Even though she gazed at the view while they waited for the valet to bring around Scott’s car, her thoughts remained fixed on the man standing next to her. Much of the nervousness she’d experienced both in her kitchen and during the car ride had disappeared. Since the moment he picked her up, he’d been not only a perfect gentleman but also humorous and easygoing. He’d picked up on how uncomfortable she was in the beginning and immediately set out to put her at ease. Not everyone was able to do that. And she never expected he’d be one of the few who could.
Prior to tonight, she’d expected Scott to be more like her cousin Nolan Wakefield. Like all her cousins on the Foster side, Nolan resided in Texas and over the last two or three years he’d become her grandfather’s right-hand man. In fact, in another few years, her grandfather planned to turn the reins of Foster Oil over to Nolan despite her cousin Prescott’s public disapproval.
Since Nolan lived in Texas, she only saw him when she visited her family there, which wasn’t too often. So she didn’t have a close relationship with him. However, she knew him well enough. While not a bad person, he reminded her of the stereotypical wealthy businessman. He worked long hours, lived in a house far larger than anyone could ever need, and often came across as thinking he was better than everyone else. Sometimes Paige wondered if that explained why he was working on marriage number three despite being only a year older than her.
From the little Scott had shared, it sounded as if he worked a lot too, and she doubted his place in Manhattan was anything to sneeze at. But he didn’t come across as thinking he was better than her or anyone else. All evening he’d treated her, as well as the staff at the Spiced Pear, as equals. Using the time she’d spent around her dad’s side of the family as a frame of reference, she knew not everyone in Scott’s social circle treated others that way.
“Here you are, Mr. Belmont.” The valet’s words caught her attention, and she looked away from the shoreline and back at her date.
Scott tipped the young man before touching her lower back and escorting her toward the vehicle. “The view from the hotel should be almost as good this one.” His voice again rolled over her, causing her insides to do some twists and flips. Something they hadn’t done with any man she’d gone out with since her divorce.
She’d read a week earlier that before the fireworks the Providence Symphony Orchestra was performing at the Sherbrooke Hotel located on America’s Cup Avenue. She wondered if the performance would take place inside the hotel or in the outside pavilion she’d noticed on the hotel’s website.
Scott opened her car door before she could reach for the handle. Then he waited until she sat before closing the door and walking around to the to the other side. While she’d seen men do such things in old movies, she’d never had anyone do it for her. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she liked it either. She considered herself a strong, independent, twenty-first-century woman. The type who could take care of herself no matter what obstacles might pop up. She lived alone, and took care of her own yard work, which included mowing the lawn and planting flowers. If something went wrong with her car, she brought it to the garage. She never relied on a man to handle things for her. For some reason, allowing Scott to open and close doors made her feel as if she’d slapped all those women who’d fought so hard for women’s rights across the face.
“If you’re not interested in the concert, we can do something else before the fireworks. I should’ve asked you ahead of time what kind of music you enjoy.”
Given the choice she preferred rock as well as the popular hits played on the radio. Every once in while she enjoyed something different. “You won’t find the Providence Symphony in any of my playlists, but I’m looking forward to hearing them again tonight. Last year they performed at WaterFire one weekend. They were amazing.”
Scott pulled onto the road. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
She waited for him to say something else. Before dinner, she’d shared a lot about herself. Once dinner arrived their conversation had slowed, but she’d kept waiting for him to share more about himself. So far he’d told her very little. Now seemed like a good time for him to hold up his end. When they arrived at The Sherbrooke Hotel, they’d be surrounded by potentially hundreds of people. It wouldn’t be the best setting for getting to know each other. And she wanted to know more than what she’d read last night.
Thinking about how she’d spent the previous night surfing the Internet for information about Scott once again pricked her conscience. She shouldn’t have done it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and it’d been so easy to find articles, some dating back to his college years.
“Are we watching the fireworks from the hotel?” The silence in the car only made her think more about how she’d done an Internet search on the poor man. She’d dislike it if someone did the same to her.
For the first time since leaving, he looked over at her. “If you want, we can. But I planned to watch them from my house. The view from the rooftop is much better.”
