“It doesn’t look good, us not arriving together,” he told her again as he headed toward the Hay-Adams hotel.

“I’m sorry, but I told you I had a client meeting! Besides, what kind of gala starts at six o’clock?” she asked.

He could hear the stress in her voice and tried to relax for both of them. “It’s okay,” he said. “And, to answer your question, the kind of gala that’s full of octogenarians hungry to open their pocketbooks for the right charity. This is like midnight to them.”

“You’re really selling this event,” she told him.

He smiled. “By the way, you’re wearing something James had delivered to you, right?”

She groaned. “Yes! And it seems ridiculously formal to be wearing when the sun’s still up.”

“It’ll be fine. I’m pulling up to the valet now. Text me when you’re almost here and I’ll come down and meet you.”

“Okay.”

“And you need to be on tonight.”

He’d only done one round of the room when her text came in. Connor was grateful for the excuse to do something. He’d already spied his father as he schmoozed with an ancient woman whose scalp shone through her white hair.

Sam was just taking the valet’s hand to help her out of the car when he got to the bottom of the stairs. She was absolutely breathtaking, and James had earned his keep. She wore a perfectly tailored emerald green gown with beading at the hem that made her green eyes even more striking. It looked almost modest from the front, but when she turned he saw it was completely backless. Her nearly black hair swept into a chignon highlighted the olive skin of her toned back.

Sandra had been pretty, but she’d never quite looked the part—as much as Connor hated to admit that. Sam looked it and acted it. Immediately, she gave him a huge smile and her professional veil was draped all around her. He offered his elbow, and she’d barely taken it when they were bombarded with people.

“Is this the fiancée we’ve heard so much about?” Connor couldn’t recall everyone’s names, but it didn’t matter.

“Yes, this is Sam,” he said, and she turned into the ultimate socialite. Sam moved from group to group with ease. She passed out genuine compliments to the women, remembered details when they ran into them again hours later, and even managed to hold the men’s attention without flirtations. Everyone was hooked.

Connor watched her work the crowd, impressed by how she always managed to shine while she still made sure he was at the center of it all. He’d known some women like this, which included his mom years ago in her prime. Only so much of it could be taught. Like grace, it was largely natural.

Whoever I end up with, however many years from now, will have to be elegant like Sam, he thought to himself as he watched her lightly touch the arm of a trustee and laugh.

“Champagne?” he asked her.

“Yes, honey, thank you,” she said.

However, when he returned with the glass, she was alone for the first time that night. He handed her the flute, but she put it aside, disgusted. “What, no alcohol tonight?” he asked.

She turned red. “I’d rather not get myself into trouble, if that’s okay,” she said.

He was confused. Since when did she not drink at all? “Okay, if that’s what you want. You’ll need to at least have sparkling cider in a flute though. There are my parents,” he said. “At five o’clock. Don’t look.”

“Connor, you’re being ridiculous,” she said.

She didn’t even have a chance to turn around before his mom spotted them. From across the room, he saw his mom latch onto his dad’s arm as she started to drag him toward them. “And, action,” Connor whispered to Sam.

“Hello, sweetheart,” his mom said. She pulled Sam to her and kissed both cheeks. “Don’t you look lovely! This color really suits you. And Connor, of course, handsome as always.”

“Thanks, mom,” he said.

“Making good contacts?” his father asked gruffly. “I saw you with the Hoskings earlier. They seemed quite taken by your fiancée here,” he said.

“Yes, I think the evening is quite successful,” Connor said.

“And Sam, you’re not drinking, I see,” he said. “Just be careful, before the wedding and all.”

“What do you mean by that?” Connor asked.

“Well, you’re obviously trying to conceive. Which is fantastic, but we don’t need any gossiping about a shotgun wedding—”

“What the hell is your problem?” Connor growled at his father, who looked around the vicinity and raised his brows in a warning.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Your father’s right. Don’t worry, sir. I’m just detoxing and cleansing my body for now. Children aren’t in the plan until after the wedding.”

Connor’s mouth ached from gritting his teeth, and his father somehow continued to egg him on without saying a word.

“Hey,” Sam said. She touched his shoulder lightly, just enough to distract him. “How about the cider you promised me?” When he looked at her, he couldn’t help but notice the swell of her breasts beneath that tight satin gown. Sam followed his gaze and turned a bright red. Her embarrassment sobered him up instantly.

