He held his hand out to me, the rubies in his wedding band catching the light and glittering. Holding my skirt up with one hand, I made my way over to him and set my hand in his. The moment I stepped out, I was blinded, but I kept my eyes open despite the spots dancing across my vision, a practiced smile pasted on my lips.
I straightened, Gideon’s hand settled on the small of my back, and pandemonium ensued. It somehow managed to get worse when Cary appeared. The shouts became deafening. I spotted Raúl by the entrance, his hard gaze sweeping the melee. He lifted his arm and spoke into his wrist mic, coordinating with someone under his command. When he looked at me, my smile turned genuine. He gave me a brisk nod.
Inside, we were met by two event handlers, who kept the required photo op moving along quickly, then escorted us up an elevator to the ballroom floor.
We stepped into a vast space filled with New York’s elite, a glamorous assembly of powerful men and perfectly presented women displayed to flattering effect by dimmed chandelier lighting and a profusion of candlelight. The atmosphere was heavily fragranced by the massive floral arrangements centering each dining table and enlivened by a society orchestra playing upbeat instrumentals through the hum of conversation.
Gideon steered me through the groups of people clustered around the dining tables, pausing often for those who stepped into our path with greetings and congratulations. My husband had slid effortlessly, seamlessly into his public persona. Splendidly handsome, completely at ease, quietly commanding, coolly aloof.
I, however, was stiff and edgy, though I hoped that practiced smile hid my nervousness. Gideon and I didn’t have a good track record at events like these. We ended up fighting and leaving separately. Things were different now, but still …
His hand slid up my bared back and cupped my nape, kneading the tense muscles gently. He continued to speak to the two gentlemen who’d intercepted us, discussing market fluctuations, but I was instinctively certain that he was focused on me. I stood to his right and he shifted smoothly, sliding just a bit behind me so that the right side of his body touched my back from shoulder to knee.
Cary reached around my shoulder and passed me a chilled flute of champagne. “I see Monica and Stanton,” he told me. “I’ll let them know we’re here.”
I followed his direction as he closed in on where my mom stood beside her husband, her smile bright and beautiful as they talked with another couple. Stanton was elegantly handsome in his tuxedo, while my mother gleamed like a pearl in an off-white silk column dress.
“Eva!”
I turned at the sound of Ireland’s voice, my eyes widening as I found her rounding the nearest table. For a moment, my brain stopped processing anything but the sight of her. She was tall and willowy, her long black hair artfully arranged in a chic updo. The side slit in her sophisticated black velvet gown showed off mile-long legs, while the single-shoulder bodice cupped breasts that were the perfect size for her slender frame.
Ireland Vidal was a stunningly beautiful girl, her thickly lashed eyes the same striking blue as her mother’s and Gideon’s. And she was only seventeen. Picturing her as the woman she would become was breathtaking. Cary wasn’t the only one who was going to set the world on fire.
She walked right into me, hugging me tight. “We’re sisters now!”
I smiled and hugged her back, careful not to spill my champagne on her. I glanced at Chris, who stood behind her, and he gave me a grin in return. The look in his eyes when they returned to his daughter was both tender and proud. God help the guys who set their sights on Ireland. With Chris, Christopher, and Gideon watching out for her, they would have some formidable men to get through first.
Ireland pulled back and checked me out. “Wow. That necklace is amazing! And your boobs! I want a pair of those.”
I laughed. “You’re perfect just the way you are. You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
“No way. But thanks.” Her face lit up as Gideon excused himself from the conversation and turned to face her. “Hey, bro.”
She was in his arms in an instant, hugging him as tightly as she’d hugged me. Gideon stood statue-still for a moment. Then he hugged her back, his face softening in a way that made my heart skip a beat.
I’d spoken to Ireland briefly on the phone after Gideon’s interview, apologizing for keeping the secret of our wedding and explaining why. I wanted us to be closer than we were, but I was holding off on making too many overtures. It would be so easy to become the bridge between her and Gideon, and I didn’t want it that way. They needed to have their own connection, independent of anyone else.
My sister-in-law would be attending Columbia University soon, like her brothers before her. She’d be close and we’d see each other more often. Until then, I would continue to encourage Gideon to foster their budding relationship.