He planned to take her back to his house. I hope he’s not expecting to do anything but watch fireworks tonight. She’d slept with men before meeting her ex-husband, but never on a first date. Paige had no intention of changing her track record tonight, especially considering there was no possibility of a future with Scott. Once he’d fulfilled the dates Aunt Bebe purchased, he’d disappear back to his own world. Their paths would never cross again.
“You know more about the area than me, so I’ll go with your judgment.” All night the man had been nothing but a gentleman. Her gut told her his behavior wouldn’t change. She’d be safe viewing the fireworks from his house. “If the view is better from your house, let’s go there. I want the best view possible tonight.”
For the evening’s performance, the orchestra had set up in the outdoor pavilion on the hotel’s property. When they arrived, she could hear the musicians warming up as people settled into whatever empty space they could find. Even from the curb she could see people already filled the chairs placed inside the pavilion, while others relaxed on towels and blankets. Even the benches around the area looked full. Considering how crowded the area already appeared, Paige suspected they’d be standing for the entire performance, something she’d rather not do in her heels. While they looked great, especially with this dress, they were not the most comfortable pair of shoes she owned.
After handing over his keys to the valet, Scott led her up the steps toward the hotel’s front entrance. Right away a doorman pulled open the glass door. Before they managed to escape into the air-conditioned building, someone called out, “Mr. Belmont.”
They both stopped and turned. Paige spotted the man with the large camera in his hands, but it took a half second longer for her to connect the voice with the man.
The camera flashed before she looked away.
“Mr. Belmont, I’m Linda Webster from the Providence Gazette.” A petite woman appeared next to the cameraman. “Is this the winner from the bachelor auction last month?”
The reporter turned her gaze as well as her overfriendly smile toward Paige. Heat exploded in her face and shot through her body and she wished for some extra deodorant.
“Ms. Foster is my date this evening. If you’ll please excuse us, we’re here to enjoy the music.” Scott touched her back, his hand oddly comforting as the reporter continued to smile, putting her unusually perfect bright white teeth on display.
Undeterred, the reporter spoke again before they got through the door and to safety. “Ms. Foster, is this the first of the four dates you bought at the Helping Hands auction? How is it going so far? What else does Mr. Belmont have planned for the two of you tonight?” The questions came at her in rapid-fire succession.
Paige did her best imitation of a fish opening and closing her mouth. Should she answer the woman or ignore her? If she answered, what should she say?
Scott applied more pressure to her back, a clear indication he wanted her to get moving. “We don’t have time for questions tonight. I’m sorry.” Although still polite, his voice contained some bite. “Ignore her and keep walking. It’s okay.” He whispered the words against her ear. His warm breath caused her internal temperature to go up another few degrees, and this time she couldn’t blame the change on embarrassment.
Paige heard the reporter call out another question, and she feared the woman would follow them inside. She held her breath for a few seconds and waited to hear the reporter’s voice again. It never came.
In silence, they crossed the open space toward the glass door on the opposite wall, Scott’s hand still on the small of her back. Once they stepped outside again, he escorted her to one of the small tables set up. Each of the five tables was covered with a blue linen tablecloth and placed in the center was a flickering candle surrounded by an arrangement of red and white flowers. Already individuals occupied three of the other tables; in fact, she recognized one of the couples. The former governor and his wife sat with another couple at the table furthest from them.
Next to her, Scott pulled out a chair. Well, at least my feet aren’t going to suffer.
“I arranged this when I made our dinner reservations. I expected the area would get crowded tonight.” He took his own seat as he spoke. “Sorry about the scene with the reporter. It didn’t occur to me they’d be here tonight.”
She’d spent a lot of time thinking about Scott and their evening, but she hadn’t stopped to consider the media. In hindsight, she should’ve. “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
It might not be his fault, but he knew better. A big holiday celebration was sure to garner a lot of local media attention. Media attention equaled news teams, and those contained pushy reporters. “It might happen again when we’re together, so I apologize in advance. You don’t have to talk to them no matter how aggressive they get.”