“Right,” he said. “Why don’t you accompany me? Mom, Father, we’re off to mingle more,” he said. Connor took her hand and led her away.

“Do you mind if we step outside a moment?” he asked. “I could use some fresh air.”

She shrugged. “It’s your dime.”

“I want to apologize for that,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. Honestly, your dad’s not that out there, you know? I’ve experienced worse.”

“I meant I wanted to apologize for my behavior,” he said cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I just—I don’t know. Being around my parents, it just enrages me somehow. They’re the only people who can unnerve me like that. I feel like I’m this perpetually angsty teenager around them. I can’t shake it.”

“That’s normal,” she said gently. “Only our parents can drive us crazy like that. Well, and love. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I just want you to know, that I understand you’re a paid contractor. If the tables were reversed… I don’t know. I wouldn’t like being put in that kind of situation.”

She sighed. “It’s not exactly the most normal job I’ve ever had. And honestly, getting this personal with the people in your life, it’s not as easy as I thought it would be.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promised. “I guarantee it. I want you to be as comfortable as possible, and if that means exerting more control over my family, that’s what will happen.”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I mean, it’s not like I have any context to compare this gig with. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Great,” he said. She was a trooper, that’s for sure. “As a good faith effort on my part, would you mind escorting me to my car for a moment?”

She cocked her head and looked at him curiously. “What do you have in mind?”

He took her hand and headed to the employee elevator. “Sit for a moment,” he said as they reached his car, opening the passenger door for her.

Flipping open the console, he pulled out his copy of the contract and scribbled an amendment. Should the CLIENT take advantage of CONTRACTOR at any time post-May 20, 2017, “advantage” defined by CONTRACTOR’S terms, CONTRACTOR will receive a $10,000 bonus in addition to the $25,000 agreed upon project rate, and will be immediately released from the contract and all duties herein.

“Well? What do you think?” he asked, showing her the amendment.

“I think you should have been a doctor with that handwriting,” she said. “Look, Connor, I didn’t ask for any of this. I think you’re blowing it way out of proportion.”

Maybe she was right, but he couldn’t get over that look of shame she’d had when she’d caught him staring at her chest. “I know you didn’t ask for it,” he said. “But I’m a man of my word, and I’ve always taken pride in ensuring my employees and contractors are well cared for. It’ll just make me feel better knowing you’re protected.”

She flushed, and a smile played at her lips. “Okay,” she said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Do you want to sign it now?” he asked. “I can have James deliver it to my attorneys first thing in the morning.”

“Now?” she asked. “The whole thing?”

“Unless you have doubts about the arrangement still, which I understand. I know we said we’d give it a month—”

“Now is fine,” she said, and reached for the pen. “I think we’re pretty much in this whole thing by now. What’s the point in waiting?” She signed her name in pretty, flowing lines.

“Awesome,” he said.

She laughed. “Awesome? Maybe you are a teenage boy at heart.”

“You should be so lucky. But we should get back to the party now. Who knows how many crypt keepers are just dying to fawn all over you and try to wheedle information about Trezor out of me.”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re not so bad,” she said. “Besides, by now everyone’s probably so drunk we can talk about last week’s Saturday Night Live skits and they’d swear it was the most intellectual conversation ever.”

“You’re lucky,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

“You’re not completely jaded by being surrounded by these people yet. You can still find something interesting about them.”

“Well, that’s my job,” she said with a smile.

“And apparently, you’re going to work for every penny,” he said. “Come on. I owe you a sparkling cider, I believe. You know, just in case you get knocked up sometime soon and plan to embarrass my father with a shotgun wedding.”

She groaned. “You can’t blame the poor man for hoping.”

“I wouldn’t if he actually wanted grandchildren for normal reasons. He’s just desperate to make sure his royal reign continues. You should talk to him! I’m sure you can negotiate a bonus if you make a male grandchild happen within a year of the wedding for him.”

She gave him a funny look. “Now that would be a miracle,” she said. “Kids weren’t written into that contract of yours.” She poked him in the arm, but he had a feeling she was only half kidding.

“I wasn’t being serious,” he said.

She turned and got out of the car. Connor paused, unable to take his eyes off her ass. The material hugged the round curves perfectly, and the back plunged so dangerously low he could see the two dimples above her cheeks. They nearly begged him to press his thumbs into them.

He shook his head and got out of the car. No more of this crap. You’re playing with fire.