When You Are Mine(19)

"Cam said you went to New York before you came back. How was that?"

"It was work." He pulled shutters down over his face.

"What's that look?"

"What look?"

"Your face. You look … kind of mean."

"Oh, that. Work. My dad." He made a conscious effort to relax his facial  muscles. "He brings out the worst in me because I have to be like him  to deal with him."

"And how's that?"

"A narcissistic, mercenary douche bag."

"I can see that." She nodded, teasing him with a smile.

"Oh, you can? How about this?" He ran his fingers mercilessly and  surreptitiously up her ribs, making her erupt in laughter. "Can you see  this?"

She dipped her head to his shoulder, still fighting laughter. Several dancers turned in their direction.

"Stop, Walsh."

He refused, leaving her gasping, wriggling, and squeezing her eyes shut.

"People are looking at us."

"They can't help themselves. You're the most beautiful thing in this room."

Kerris sobered, standing still and pulling away when the music conveniently stopped.

"I'm sorry." He was only sorry because he'd made her pull away. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay." She offered a papier-mâché smile, fragile and stiff. "Every girl loves a compliment."

"What was so funny?" Jo stepped into the conversation like she owned it, followed closely by Sofie.

"I was telling Kerris about my father." Walsh took half a step back from  Kerris, governing his features before looking at Jo and Sofie.

"What a great man." Sofie twisted the diamond bracelet around her narrow wrist. "I've always loved Uncle Martin."

Jo snorted, exchanging a quick look with Walsh. He knew exactly what she  was thinking. Sofie wouldn't score any points with him complimenting  his father.

"Walsh, that man over there wanted you to come see him after you were  done … dancing." Sofie said the last word as if Kerris and Walsh had been  grinding in the middle of the ballroom dance floor, her mouth twisted  with distaste.                       
       
           



       

"Which man?" Walsh followed the direction of Sofie's finger. "Oh, Mr.  Donovan. He's a big fish. Let me go over there and see if I can close  this deal. I'll be back, ladies."

Walsh didn't allow himself one last look at Kerris. He didn't want to  see the mask she'd pulled in place now that they weren't alone. He hated  what she was hiding. Hated it because he had to hide it, too.





Chapter Fourteen



Walsh walked toward the silver-haired gentleman Kerris had seen him  talking with during dinner, leaving her alone with Jo and Sofie. Jo had  been watching Kerris like she was the last clue on the crossword puzzle  you could never figure out. The tickle session on the dance floor with  Walsh probably hadn't helped. Jo had eyes you couldn't hide from. Not  for the first time, Kerris wondered if everything she was trying to  hide, Jo could clearly see.

"That dress is lovely, Kerris." Sofie addressed the words to her French manicure. "Where'd you get it?"

"It's vintage." Kerris hated the note of uncertainty she heard in her  own voice. She lifted her chin in a show of pride she didn't feel.

"Is that what they call it? So quaint." Sofie tossed a chunk of  silvery-blond hair over one shoulder. "And how bold of you to wear  something that … modest when all the other women are dressed … differently. I  just admire you. I mean, you obviously have never been in an  environment like this, and you're just conducting yourself so well."

Kerris noticed Jo widen her eyes at Sofie's insulting tone and comments.  Kerris zipped her mouth into a fine line, holding back her own retort.  Her palms itched to smack Sofie. She balled her fingers into the  delicate fabric of her second-hand finery, crushing the material.

"Thank you." Kerris looked around the room for an escape, not sure if  she was saving herself or the rude woman standing in front of her. "I  think I'll go find Cam."

"He was talking outside with some of the guys smoking cigars," Jo said, sympathy apparent on her face.

Kerris didn't want sympathy or pity or whatever had her cheeks burning.  She wanted out. She slipped off, stiffening her back against the urge to  slump her shoulders. She had survived too much for someone like Sofie  to break her, but she still felt the blows and wanted to lick the wounds  in private.

She walked through the French doors, stepping down onto the  dew-moistened lawn and heading for the gazebo. She slipped off her  shoes, hooking the flimsy straps over her index finger. Glancing over  her shoulder, she watched the clusters of glittering people chatting and  laughing with one another in the makeshift ballroom. Her insides still  stung from Sofie's acid-tipped talons. She'd painted Kerris as some  shabbily dressed misfit.

Who was she kidding? That's exactly what she was.

Kerris wanted to go home, take off her Goodwill dress, curl up in her  kimono, and fall asleep with the scraps of her dignity and confidence.  She settled onto the bench inside the gazebo, leaning back to admire the  delicate latticework trimming its frame.

Kerris blew a cool breath out, air hissing across her lips until her chest hollowed out and her body drained of the tension.

"That bad, huh?" a deep voice asked from the shadows.

Kerris's head jerked toward the familiar baritone, narrowing her eyes in the dim light just beyond the steps of the gazebo.

"Walsh?" His name rested on her lips, mixed with hope and dread. "Where'd you … how did you … "

"I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay."

He stepped onto the platform and into the light cast by the small lanterns suspended from the ceiling.

She blinked against the sight of him, the sharp planes of his face  softened in the glow to a beautiful symmetry she could have looked at  all day. Their eyes held too long before she made herself look away. Her  tongue felt twice its normal size in the dried out cave of her mouth.  Delighted panic knifed through her. Her fingers played Twister in her  lap.

"I'm fine." Kerris answered the question in his eyes.

"You could've fooled me."

"I thought you were closing a deal."                       
       
           



       

"Check's in the mail. Now stop trying to change the subject. You sure you're okay?"

"I just … " She hesitated, looking up at him, lowering her eyes again, weighing how much she should tell him.

"You just … " He prompted.

He sat, scooting until he could rest his back against the wall and pull  his knees up, feet on the bench. She felt his eyes on her profile.

Tonight had conspired with her past to pound her confidence into a fine powder.

"I don't belong."

"Belong where?"

"Here. In there." She smoothed the silky material of her dress with a sweat-moistened hand. "With those people."

"That's ridiculous." He leaned forward a little, resting an arm on his knee. "What makes you say that?"

"Everyone is haute couture in there."

She hoped she didn't sound as miserable as she felt in that room with  the glitterati. She had thought she was doing fine until Sofie reminded  her of why she always hated these parties.

"I'm Goodwill. My dress is from Goodwill, Walsh."

"Let me get this straight." Walsh's mouth hitched up at the corner in  the smallest of wry smiles. "After all you've endured with so many odds  stacked against you, you're out here alone because of your outfit?"

"Well, when you say it like that-"

"Is belonging so important?"

"It would be hard to find anyone who ‘belonged' more than you." She  heard the bitterness in her own voice. Despite all she'd experienced,  cynicism sat on her like an ill-fitting jacket, gaping under the arms  and sagging at the shoulders. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me. Tell me."

She rationed her breaths for a few moments, asking herself if she actually could tell someone.

"I come from nothing." A lock of hair had escaped the knot at the back  of her head, and she pulled it over her shoulder, giving her something  to do with restless fingers. "I mean, you know I'm an orphan."

Walsh only nodded, eyes moving from the hair resting on her shoulder back to her face.

"I wasn't like Cam. His mom was … awful. Negligent. Horrible, but at least  she tried for a while. I don't know if that ended up being a blessing  or a curse, but my mom left me on the porch of an orphanage like a bag  of old clothes."

Kerris swallowed, searching for courage behind her closed eyelids.