She’d appeared both shocked and embarrassed when the reporter approached them. He suspected she’d never dealt with the media before tonight. From now on he’d do his best to keep them away from situations where reporters might bother her. Unfortunately, there were no guarantees.
“Really, it’s okay. The auction was such a big deal, it makes sense the media is still interested in it. And you.”
If any of the other women he’d dated had ever been put in a position that obviously made them so uncomfortable while with him, they would’ve blamed him for the rest of the night. He not only appreciated that she didn’t blame him, but he liked her more because of it. And although unexpected, he found he liked Paige Foster quite a lot already.
“How long is the performance tonight?”
Scott could take a hint. She didn’t want to talk about the run-in out front. “An hour. The fireworks start around ten.”
From a few tables over the former Rhode Island governor waved at him, catching Scott’s attention. He knew the polite thing would be to go and say hello to him, his wife, and the other couple sitting with him. If he’d been alone, he would’ve walked over and spent a few minutes talking. Doing so tonight either meant leaving Paige alone or asking her to come with him. The first option was rude, and he guessed the second would embarrass her further. So instead he waved back. If the man took offense, oh well.
“I’m looking forward to them. The last ones I saw were near McCoy stadium four years ago. Or maybe it was five. I’m not positive. The summers always seem to fly by.”
“You won’t be disappointed tonight.”
She smiled at him, and for a moment Scott wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Not the friendly kind of kiss he’d given her on stage either. He wanted to cover her mouth with his. Use his lips to learn the feel and shape of hers. When he finished there, he wanted to slip his tongue inside and taste her.
“I’ll let you know if I agree later.”
Uncomfortable with where his thoughts had suddenly gone, he cleared his throat and shifted his gaze from her mouth to her eyes.
“Until then, it’s your turn. I told you a bedtime story during dinner. Now it’s your turn to talk,” Paige said.
On the positive side she was getting much more comfortable around him. He wished she’d worded her statement differently. Her use of the word bed only created an image of her in his, and he struggled not to let his mind wander further.
What was wrong with him tonight? Sure, Paige was beautiful, but he spent a lot of time around beautiful women. He never fantasized about them after only knowing them for a few hours. Well, at least not while they still sat across the table from him. Evidently, the several months he’d spent alone and celibate were catching up with him.
“Fair enough. But I have one more question for you first.” He had more than one. Since she’d already shared a lot about herself, he’d limit himself for now.
She considered his sentence before shrugging one bare shoulder. “Okay, but I think I told you everything.”
Hardly. “The night of the auction, I saw you and your aunt from up on the stage. It appeared as if she did the bidding using your arm and auction paddle. Was that my imagination, or did she pull your arm into the air?”
“You saw us? Darn. You’ve got great eyesight.” Paige shifted her attention to the champagne flute a waiter had delivered. “You didn’t imagine it. We discussed it before the auction started. Aunt Bebe knew I had no plans on bidding. I only went to keep her company. She didn’t agree with my decision and took things into her own hands. Nothing personal, Scott, but I really wish she hadn’t. Unfortunately, she likes to do that.” Paige sounded exasperated, and he wondered how many other times Bebe Fleming had gone against her niece’s wishes.
“She means well. I know she does, but sometimes it drives me crazy. And believe me if I’d known what her plan was when she invited me along, I would not have gone.” Paige paused her face clouded with concern. “Do you think anyone else noticed what she did? I know the other women at the table may have, but I hope no one else did.”
He had no idea, but since the idea distressed her he said, “Doubt it. People were more focused on the stage, and the room was dark.”
Scott saw the relief on Paige’s face. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t want anything to do with the auction either. My mom asked both my cousin and me to participate. We both tried hard to get out of it. I even offered to donate any dollar amount she wanted. In the end, I agreed because she hardly ever asks anything of me. Not to mention she is one stubborn individual.”
The breeze blew strands of Paige’s hair across her cheek, and she pushed them away, tucking them behind her ear. “Since you didn’t want anything to do with the auction either, we can skip the other three dates. It sounds like you’re busy and technically I didn’t do the bidding.”
