It was no wonder he liked her.
She was amazing.
George Perkins walked on stage and took the microphone. He wished everybody a merry Christmas and announced the dancing would begin. All the men at his table asked their wives to dance and Dean knew it would look odd if he and Kristen didn’t join them on the floor.
He rose and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She smiled. “I’d love to.”
He led her to the dance floor and took her into his arms, where she fit perfectly. She was the right height for him. She was pretty. She had just enough sophistication that it didn’t impinge on her natural, innocent charm. She ate when she was hungry. She wanted to have kids. She wanted to change the world.
All his crazy feelings around her came into focus, and he nearly stopped dancing. She wasn’t just amazing. She was the perfect woman for him. Of course he was attracted to her. Of course he wanted her.
If there was such a thing as the woman of his dreams, it was Kristen.
Happiness mixed with a knowing that expanded his chest with a fierce need to kiss her, and his heart with a longing to keep her—to never let her out of his sight—that he’d never felt before.
It also explained the unwanted vision of her with his child, the way he could relax with her and why he couldn’t stop staring at her face.
Some crazy, romantic part of himself wanted a future with her.
But it was all for nothing.
Not only did he have a really crappy upbringing that meant he had no idea what a real family looked like, no idea how to be a husband or a father, but there was also the matter of why Alex Sancho hated him.
If that wasn’t enough to make him all wrong for her, he had a one-track mind. His company. Even if she found him as attractive and interesting as he found her, she should run like the wind away from him.
Once she got to know him, she probably would.
He stepped back, sliding his hands down her arms until he could take her hands. “I’m suddenly very, very tired. Let’s go back to the table.”
Her eyes sought his as her lush mouth, her perfect, oh-so-kissable mouth twisted in confusion. “We aren’t going to mingle?”
He once again used pragmatism to overcome her questions.
“I might mingle later. I’m not sure. Jason just wanted me to put in an appearance. I think we’ve done more than that.”
Before she could say anything, Dean caught her hand and began to maneuver through the crowd, toward their table, pulling her with him. Regret wobbled through him, but he wondered why. This was his life. And he was essentially happy with it. He was a rich man, doing work he loved. He wouldn’t feel bad that he was attracted to a woman he couldn’t have. He had many, many things to be grateful for.
They didn’t quite get to their seats before Winslow and Julia Osmond, who owned one of the biggest brokerage houses in New York, ambled up to him.
“I see your stock is hanging tough.”
“Thanks to you,” Dean agreed. He’d had a good chat with Winslow that afternoon. Even though he’d created an informal “no talking about business” rule for this party, this was a chance to reinforce what he’d said.
Kristen tapped his arm. “I thought we agreed no shoptalk tonight.”
The gesture was sweet, familiar, and longing whispered through Dean again. Longing for a life, a relationship, things he’d never wanted before. It was confusing. Frustrating. Ridiculous.
Winslow Osmond said, “I got the same lecture.” He smiled at Kristen. “Where did you two meet?”
“Paris.”
Julia Osmond said, “Oh, how romantic.”
Kristen laughed. “Somewhat romantic. We actually find ourselves on opposite ends of a business thing. I work for Princess Eva Latvia of Grennady.”
Julia caught her arm. “Oh, darling! Didn’t she just marry that gorgeous prince from Xaviera?”
“Yes. Alexandros Sancho. They’re in Xaviera right now at the end of a vacation celebrating American Thanksgiving. Alex’s brother Dom is married to an American and his dad married Princess Ginny’s mom, Rose.”
Winslow laughed. “Now, that’s going to be a complicated family tree.” He faced Dean. “What business does your company have with Grennady?”