Okay, he shouldn’t have said that, but someone had to challenge her bullshit assumptions. Otherwise how would she learn there were men out there who could be trusted?
She flushed redder and made a move sideways, as if she would like to stride firmly away from him. But she seemed to remember that she was the object of scrutiny and stayed where she was.
He sighed. This wasn’t the time to fix whatever it was had happened to her. And he’d managed to set himself back several steps in her estimation in the attempt. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to argue with you.” He reached for her hand, held it loosely. “I’ve been dying to dance with you all night, and now I’m ballsing it up.”
Ellen quickly looked at the crowd around them and apparently decided discretion was the better part of valor. Kane happily took her back into the circle of his arms, and when the band started playing “It Had To Be You,” she didn’t take the opportunity to stop dancing. In fact, with each slight sway of her feet, she moved closer to him, until he could turn his head and breathe in the sweet flowery scent of her hair, just as he’d wanted to a week ago. He could feel her breath against his neck again, and her hand had reached around just far enough to tuck into the waistband of his pants, which he could feel all the way around his torso.
The song ended. Ellen turned drugged eyes on him. “I was fine before I met you,” she said.
“I know you were,” he said, which was true and not true. Whatever it was that made her react to men the way she did was not fine at all. He put his arm around her and brought her to the edge of the dance floor, where she left him to do another round of the tables.
Coffee had been served. People were starting to leave. Barton had taken Darren to meet other colleagues; Jon and Deborah had gone home to the babysitter. Bill Cohen sat with Kane and talked mutual acquaintances. The band played their last song, the waiters began to pick up napkins and glasses, and soon Kane and Bill were the only guests left.
“So,” said Bill, getting to his feet, “does this mean I have to stop teasing Ellen for her monastic life?”
Kane could just imagine how much Ellen loved it when he did that. “I sure hope so,” he said firmly. They shook hands, and Bill left. Kane scowled after him.
Ellen came out of the kitchen and looked around. Her shoulders fell with relief when she locked eyes with him. He got up to meet her in the middle of the room. “You were incredible,” he said. “You made it all look so easy.”
“Thanks,” she said, reaching down to take off her heels. “Oh thank God,” she moaned, rubbing her toes. She instinctively reached out to fix one of the centerpieces but pulled her hand back. She’d finished her last ball; she no longer had to fix anything. “Well,” she said, pulling her hand back, “I’m glad I went out with a bang.” For a second she looked sad, almost... bereft.
They collected her coat from behind reception. He didn’t see Penny. “How did you get here tonight?” he asked. She told him how to get to the garage. “You keep a car in the city?”
Ellen shrugged.
It was a highly sensible Toyota with a GB sticker on the back. When they reached it, she moved from under his arm and ducked down to look underneath it. Then she looked in the windows. “What are you doing?” he said.
Ellen stood up, seemed to come to herself, and blushed. “Nothing, just habit.”
He knew he shouldn’t ask, but she was scaring him. “Did something happen to you? In a parking garage?”
“No. Nothing like that. Nothing happened.” She’d opened her teeny tiny purse and had the car unlocked. “I’ll drive you home if you like.”
“Ellen,” he said. She was suddenly finding the concrete pillar next to her fascinating. “Can you tell me? Who it was?”
She turned on him. “Just because I don’t want to be pawed at doesn’t mean I have some problem for you to fix!”
“Of course it doesn’t,” he said, feeling worse because that was exactly what he’d been thinking. Damn, he was no good at this. Carl was the touchy-feely one. He would have known what to say. “It’s just... I’ve known Darren since we were kids. He wasn’t trying anything, I swear. He was terrified of you; couldn’t you tell? He was trying not to paw at you.”
She stayed rigid for a second; then she looked down and wiped some imaginary dirt from the hood of the car. “Okay, you’ve made your point. Do you want a ride home or not?”
With an offer like that, it was easy to drop the subject. Before he’d got around to the passenger side, she was already leaning over the seat, moving it back to accommodate his legs.
The car was small. Their shoulders kept touching. After she had gotten them out to the street and had the car aimed at the harbor, her shoulders lowered a few inches from the battle-mode she’d been in most of the night.
The car was a stick shift. Kane took hold of her right hand in his left and sighed dramatically each time she had to slap him off to change gears. But it made her laugh, so he kept doing it.
“Why a stick?” he said.
“That’s what you learn on at home. And it was cheaper.” Four years here and she still called England home.
What took twenty minutes to walk took only seven by car. On his instructions, she drove to the underground parking lot. At the gate, Kane leaned over her and said to the guard, “This is Ms. Hunter. I’m going to give her my second keycard, okay?” And the guard said, “Sure, Mr. Fielding,” smiled at Ellen, and wrote down her license plate.
She found the spot he pointed out to her. Put the emergency brake on. Stared at the steering wheel.
“Thank you,” he said.
She looked at him. “You really piss me off sometimes.”
