Trey appeared in front of him. “We’re going in. You’ll be okay here?”
“Yes,” Cayden said, biting back on the sarcastic remark that popped into his head. He watched Trey and Beth duck through the door at the back of the room, and he took another crab cake when the tray came around again.
He’d just finished it when Ginny exited the room where Trey had gone.
Cayden got to his feet without even knowing that he had. He soaked in the sight of Virginia Winters, sparks flying through his whole body.
Beth had been wrong; the reminder wasn’t for Ginny. It was for him.
Go talk to her, he commanded himself. He had to talk to her tonight. He had to explain that he’d gone silent because of her mother.
He couldn’t believe he’d cared what Wendy Winters thought of him. He couldn’t believe he’d given up the curvy, gorgeous woman currently smiling at a couple of men. Ginny wore an elegant off-white dress with plenty of lace everywhere. Her dark hair had been piled up on top of her head and secured with glinting gems that probably cost more than most people made in their entire lifetimes.
Her heels made her legs tight and slender, and Cayden’s mouth turned dry.
It was her eyes that always captured him, and as she laughed and looked his way, he caught sight of those navy blue pools that pulled him in every time.
He knew the moment she saw and recognized him. The smile slipped from her face, and her eyes widened.
One hand flew to her mouth, which had dropped open, and then lowered to press against her chest. Her dress had wide straps that went over her shoulders and left a lot of skin to be observed.
Cayden couldn’t move, though he wanted to. He could at least wave or something to indicate to her that he’d seen her. If he could just get his blood to stop burning him up from the inside out, he’d go talk to her.
Ginny had frozen too, and then she seemed to shake herself. Her masks flew into place, and she took a step toward him—and collided with a waiter carrying a full tray of sea bass and tomato canapés.
2
Virginia Winters had ruined many dresses in her lifetime. None as spectacularly and as publicly as the Victoria James gown she currently wore. She never wore a formal dress more than once, but that didn’t mean she wanted tomatoes, balsamic, and fish juice embedded in the lace.
She certainly didn’t want it to happen in front of anyone, least of all Cayden Chappell, who now loomed above her as if he’d sprinted across the drawing room to be there for her when she first opened her eyes and realized what had happened.
What had happened was that she’d been so entranced by his presence that she hadn’t looked at anyone or anything but him. She’d run into a waiter carrying a full tray of canapés, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. She’d shown too much leg to everyone within the near vicinity, and she’d ruined her twenty-thousand-dollar dress.
Her hair brushed her face, and she realized she’d ruined that too. Embarrassment heated her whole body, and she watched Cayden’s mouth move but no sound come out. Around her, everyone seemed to be looking at her with equally alarmed expressions, and Ginny wanted to tell them to back up and let her breathe.
Cayden reached out and touched her face, brushing that errant hair back. “…can you hear me?” Cayden’s voice finally broke through the haze in her mind.
“Yes,” she said, and sound rushed at her from every side. She couldn’t grasp onto any one thought, and her mind raced through what she should do now. Change her clothes and come back to the party? Call it a night?
Just get out of here, she thought, and when Cayden asked, “Can I help you up, Ginny?” she put her hand in his, sparks flying up her arm and into her shoulder.
She looked at him, and so much was said between them. Her chest pinched, though, because he hadn’t called.
She managed to get to her feet, pull down her dress, and wipe back her hair.
“Which door?” Cayden asked her, his voice low and meant only for her. She could still hear her name coming from his mouth, and he’d spoken it with a great deal of care.
“Straight ahead,” she said, nodding to the door dozens of paces away. If she could just make it there, she could figure out what to do. “I’m sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder to the waiter still trying to clean up the things she’d spilled.
Cayden kept the pace brisk, and Ginny pushed to keep up with him. “I feel so stupid,” she muttered, the feeling intensifying when he didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
Yeah, she thought dryly.Like all those times you thought that maybe he’d forgotten your phone number.
Or that he’d gotten a new phone.
Then had a complete memory lapse and couldn’t remember where she lived and worked.
In her most desperate moments, she’d even started to think he’d been in a terrible accident and was in a coma in a nearby hospital.