“I don’t want to get on the photographer’s bad side.” Ruth stood up. “Or Helen’s. I’ll see you in a little while. Where do you want to meet?”
“I’ll wait for you near the donation box out front.”
***
Warren sipped his Manhattan and watched people stroll in and out of the hotel lobby. Ruth had disappeared with the rest of the wedding party when they arrived. And while he’d seen several people from the church, Ruth hadn’t yet reappeared. He assumed the wedding party was still doing pictures. Most couples who held their receptions at the hotel did their photos outside with the harbor in the background. If the weather didn’t allow it, they took them by the indoor pool with its cascading waterfall and exotic plants. They had to be almost finished with pictures. His watch read ten of three, and the staff at the hotel liked events to stay on schedule.
“Mr. Sherbrooke, I didn’t know you would be visiting us today.” A tall balding man he didn’t recognized approached him. “I’m Jeffery Primrose, the manager on duty today.” The man extended his hand.
“It is nice to meet you, Jeffery.”
“Will you be staying with us long? The penthouse suite is available. I can get you checked in right away.”
Warren scanned the area before he looked back at the manager. “No. I’m not staying. Just meeting a friend here.”
“In that case is there anything I can get for you? Another drink or perhaps something to eat while you wait.”
He glanced over Jeffery’s shoulder as Ruth and another member of the wedding party walked down the hall. Over the years he’d seen her dressed in everything from shorts and skirts to jeans and her nurse’s uniform, but he’d never seen her decked out like she was today. Although the gown had long sleeves and reached the floor, it left her shoulders bare. The deep burgundy complimented her complexion, and he’d noticed on the drive how it drew out the red highlights in her dark hair.
“Mr. Sherbrooke?”
When he heard the manager, he realized he’d been silent for too long. “I’m fine. But you have guests by the name of William and Helen Lee staying here tonight. Please have a bottle of Perrier-Jouet Champagne delivered to their room this evening following their reception.” Since he didn’t know the couple’s exact tastes, he selected one of his favorite champagnes.
“I will arrange it right away, Mr. Sherbrooke. Can I do anything
else for you?”
“That’s all for now. If I require anything else I will let you know, Jeffery. Thank you.” He pulled his gaze away from the vision walking toward him. “If you will please excuse me, my friend has arrived.” Warren heard the manager utter a reply, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he headed in Ruth’s direction.
The smile she gifted him with told Warren she’d spotted him. After saying something to her friend, she walked toward him while her friend headed in the direction of the restroom. “Sorry that took so long. The photographer just kept taking pictures. I lost count of how many times he put in a new roll of film.”
“Don’t worry about it. It gave me a chance to grab a drink.” He took a step closer, invading her personal space. “Can I get you anything?”
With her so close, all he wanted was to reach out and touch her, to see if the skin on her shoulders and neck was as smooth as it appeared. Once he satisfied that desire, he wanted to place his lips on her neck and leave a trail of kisses up to her lips. He couldn’t do either tonight, not in such a public place. Maybe if he knew what her reaction would be, he’d drag her into a secluded corner, give into his desires, and risk getting caught by a hotel guest or employee. But he didn’t know what she would do. That left him one option. He had to wait. Tomorrow night they’d be alone. If she told him she didn’t have any feelings for him, there would be no one around to witness it. And if she returned his affections, they would be alone to do whatever they pleased.
“I’m okay for now. Why don’t we go sit down? Dinner should start soon.”
Warren gave into his need to touch her and placed his hand on her lower back. “Is the reception in the Bellevue Room?” The hotel contained three ballrooms, the Bellevue Room being the most popular.
Ruth nodded and walked alongside him. “People have noticed you’re here,” she said. “I hope this doesn’t cause any problems for you.”
He heard the concern in her voice. The American public was obsessed with his family. While there were many other wealthy families in the United States, it was his family that drew the most attention from the media, and he didn’t know why. He’d asked his grandmother about it when he was eleven or twelve, but she hadn’t given him a satisfactory answer. For a long time after that, he tried to figure it out. Now, he didn’t think about it. Rather he accepted it as part of his life. “It won’t.”
At least that was the answer he gave her. If his father learned about his date with Ruth via the media rather than him, he’d get a phone call and most likely a summons home. His parents already had the perfect woman picked out for him.
Even though he could only recall speaking to Tracey Nashua three times in his entire life, his parents decided after his last failed relationship that he should marry her once he finished his MBA. He’d flat out told them he wasn’t interested in Tracey. Although he had spent little time with her, they traveled in the same social circles, and he’d heard enough about her to know a marriage would never work.
“I really hope not.” Ruth stopped and picked up their place card from the table in the hall. “We’re at table five. Helen put me with Mitch, her brother in-law. She’s determined to get us together, even though I keep telling her I’m not interested in him.”
Warren kept his hand on her back as they walked among the numbered tables and ignored the stares other guests sent his way. “She’s not having a head table with the wedding party?”
Ruth waved at someone across the room before she stopped at their table. “Helen didn’t want one. She said it was too old-fashioned, and I’m glad she decided not to. I always feel like everyone is watching me eat when I have to sit in front of everyone.”
“I know what you mean.” He pulled out a chair for her. When she sat, his hands dropped to her shoulders, his brain no longer in control. Her skin beneath his palms was just as smooth and warm as he’d imagined.
“Her mom wasn’t happy with the idea.” Ruth reached for her water glass. “They were still arguing about the arrangement last week.”
He didn’t want to move his hands, but he couldn’t stand there all night either. “Some people think there is only one right way to do things. They’re not open to change.” He slid his hands away. “All the weddings I’ve attended have had head tables, but I think I prefer it this way.” Warren took his seat. “It is the bride and groom’s day. They deserve to be the center of attention.”