The Missing Heir(13)

                “Right,” he drawled.

                She didn’t want to have this debate. “Thank you for the dance, Cole.”

                His expression turned serious. “I did it again, didn’t I? Stuffed my foot in my mouth?”

                “Not at all. I am tired, and I really appreciate you escorting me across the ballroom. It was going to take hours at the rate I was going.”

                “I’ll get you to the front doors,” he offered.

                “That’s not necessary.”

                “It’s my pleasure.” His hand dropped to the small of her back. “I’ll glower at anyone who tries to talk to us along the way.”

                She couldn’t help but smile at that. And, to be truthful, it did seem like a prudent course of action. The lobby and foyer were full of people. Her name and face had been in the news for the past three weeks, so she was easily recognized.

                “Then, thank you,” she told him.

                “Let’s go.”

                He picked up the pace, drawing her across the mezzanine floor lobby and down two sets of elevators. People stared as they passed but didn’t approach them. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he’d consider a permanent gig as her escort. This was certainly more pleasant than her trek into the event.

                “The doorman will get me a cab,” she told Cole as they came to the glass front.

                “No need. I have a car right here.”

                “Cole—”

                “And a driver,” he finished, moving through the front door. “I’m not plotting to get you alone. I’ll get you home safe and sound, nothing else.”

                As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she felt its cold hardness through the dancing slippers, and her memory kicked in. “My shoes.” She turned. “I left my shoes upstairs.”

                “I’ll go back for them,” he offered. “You don’t need to walk all that way again.”

                “Taxi, sir?” the doorman inquired.

                “I’ve got a car waiting,” Cole answered, handing the man a tip. “A sedan for Aviation 58.”

                “I’ll have it brought around,” the doorman answered.

                “I can’t take your car,” said Amber. How had this gotten so complicated?

                “Where are you going?” asked Cole.

                “Fifth Avenue and Eighty-Ninth.”

                “It’ll only take ten minutes to get you there.”

                A black car pulled up in front of them and Cole opened the door.

                Amber decided to go with the flow. The sooner she got going, the sooner she’d be home with Zachary. She climbed in, and Cole shut the door behind her.

                But before they pulled away, he surprised her by hopping in the other side.

                “I thought you were going back for my shoes.”

                “I’ll do that after we get you home. Fifth Avenue and Eighty-Ninth,” he said to the driver.