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Prince Of The City

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Год написания книги
2018
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She rewarded him with another of her wry smiles.

“I could be so lucky.”

“Well, you have to roll the dice first,” he advised. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, keeping a hold on his hand as he helped her out of the limousine amid the sudden click and flash of cameras aimed at them from all directions.

So much for private time, Bill thought as he paused on the sidewalk outside the hotel, put an arm around Eloise’s shoulders, drew her close to his side and smiled graciously for the hoard of hardworking photographers. Standing next to him, Eloise seemed equally at ease in the limelight, her own smile dazzling, subtly reminding him that she was a powerful force in her own right—one with which he would eventually have to reckon.

Not tonight, though, he determined. Tonight he planned to do everything in his substantial power to see that Eloise Vale had the time of her life as his very special guest at this very special party held in his honor.

Eloise couldn’t remember ever having quite as much fun at a social engagement as she had at the Mayor’s Ball that night. She had attended many, many similar high-society events in the past with much higher expectations of enjoyment, only to be sadly disappointed. And since she had agreed to accompany Bill Harper to the Mayor’s Ball solely as a means of promoting her cause—the continuation of city funding for nonprofit organizations including her own Manhattan Multiples—she had known better than to also count on having a good time.

As she had on every other occasion when she’d felt duty-bound to attend a particular event, she had wanted only to be able to get through the ordeal with as much grace and charm as she could muster. But from the moment she had opened her apartment door to Mayor Harper, a whole new world filled with surprising possibilities seemed to open up for her, as well—not only for the evening ahead, but for the very near future, too.

He was so relaxed in her presence, and they had so many shared memories—truly fond memories—that her attempts to maintain some semblance of formality between them seemed more and more ludicrous as the night wore on. And the longer she was with Bill Harper, the harder it was for her to think of him as an adversary, until finally, reluctantly, she gave up on it altogether.

He gave every appearance of being genuinely proud to have her by his side, pausing outside the hotel, and again inside the grand ballroom, to allow the photographers on hand to duly record their presence there together. Granted, he would benefit from the exposure, but so would she. Nor was she cynical enough to assume his high spirits were due only, or even mainly, to any possible gain in political advantage he might make at her expense. Public opinion could be swayed just as easily in the direction of her cause, as he must surely know.

Once swept up in the glamour and excitement of the Mayor’s Ball, Eloise wasn’t able to allow serious thoughts to distract her for very long. Even though saving city funding for Manhattan Multiples remained a very real problem that nagged at the back of her mind throughout the evening, she was too busy enjoying Bill’s attentive company to focus on it as completely as she probably should have. And while that could have been exactly what Bill intended, he seemed to be having just as much fun as she was, something even he couldn’t fake for very long.

After seeing to it that her black silk coat was safely stowed away, he snagged a glass of champagne for each of them off a passing waiter’s tray. Then he took her on a tour of the ballroom, filled to near capacity with the city’s most important men and women, movers and shakers one and all, dressed in their finest and eager to make their presence as well as their various positions known to the mayor. Bill greeted them all with equal affability, also making sure to introduce Eloise.

His very dear friend, he said over and over again, smiling at her with such obvious warmth that he not only made her heart glow, but also made her believe it was true.

Some people eyed them with obvious surprise while others seemed somewhat dismayed. But most responded to them with a nonchalance that put her even more at ease.

It was possible, after all, for two people with very differing opinions to be friends. And though not widely known among their contemporaries, she and Bill had had a close personal relationship long before their conflict over city funding had arisen.

Having completed his meet-and-greet duties, Bill lured Eloise to the buffet table and piled a white china plate high with tantalizing tidbits for them to share. Then he led her off to a secluded alcove where a table for two—complete with white linen tablecloth and a centerpiece of pale pink roses—had been discreetly tucked away, reserved just for them, obviously at his special request.

“This is lovely,” Eloise said as he seated her in one of the fabric-draped chairs. “But how did you manage it?”

“Well, I am the mayor,” he reminded her—as he seemed to enjoy doing—his tone teasing.

“And the center of attention at your very own ball, as well you should be. I didn’t think hiding out in a private nook was allowed at an affair of this magnitude, though.”

Unselfconsciously, Eloise helped herself to a miniature quiche that proved to be simply delicious.

“Even the mayor of New York City needs an occasional respite. Or maybe I should say especially the mayor.” Bill, too, helped himself to one of the morsels he had selected from the buffet. “I imagine you’ve often felt the same way, sponsoring as many fund-raising events as you do.”

“There are a lot of times when I’d much rather be home alone, wearing my baggiest sweats, curled up on the sofa with a good book and a cup of tea,” she admitted. “But smiling and shaking hands and making small talk with strangers at yet another function for yet another good cause has become more and more of a necessity lately.”

