e was acting interested, just bored enough to prove he was a man, but infinitely polite as Wilma drew them into the ballroom where the guests would be escorted.
The Dunmore ballroom was huge. Chandeliers dripping with crystal hung from the high ceiling. It was large enough to hold hundreds of guests, and even more with the doors to the gardens thrown open as they were now.
The band was positioned just outside the open glass doors at one end of the ballroom. The cool evening air wafted through the cavernous room as it seemed to echo with the anticipation that put a bounce in Wilma’s step.
The older woman had already dressed in her party finery. The lace and silk swished as she walked, her still slender figure exuding grace and pride.
Wilma familiarized Emily with the setup with precise details. As they were going over the last of the plans, guests began to arrive and the band started setting up.
Kell’s expression hadn’t changed, but Emily felt the watchful tension grow in him as the ballroom began to fill up, the caterers and waiters began moving into place. By eight o’clock the party was in full swing.
Silk suits, officer’s uniforms, and a variety of ball gowns milled about the room. Champagne was flowing freely and the large marble patio was beginning to fill up with couples moving in time to the music.
Her father still hadn’t arrived, and Emily was beginning to feel the effects of smiling at people she either didn’t know, or knew too well to like.
That was one of the reasons she hated these events. She knew the backstabbers and the hangers-on and they drove her insane.
As her gaze swept over the crowd from one of the small gatherings she stood at, Emily felt a real smile begin to shape her lips as she watched a familiar form enter the ballroom.
“What is she doing here?” Kell leaned forward to ask curiously.
“Her uncle is Jason Maclane, the head of a multinational legal firm. She attends some of the parties at his request, gathers gossip, and relays it back. In exchange, he keeps her in the style she likes to be accustomed to,” Emily answered. “Kira is nothing if not practical when it comes to acquiring her bling.”
“Emily. Baby. This party is bursting at its seams.” Kira smiled as she kissed her cheek gracefully then drew back. “And that bruiser behind you looks as good as ever.”
The bruiser in question was watching Kira thoughtfully, his deep green eyes intent and considering.
Dressed in a figure-hugging black sheath that fell to the floor and displayed a provocative amount of breast, Kira looked fantastic. Her black hair flowed down her back in rich curls and gleamed with a raven’s-wing sheen Emily had always envied, and her gray eyes sparkled with laughter.
“The bruiser thanks you,” Kell commented wryly as his hand cupped Emily’s hip and drew her back against him.
He had been doing that all evening. Little touches. Soft looks. Heated looks. And more than once, purely hot, sexy looks. But he always remained circumspect in how he touched her or held her against him.
“I see our brooding neighbor Ian Richards is here as well.” Kira scanned the ballroom, her gaze moving quickly to where Ian stood against the far wall. “That man was not meant to be a wallflower, Emily. In no way, shape, or form.”
Emily winced. She knew that tone. Kira was interested.
“He just has the darkest, brooding sensuality.” Kira sighed, turning back to Emily with a secretive little smile. “Don’t you think so?”
He looked damned dangerous. Like a man she wouldn’t have approached for a million bucks.
“She thinks he’s ugly as a mud stick,” Kell drawled in amusement. “She doesn’t see any man other than me.”
His tone was teasing but Emily felt a small start of surprise. He sounded like a “real” lover. Like a man who intended to stick around for a while. A man who was invested in a relationship. Like a man whose heart belonged to her rather than a woman and a child he had lost years before.
“You’re cute, but not that cute,” Kira informed him with a flirtatious wrinkle of her nose. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to grab a glass of champagne and see if I can convince that tough hard, body to join me on the dance floor.”
“Better find the whiskey if you’re going to tempt him into anything.” Kell chuckled. “Ian doesn’t do champagne very often.”
Kira waggled her brows, then with a little wave of her fingers she headed across the ballroom.
“Tell me, does she have a chance?” Emily asked thoughtfully as she glanced at Ian. He was watching Kira, his brows lowered, his expression forbidding.
“At what? Sex or love?” Kell asked thoughtfully. “Sex, yes. Love, I sincerely doubt it.”
“I doubt she’s looking for love.” Emily sighed as she turned back to him. “What are you looking for, Kell?”
She wished she could take back her words. Wished she could erase the need to know.