Most of the women from the auction would be asking when they’d see him again, not offering to skip their remaining days together. It would make his life simpler if after tonight, they went their separate ways. He did enough travel for work without adding extra trips to Rhode Island to see her.
“If that’s what you want, Paige.” Unable to ignore the sudden desire to touch her, Scott reached across the table and took her hand. “But I’d like to see you again.” She intrigued him. He couldn’t explain why, but she did. At first he’d wanted to solve the mystery of her relationship to Michael Foster and Foster Oil. Now, he just wanted to learn more about her.
If he hadn’t been watching her, he would’ve missed the slight rise of her eyebrows.
“I’d like that too.” She smiled before she took a sip of her champagne. “Now, it’s really your turn to share. Tell me all about you and your family.”
The audience gathered outside grew quiet, a silent signal the performance was about to start. From inside the pavilion a gentleman began his welcoming speech.
“Saved by the orchestra,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll bore you with all my family secrets later.”
***
When Scott said they’d watch the fireworks from his rooftop, she hadn’t expected the rooftop to look like this. Add four walls and a ceiling and you’d have a furnished room perfect for entertaining. Evidently, Scott enjoyed being comfortable while he took in the ocean view. A view she found better than the one at the restaurant, and she hadn’t thought anything could top the one there.
While she waited for Scott to rejoin her, Paige walked the rooftop perimeter, their conversation at the hotel still fresh in her head. She’d given him an out. It’d only seemed fair since neither of them had wanted to participate in the auction. She’d expected him to take it. Instead, he left the decision up to her and said he’d like to see her again. This morning she would’ve accepted her chance to escape and wished Scott well. After spending several hours in his company, she was less willing to give up her time with him.
No doubt about it, Scott and she lived in different worlds. She didn’t need to look any further than the house around her to confirm it. Even so, except for the whole opening the car door thing and pulling out her chair, he never once acted much different than other men she dated. And she couldn’t ignore the physical effect he had on her. The simple feel of his hand on hers had her body responding in ways it hadn’t in a while. What would happen if he kissed her? Not the polite kiss they’d shared on stage, but a real kiss filled with desire and passion.
It might be better if she didn’t find out.
“If I’d known you loved chocolate so much I would’ve ordered a different dessert.” Scott walked outside carrying a tray. He’d ditched his suit jacket as well as his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Much like his face and hands, his forearms were tanned. “Next time I’ll know better.”
She eyed the fruit-covered dessert he set down, glad she hadn’t had anything but her meal at dinner. “Honestly, I like anything sweet. Chocolate is just my biggest weakness.”
“Mine’s pie. Cakes and cookies are good, but I cannot resist pie.” He held out a mug. “I made coffee. If you prefer tea, I can make it instead.”
“This is great.” She added cream and sugar before taking a sip. “So what’s your favorite kind?” She’d always preferred baking to cooking, probably because she loved sweets so much.
Scott skipped adding anything to his coffee and took a sip. “Depends. In the fall, I’d kill for a good pumpkin pie. During the winter I prefer key lime. No idea why. In the summer it’s got to be something with berries. But really I’ll eat anything with the word pie attached to it except for strawberry rhubarb. Rhubarb does not belong anywhere near a pie. Or anything else.”
“I agree.” She nodded toward the dessert plate he held toward her. “What exactly is this? It looks amazing.”
“The bakery said it was a fruit tart with vanilla mascarpone. I’ve never had it, but it looked good, so I ordered it.”
While he explained, Paige took a bite, the fresh blueberries, strawberries, and kiwis exploding in her mouth. Not only was the guy gorgeous but he also had great taste in dessert. “Mmm. This is delicious.”
“Better than a slice of chocolate cake?” Scott raised a forkful to his mouth.
“Let’s not go crazy here.” She gave him a smile as she scooped up another forkful. Tonight was turning out so much better than she’d expected.
A loud explosion disturbed the quiet atmosphere. Paige turned as the sky filled with purple. She took another bite of dessert and watched as more fireworks exploded, changing the view into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. Distracted by the show, Paige didn’t notice Scott had moved until he put his arm around her shoulders. The feel of his bare forearm against her skin set off internal fireworks matching those up above.
