Slow Hands

“Really, Mr. Wallace, there’s no wrong foot. You don’t owe me a thing. I’m glad I was able to keep you from the ridicule of your sisters.” With a deliberately rueful smile, she thought of how she’d ended up here tonight and admitted, “They can definitely be annoying.”
    “Okay then. So we’ll have a drink while we compare our crazy families, make our plans and check out the sports page for the next home game.” Frowning, he added, “You are a Cubs fan, aren’t you?”
    “I think it’s illegal not to be around here.”
    “Meaning there’s nothing stopping us from going out.”
    “If I told you I liked the Cardinals, would that get this ridiculous idea out of your head?” He lifted a hand to his chest, his jaw opening in horror. Which made her laugh again. “Kidding.”
    “You’d go that far to avoid going out with me?” he asked, his voice growing quiet, his smile fading. As if her answer really mattered to him…as if he cared .
    Shaking her head, Maddy stepped around him, taking that first all-important step toward the door. And away from Mr. Superstud. “It’s not about going out with you. I had my own reasons for being here tonight, and they didn’t include a date. So you are completely off the hook.”
    “But the money…”
    “Was for the children.” And for my father . “There’s no quid pro quo in this.” Even if five minutes ago all her most feminine parts had been demanding that she get at least a little bit of quid and a whole lot of quo for being so… awakened by him.
    That was a good word for it. Their brief conversation hadn’t aroused her quite to the level of blatant physical desire. But it had most definitely awakened her to the possibilities. Especially because she suddenly realized that as well as being physically attracted to him, she could also truly like this warm, amusing man.
    Oh, there were so many possibilities.
    No . They were im possibilities. Her most feminine parts would have to be happy watching hot doctors having affairs at Seattle Grace.
    Telling herself she would not regret this in the morning, but wondering how she’d make it through the long, lonely night ahead without fantasizing about how she could have spent it—she murmured “Goodbye,” and walked out of his life.
    * * *
    J AKE HAD THREE SISTERS , so he knew better than to try to change a woman’s mind when she had definitely made it up. And the sexy brunette in the silky blue dress had most assuredly made up her mind to leave. Funny, though…he had the feeling she’d decided to ditch him before she’d ever bid on him.
    Which, frankly, made him feel a lot better. Because her disinterest was not personal. He just needed to make sure that her interest became very personal.
    Because there was no way that pert little dismissal and the sashay of her curvy hips out the ballroom door was the end of their relationship. Uh-uh. She’d been sexy and mysterious, aloof and unattainable from behind that black curtain. Now that he’d seen those stormy brown eyes, heard that whiskey-toned voice and caught a glimpse of her beautiful smile and those adorable dimples, he found her not only sexy and earthy but also almost heart-stoppingly desirable.
    And no longer unattainable. He had a legitimate reason to find her. A good reason. He owed her what he’d promised and he never welshed on a deal.
    Jake didn’t even consider following her. He didn’t need to. Chicago might be a big city, but the world in which the überwealthy lived was a small, incestuous one. He could find out who she was with a few well-placed questions at the reception going on down the hall.
    The problem was, he really didn’t want to venture into that reception. He’d escaped the clutches of the catcalling rich bitches and he had no desire to fall into them again. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.
    “Excuse me,” he said as he strode toward the checkout desk. It was almost deserted now, with just a few last volunteers counting cash, sorting checks and cleaning up after the flesh-spending-frenzy.
    “Yes?” an attractive brunette replied. Jake recognized her as the woman who ran the charity organization benefiting from tonight’s auction—the Give A Kid A Christmas thing that provided traditional holiday seasons for families living in Chicago’s abused women shelters. Noelle something. She’d been earnest and friendly, a little harried, but not coolly amused and assessing the way some of the auction organizers had