He didn’t know the McClains very well, only enough to know that Norvell had something to do with the refineries on President’s Island and that Joyce determinedly made sure they were included in every major social event. This one, for example.
“And are you alone this evening?”
Andrew couldn’t tell from her expression if she cared one way or the other, but he nodded. “My mother and her husband are here, and my father will pop in later, as he always does on New Year’s Eve. But I came alone.”
“I see.”
Her wry repetition of his own words made him wonder if she was making fun of him. He studied her a bit suspiciously through the polished lenses of his glasses. Her smile was polite enough, her expression and tone both bland, but there was something in her gleaming dark eyes...
“You said your father comes here every New Year’s Eve. Do you?” she asked.
“I have for the past decade. It’s sort of a tradition.”
“Ah. Tradition.”
Again, he searched her expression, looking for whatever lurked behind that inscrutable smile. “It’s always a very pleasant evening,” he felt compelled to say a bit defensively. “Good food, music, people I’ve known all my life.”
“Not many your own age.”
“No,” he admitted, not bothering to point out that she was probably one of the youngest in the room. He would guess her age at somewhere in her late twenties—three or four years younger than he was, perhaps. “Most of my younger friends find this event a bit dull for their tastes. They prefer to bring in the new year a bit more enthusiastically.”
“But you don’t.” It wasn’t a question.
He shrugged. “I used to follow my father’s example and make an appearance at several parties during the evening. I quit when it no longer seemed worth the extra effort.”
She studied him, making him grow a little uncomfortable. Her dark eyes were so intense that he could almost fancy she was looking straight into his mind. Not that he was the fanciful type, of course. Feeling the need to keep the conversation going, if only to distract him from the way she felt moving so lightly, so gracefully, against him, he cleared his throat. “What about you? Are you enjoying this party?”
“Yes, it’s very nice,” she said after a moment. “Not quite what I’m accustomed to, but I was curious.” She smiled suddenly. “I’m often curious.”
He wondered why the innocuous comment should sound suspiciously like a warning. “Are you?”
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate, merely continued to smile in that enigmatic way that aroused him as much as it unnerved him.
He was determined to learn more about her. She looked perfectly at ease in their elegant surroundings, as comfortable as anyone else in attendance. Her hair was right, her clothing was right, her manner was right; yet there was something...something different about her. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
Something that was driving him crazy.
“What are you accustomed to?” he asked her.
Her attention had apparently wandered to a portly matron who was all but dripping in multicolored gems. She brought her gaze back to his face. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
He frowned. He wasn’t accustomed to working so hard to hold someone’s interest.
Apparently he’d become spoiled to having others hang on his every word—whether because they were genuinely engrossed in what he had to say, or because they just didn’t want to risk offending him. He would have preferred the former from Nicole Holiday; he’d never tried to use his wealth or social position as bait to attract women. He’d always figured that women who were only interested in those things would not be his type anyway. Unfortunately most of the women he’d met lately seemed rather obsessed with those assets.
“You said this party isn’t exactly what you’re accustomed to,” he reminded her. “I asked what type of entertainment you generally prefer.”
Her smile returned. “Oh, this and that.”
The song ended. Nicole seemed prepared to return to her friends, but Andrew didn’t let her go. Instead he moved with her into the steps of a new dance when the band began another number.
“Yes, I’d love another dance, thank you,” Nicole murmured, sounding more amused than annoyed.
He forced a smile. “Do you live around here or are you just visiting?”
“I grew up in these parts. I’ve been living in Minneapolis for the past year, but I’ve recently moved back to Memphis.”
“What do you do?”