“I hope tonight isn’t one of those times you’d rather be home,” he said, his concern for her feelings evident.

“No, not tonight,” she replied, not only unable, but also unwilling to hide her true feelings from him. “Tonight, much to my surprise, I’m actually having a very good time.”

“You know, so am I,” Bill admitted, sounding just the slightest bit surprised himself. Then he added with a wicked grin, “I can’t remember when that happened last. Must be the company we’re keeping, huh?”

“Must be,” Eloise agreed, smiling as well, as she snitched the last appetizer from the plate on the table.

“Have you had enough to eat or would you like me to make another foray to the buffet table?”

“Enough for now, although you could probably tempt me with something decadently rich and sweet from the dessert table a little later.”

“How about a dance then?” Bill suggested as the orchestra began playing a soft, sexy ballad that had always been one of her favorites.

“A dance would be nice,” Eloise agreed, remembering a long-ago night when they had held each other close, swaying to a similarly slow rhythm in a smoky club somewhere in Greenwich Village—a world away from the ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria.

“It’s been a while,” he said quietly, seeming to recall, as well, their last dance together as he stood to help her from her chair.

“I’ve been told dancing is like riding a bike,” she quipped as he took her hand, wanting to recapture the lighthearted mood they’d been sharing. “Once you learn, you never forget.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve never forgotten, Eloise,” Bill murmured as they reached the dance floor and he took her in his arms. “Holding you like this is definitely at the top of the list.”

Her heart fluttering, Eloise leaned against Bill wordlessly as he guided her into a simple box step. She had never forgotten completely the feel of his arms around her, either, even though there had been times when she had tried desperately to do so.

And now, as his long, lean, masculine frame seemed to curve protectively around her shorter, slighter self, the heat of his body melding with hers, she breathed in the fresh, clean scent of his aftershave and experienced a sense of peace and happiness she hadn’t known she’d been missing.

It felt so good, so right, to be held in Bill Harper’s arms. And though she knew these moments she shared with him were fleeting, she closed her eyes and pretended they would last forever.

As the music played on, one song segueing into another, he didn’t speak and gratefully neither did she. The spell would be broken soon enough without any help from her. The orchestra cooperated a little longer, playing a third slow and easy ballad, then finally picked up the tempo by several beats with an old disco favorite.

“I’m still not much good at the faster dance steps,” Bill admitted with obvious regret.

“Neither am I,” Eloise said.

Taking his cue, she stepped out of his arms, but didn’t pull her hand away when he seemed inclined to hold on to it.

“How about another glass of champagne?” he asked as he led her off the dance floor. “Or maybe something from the dessert table?”

Before Eloise could reply, they were waylaid by an investment banker who had been an associate of her husband’s, and his bejeweled wife. While Eloise spoke to them, Bill flagged down a waiter and got them each another glass of champagne. Then they seemed to be swept up in another round of pressing the flesh as late arrivals sought to make their presence known to the ball’s guest of honor and his lovely companion.

To his credit, Bill made sure they passed by the long, linen-covered table filled with desserts. Acknowledging in a teasing tone his recollection of her notorious taste for sweets, he helped her select a sampling of the luscious pastries on offer there.

But they weren’t able to slip away alone again. Instead, they were invited to sit at a large round table full of corporate leaders, an invitation Eloise knew they were both wise to graciously accept.

These were the men and women most likely to support nonprofit organizations like Manhattan Multiples. Of course, they were also just as likely to support major cuts in city funding, especially if it meant there wouldn’t be any increase in corporate taxes as a result, Eloise reminded herself as she nibbled on a tiny slice of sinfully delicious chocolate cake. Thankfully, no one at the table was boorish enough to bring up the subject, though.

But Eloise sensed an avid interest among their table mates in her rather odd and obviously unexpected appearance at the ball as Mayor Harper’s special guest when everyone knew they held opposing views on such an important and potentially volatile issue. She should really be much more concerned about what people thought, Eloise admitted. But she was feeling so mellow that it was easier to just drift along, nodding and smiling and occasionally offering an appropriate, if inane, comment whenever necessary.

“How about a last dance…for tonight?” Bill asked as the conversation around them fell into a lull and the orchestra once again slowed the tempo of the music.

“Yes, please.”

The rhythm of her heart quickening once again, Eloise smiled at him graciously, ignoring as best she could the raised eyebrows of several of the women as she took his proffered hand. She hadn’t missed Bill’s “for tonight,” and apparently, neither had they. But she knew better than they that he was only trying to charm her.

Under the circumstances, they wouldn’t be spending any more time together after tonight unless one or the other of them changed their political position. And that was highly unlikely to happen.
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