Neither spoke as one volley after another exploded, each display unique and beautiful.
Twenty-five minutes later, Scott still had his arm around her as the final colors faded from the sky, leaving behind gray wisps of smoke. “You were right. Those were some of the best fireworks I’ve seen.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.” Scott set down the coffee mug he’d been holding next to hers. Then he turned and encircled her waist loosely with both his arms. “I know it annoyed you, but I’m glad your aunt took things into her own hands at the auction. I’ve enjoyed our time together tonight.”
“Me too.” She’d never tell Aunt Bebe though. It might encourage her to do similar things in the future. And once was enough, thank you.
She watched his lips form the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. With a smile like that he probably had women falling all over themselves to get up close and personal. Before she could really enjoy it, he lowered his head toward hers.
Anticipation took off, sending heat to her belly and her pulse into overdrive. Anyone who had a smile like his knew how to kiss a woman.
Firm lips covered hers, and she closed her eyes as the heat inside her built.
Scott slipped a hand under her hair and changed the angle of his mouth over hers. She didn’t wait for him to make the next move. Instead, she put her arms over his shoulders and stepped closer, not stopping until her breasts pressed against his chest.
The hand under her hair slid down her neck and across the bare skin revealed by her dress before finally settling on the small of her back. Then, much to her disappointment, he pulled his lips away. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be in England. Hopefully it won’t be too long this time. When I get back, I’ll call you, and we can work out another time to see each other.”
“Looking forward to it.” She placed her lips against his this time, because just one kiss from him wasn’t enough.
***
“You made it.” His cousin Callie spotted him first when he walked outside. “Dylan went in to get James. He’ll be out in a minute.” Perhaps one of the friendliest people he knew, she gave him a hug before he had a chance to reply. “We missed you yesterday.”
“Maybe she missed you. I didn’t even notice you weren’t here,” Jake said, walking by with his son, Garret, in his arms.
“You weren’t here?” Trent asked, adding his two cents to the conversation.
When it came to his cousins, there were two things he could count on: them giving each other a hard time, and always having each other’s back no matter what.
Callie handed him a glass of ice tea before refilling her own glass. “Ignore them. They like to hear themselves talk.”
From across the table Jake tossed a balled-up napkin at his sister. Callie easily dodged it and kept on talking. “How were the fireworks last night? Dylan mentioned you were taking your date from the auction there.”
“Wish I’d seen you and Derek up on stage. Addie didn’t record it for me,” Trent said.
He’d wondered if any of his family members had recorded it for the sole purpose of embarrassing him.
“We should check with Courtney. I bet she did,” Jake said.
Yeah, if anyone had it would’ve been his younger sister.
“Leave Scott alone, you guys. The whole thing was for a good cause,” Callie said with annoyance.
“Did you unravel the mystery surrounding your date?” Dylan and his half brother Chase walked outside together. The two men resembled each other so much Chase could’ve been a younger version of Dylan. The only real difference between them was their eyes. While Dylan’s were gray like his mother’s, Chase’s were brown like their father’s.
“You didn’t tell me about any mystery, Dylan,” Callie said. “Do share.”
All eyes turned in his direction. Even James seemed to turn and look at him from his father’s arms. “Not much to share. Her grandfather is Michael Foster.” Despite the hours they’d spent together, he’d never really gotten his curiosity satisfied.
“Dominique Wakefield bought you?” Jake asked, referring to Paige’s cousin, a woman well-known in society. Apparently, his cousin hadn’t seen the pictures of him and Paige at the auction on the web, because no one would ever confuse the two women. They looked nothing alike.
Trent gave a low whistle. “Ouch. Man, I’m sorry.”
“He’s got another granddaughter. Paige Foster. She went to the auction with Bebe Fleming.”
“Didn’t know Foster had a son. Wonder if Mom and Dad do.” Over the years, Jake had spent a lot of time at his parents’ ranch in Texas. If anyone outside the Foster family would know of Paige’s father, it would be him.
“And that’s the mystery. We didn’t get into it.” Next time, Scott hoped he got it solved.