Tara physically backed up at the idea. “Oh, no! We’re not here to intrude,” she said. “I’m sure my date would prefer to sit over here where we can observe the party better.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly at Tara but the smile remained on his face. “Nonsense,” he said, not taking no for an answer, “Come along. I’m sure everyone will be thrilled to see you. And I do mean everyone,” he emphasized mysteriously.
He bent down and whispered something in Marabeth’s ear. When he was finished, she raised questioning eyebrows to her husband, who mysteriously nodded. That created a huge grin on Marabeth’s face and she turned to Tara and seconded her husband’s invitation. “Absolutely,” she said, “you must come join us. It looks like you two are finished with your meal so come along.”
Tara’s stomach started fluttering nervously. “Really, we’re fine over here by ourselves,” she tried to explain but Greg was too excited at the idea of meeting more royalty and he was already following Sam and Marabeth, almost leaving Tara behind in his enthusiasm.
“This should be amazing,” he said encouragingly to Tara, already following behind Princess Marabeth and the Minister of Defense. “You’ve never met the royals, I’ll bet. Isn’t this the best date you’ve ever been on?” he asked. Tara didn’t answer even though the fact that Princess Marabeth had come up to greet her, an obvious indication that Tara had indeed met the princess before. She was coming to understand that Greg wasn’t very smart about picking up on clues.
There was nothing to do but follow the three of them. Tara didn’t contradict the fact that she had already met the royals of Cordova. The idea occurred to her that she could just run from the building or throw on someone else’s shawl to cover her dress. But no one was wearing anything she could grab and her own shawl was back in the cloak room which would be impossible to get to since there was still a long line of people coming in.
Tara knew she was getting hysterical and she forced herself to calm down as she walked slowly behind the princess and her husband, the Minister of Defense, Sam Montrose. Her dress wasn’t too risqué, she told herself, trying to gain some confidence by looking at what the other women were wearing. There were many other women wearing similar dresses so she was not dressed inappropriately. Some were even more revealing than hers. She told herself that the only reason she was so nervous was because she didn’t want her co-workers, or more specifically, her boss, to see her dressed like this. She reminded herself that she’d worked hard to create a professional image in the office and this would only be a slight setback. She’d just wear all of her severe, black suits for the next week which would hopefully counter the image she was about to reveal to her boss.
As they walked, she saw Max look up. The expression in his eyes when he saw her ran the gamut of emotions. Initially, he was surprised, then delighted, then he saw her date touching her arm and his eyes slid down her figure in the sexy dress and the anger entered, and stayed.
At that moment, Tara knew that she wasn’t nervous about her co-workers’ impressions changing because of her dress. Not even about Max’s impressions of her changing. She was just plain nervous about being around Max. Would he think she was being uppity by attending the ball as a guest instead of a worker? Probably. This was not her place. And the anger on his face was proof in her mind that he was thinking the same thing.
“Good evening, Tara,” he said formally, his eyes narrowed on the man touching her elbow. “I assume this is your next blind date. Am I correct?” he asked curtly.
Tara inhaled sharply, hurt by his rudeness. “Yes,” she replied evenly, becoming angry at his bald comment. “This is Greg.” She turned to the shorter man and smiled at his confused expression. “And this man is your future ruler, the Crown Prince of Cordova, Prince Maximillian. And I can assure you he has better manners normally, but for some reason they slip away when I’m around lately,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marabeth smile, then turn to her husband and nod. Tara didn’t know what to make of that but she ignored it for now and turned to Greg. “Would you like to dance?” she asked sweetly. “This obviously isn’t the best place to be standing tonight.”
Greg faltered and looked out onto the dance floor warily. “I hate to admit this to someone as beautiful as you but I never learned how to dance,” he joked and turned back to Tara. “I’m sorry, but you really don’t want to dance with me unless you want your toes mashed and the possibility of appearing in a ‘what-not-to-do’ video,” he said self-deprecatingly.
Max immediately took Tara’s hand and tucked it into his arm. “Allow me to fill in for you,” he said without asking and started walking away with Tara on his arm.
Tara was too shocked by the feel of his arm under her fingertips and the heat of his hand that was covering her own to do anything but walk away with him. She vaguely noted that Greg beamed proudly, as if he’d done something fantastic but then Max pulled her into his arms and she couldn’t think of anything but him and the way he made her feel as they glided around the dance floor to the music.
They danced in silence for several minutes before Max spoke and his tone indicated that he was still angry. “Who is he?” Max demanded sharply. His hand slipped lower on her back and she shivered ever so slightly. If he hadn’t been staring at her, he would have missed the blush that crept into her high cheekbones.
Tara looked up into his face, confused by his attitude toward her lately. “I told you his name. Why are you angry with me? Have I done something wrong? I honestly didn’t know that he was bringing me here tonight. When he asked me out, he only said it would be a great surprise. I’m sorry if I’ve attended outside of my normal capacity as your assistant but I didn’t know he was bringing me here. Besides, that’s no excuse to be rude,” she said, and finally was able to stop her rambling.
Max looked down into her soft, blue eyes and some of his anger slipped away. Not all of it, but at least he could look at her without the jealousy taking away his sense. “You look lovely,” Max said, abruptly changing the subject he’d just initiated a moment ago. “Why haven’t you ever worn a dress like that to functions at the palace before? How does a blind date rate that kind of dress when I only rate the sedate, cautious black pieces you usually wear?” His hand slipped back up her back, unable to keep still when she looked so desirable in that satin.