off for him, if he’d let her. “They’re giving an award to a friend of mine, and we should take him to dinner afterward.”
Reservations. Where? For how many? But Leo was gone before she could ask.
Totally winging it, she called the most expensive restaurant she’d heard of and booked a table for four in Leo’s name. If nothing else, the restaurant might be willing to add a few more to the party for a distinguished guest like Leo Reynolds.
Leo returned to the kitchen a short time later and she forgot all about a little thing like reservations. In black tie, Leo simply stole her breath.
“Ready?” he asked with raised eyebrows, likely because her fish-mouth impersonation amused him.
He was so delicious with his dark hair and dark suit, all crisp and masculine with a slight sensuous edge that set off something sharp and hot inside her. Last night, she’d felt just enough of the body he carried under that suit and the memory reintroduced itself as she let her eyes travel the entire length of her husband.
He cleared his throat and her gaze snapped to his. He was still waiting on her response.
“Ready,” she squeaked and grabbed her clutch.
Leo kept up the conversation as they rode to the hotel with his confident, steady presence. She suspected—and appreciated—it was a ploy to dispel her nervousness, but it didn’t work.
Leo escorted her through the lobby of the hotel with a hand at the small of her back. She liked the way his hand fit there. It served a dual purpose of providing support and showing everyone they were together.
And boy, did people notice. Heads swiveled as they entered the crush in the Renaissance ballroom. A string quartet played Strauss on a small platform in the corner, but the music couldn’t cover the rush of whispers that surely were about the woman with Leo.
One flawless society wife in progress. Who hadn’t gone to college but was going to be brilliant or die trying. Dannie squared her shoulders.
The neckline of her dress slipped, revealing a healthy slice of breast. Surreptitiously, she fingered it back into place. The deep vee over her cleavage wasn’t terribly daring, but it was low-cut and the spaghetti straps were too long for her torso. Since the svelte salmon-colored dress had cost Elise seven hundred dollars, paying to have it altered felt like a sin.
It slipped down again as Leo steered her toward the far corner. As she walked, she lowered one shoulder, Quasimodo-style, hoping to nudge the neckline back where it belonged through a combination of shifting her balance and sheer will.
“Are you okay?” Leo whispered.
She should have worn the dress all day and practiced walking in it. Hindsight. Double-sided tape could have fixed the problem in a jiffy.
“Of course.” She pasted on a serene smile as they halted before a group of men and women Leo clearly knew. Nodding, she greeted people and used all her tricks to remember names. Constantly being fired from a variety of jobs had an upside—few situations or people intimidated her.
“And this is Jenna Crisp,” Leo concluded, indicating a gorgeous redhead on the arm of Leo’s friend Dax Wakefield, who was receiving the alumni award that evening. “Jenna, this is my wife, Daniella Reynolds.”
Dannie shook the woman’s hand but Jenna wasn’t looking at her. The redhead’s attention was on Leo. Hmm. Dannie glanced at him. He didn’t notice Jenna’s scrutiny. Too busy discussing a patent infringement case with Dax. “I’m happy to meet you, Jenna. Have you known Leo long?”
Jenna focused on Dannie, and her expression noticeably cooled. “Long enough. How did you two meet, again?”
The redhead’s tone oozed with challenge, as if there might be something tawdry to the story.
That was one area they’d definitely not covered. Did his friends know he’d gone to a matchmaker? She’d have to settle for a half-truth lest she embarrass Leo. “A mutual acquaintance introduced us.”
“Interesting.” The other woman nodded, sweeping long locks over her bare shoulders. She curled her lips in a semblance of a smile, which didn’t fool Dannie for a second. Jenna did not like her.
“That’s how Dax and I met, too. Leo introduced us.”
“Oh?” Leo—a matchmaker himself? That was interesting. “I’m sure he was happy to help his friends find each other.”
“You think so? Considering the fact that Leo and I were dating at the time, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.”
Oh, dear. No wonder the daggers in Jenna’s eyes were so sharp. Dannie groaned inwardly. The dinner reservations had just gotten a whole lot more complicated than whether the table would be big enough.
“I’m sorry. I can’t speak for Leo. If you’re curious about his motives, you’d best ask him. Champagne?” she offered brightly, intending to put some distance between herself and Leo’s ex-girlfriend. At least until she figured out how to navigate the bloody water full of sharks her husband had dropped her into.
“That would be lovely,” Jenna said just as brightly and took Leo’s arm to join in his conversation with Dax, physically blocking Dannie from the group.
In historical novels, they called that the cut direct. In real life, Dannie called it something else entirely, and if she said that many four-letter words out loud, Leo would have a heart attack.
Instead, she went to get Jenna and Leo a glass of champagne.
Really, she understood Jenna’s animosity. She’d be confused, too, if Leo had shuffled her off on a friend and then promptly married someone else. Dannie also had the superior position between them, a point Jenna likely hadn’t missed. At the end of the day, Dannie’s last name was Reynolds and Jenna’s wasn’t.
Now she wondered what had really happened between Jenna and Leo. It was a little uncivilized of Leo not to have warned her. Men. Didn’t he realize what he’d dragged Dannie into?
In reality, he probably hadn’t considered it a problem. And it wasn’t. Their marriage was an arrangement and her emotions weren’t Leo’s primary concern. That put a little steel in her spine. She had a job to do.
When she rejoined the group, Leo shot her a sidelong smile in gratitude for the glass of champagne. The flutters his very private grin set off were enough to forgive him. Almost.
A good wife might choose to forget the whole conversation. She bit her lip.
Then again, a good wife who paid attention to unspoken nuances might also ensure she didn’t mistakenly cause her husband embarrassment. Forewarned was forearmed, and if Leo expected her to chat up his associates, she should know exactly what that association was. Right?
“You used to date Jenna?” she murmured in his ear as Dax engaged his date in their own conversation.
“Briefly.” Leo’s gaze sought out the woman in question, his eyes narrowing and growing a tad frigid. “She told you? I’m surprised she’d be so tactless. And I apologize if I put you in an uncomfortable position.”
He’d leaned in, breath teasing along her cheek as he spoke, and she caught a whiff of something fresh and maybe a little wintry but definitely all male. His hip brushed hers. Heat pooled at the contact and spread, giving a whole new meaning to an uncomfortable position.
She waved off his apology. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose.”
He’d apologized instead of calling her out for sticking her nose in his business. That was a relief. Walking that line between being a complement to Leo and fading into the background was harder than she’d anticipated. Regardless, she was going to be a star wife. No compromise.
Leo frowned. “We only went out for a little while and obviously it didn’t work out, or I wouldn’t have introduced her to a friend. Jenna wanted more than I could