanted to push through the crowd and find the man who didn’t understand that such things weren’t done. Part of her wanted to hide.
The pause went on long enough that she thought she was safe, that Philip would win, though she had no doubt how much he’d hate paying the price for a picnic he could have just by asking.
“Going…going—”
“Five thousand.” Same voice. Same deep, decisive tones.
Around them the buzz rose. Her father was staring at Philip, waiting for him to take the lead.
She could see on his face that though pride was involved, pride would only take him so far.
The auctioneer stared at Philip.
Lacey held her breath.
Finally, Philip shook his head.
“Five thousand it is—a record for this event. Five thousand dollars for a gourmet picnic for four provided by our own Lacey DeMille.”
Around them clapping began, along with curious looks. Missy Delavant leaned across Philip with a stage whisper. “Did you get a look at him, Lacey? Do you have something going that we need to know about?”
Lacey recoiled from the woman who’d give anything to get her hooks into Philip. “I have no idea who it is.” She drew herself up in her best Margaret imitation. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to check on some details.”
She cast Philip a glance, seeing disapproval written on his face. A glance at her mother revealed a mirror image. Her father’s eyebrows lifted in dismayed surprise.
The burning in her stomach returned.
Lacey stood very straight and moved toward the front of the room.
Just shy of her destination, a man stepped out of the crowd and blocked her path.
“Hello, Lacey. Long time no see.”
Dev looked down into silvery eyes he’d thought never to see again. Fragile. He hadn’t expected fragile, but she looked like a doe caught by surprise, a sylph poised to melt away in the mists of the forest.
She was beautiful. More beautiful than ever. The woman had more than fulfilled the promise of the girl. Dressed in a column of lavender silk, she wore a slender silver ribbon at her throat, an amethyst pendant glowing against skin pale as camellias. Or white satin.
And he wanted her again. Wanted her still.
Damn it.
She had betrayed him. Had chosen comfort and luxury over love. Had walked away from him without a backward glance and chosen Daddy’s money. Daddy’s approval.
“Dev?”
Those eyes. Her sister’s eyes, he saw now. Silver, with the black ring around the iris. No wonder he’d felt Maddie Gallagher’s draw when he’d first met her, though it would never have occurred to him to make a connection then. Their hair was the same chestnut, though Lacey’s was a short, gamine cut feathering around her delicate features. Maddie’s was long and wild, in tune with her earthy exuberance.
For a moment, Lacey looked almost…vulnerable. Don’t be vulnerable, Lacey. I have news that’s going to shatter your world. You have to be strong.
“Is it really you?” she asked.
That mouth. That impossibly lush mouth, fit more for a courtesan than a Junior Leaguer. It was the other feature she shared with Maddie—and the irony struck him. He’d seen Boone Gallagher’s brain turned to mush more than once by that mouth. He’d been amused.
He was amused no longer.
“Yeah,” he spoke, finally. But his voice was rusty. Hoarse. “It’s me.”
It’s a job, Dev. Just a job. Forget the past. It will only make things worse.
He grinned to cover the rawness he hadn’t expected to feel. “How are you?”
“Why are you here, Dev?”
The inference that he was out of place stung. Anger rode to his rescue. “Don’t worry—I can afford the price of admission now.”
For a fleeting instant, he thought he saw shame flicker in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly, he could easily have imagined it.
When silver eyes turned to frost, he knew he had. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of my donation. It was nice seeing you again, Dev,” she said, as if he were just a casual acquaintance.