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3

SHE REALLY DID NEED a friend, Natalie thought as she looked into Jonah’s eyes. A friend who would help her mother reenter the world of the living. And she specifically needed Jonah to be that friend.

But just as it had been that night in the cab, friendship was being nudged aside by something a little more exciting. She really couldn’t let that happen, at least not until she’d talked to him about her mother’s book.

Jonah handed her his drink. “If you’ll hold this a minute, I’ll go topside and see if the TV motor launch is still after us.”

“Sure.” Their fingers touched as she took his glass. Yep, the chemistry was strong between them. Watching him bound up the steps to the deck made her go all warm and tight inside. She would just have to ignore the feeling and concentrate on becoming Jonah’s good buddy instead. Maybe they could play chess.

Putting both champagne flutes on the table, she poked around the cabin but didn’t turn up a chess-board. Finally she gave up. Untying the sleeves of her sweatshirt, she hung it on an ornate hook by the door before sliding onto the leather banquette and nestling among the pillows tossed there.

The gentle rocking motion of the boat coaxed her to lean back, put her feet up and relax. After all, she should try to enjoy herself a little, considering she’d sacrificed her retirement account to be here. She’d ordered the champagne in hopes it would make her forget about the money. And here she was not even drinking it.

She picked up her drink and helped herself to a chocolate-covered strawberry. This wasn’t half-bad, she thought, biting through the chocolate into sweet red pulp. If she could forget how much this weekend was costing her, maybe she’d enjoy being pampered for a change.

As a young and inexperienced woman in the stock market, she’d had to hustle the past few years to keep her head above water. Even with her rent held lower than the other tenants’ because of an old agreement made by her great-uncle, she still didn’t have lots of cash for luxuries left over at the end of each month. Lately she’d been spending all her spare money and energy trying to lift her mother’s depression.

At least that was working. Whenever Alice wasn’t wrestling the bachelor-auction theme into her manuscript, she was brainstorming ways for Natalie to make a good impression on Jonah this weekend. The white outfit had been Alice’s idea. The illusion of purity always fascinated a man, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Natalie struggled to keep her two roles straight. In her mother’s presence she had to pretend to be crazy in love with Jonah, but in Jonah’s presence she had to squelch any sexual feelings, or risk compromising her mission. Her brain was tired from the effort, come to think of it. She ought to have another strawberry.

She closed her eyes and took a bite. When the juice spurted out, she tried to catch the runoff with her tongue before it dribbled down her chin. She missed. Damn. She should have been more careful. Her illusion of purity was probably compromised. Opening her eyes, she glanced down at the front of her blouse. A red dot marked the exact position of her left nipple. She grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at it, which only spread the stain and made her nipple pucker under the soft material.

A soft sound drew her attention to the stairs, and she realized Jonah had been standing there for several seconds. Even across the distance separating them, she could feel the heat in his gaze. Unfortunately her body was responding to that heat. This buddy plan wasn’t working too well.

He cleared his throat and walked over to sit on the opposite end of the banquette. He picked up his champagne glass and drained it before he spoke. “The launch is still keeping up with us. The captain says there’s not much he can do about it, as long as they don’t come close enough to be any kind of navigational danger.”

“So what do you think we should do?” It came out sounding much more suggestive than she’d meant it to. She couldn’t help it if being nervous made her voice husky. And she was definitely a wee bit nervous being alone with him. The look he’d given her a minute ago hadn’t worn off yet, either.

He put down his glass and turned, his glance dropping to the red spot on her blouse, then moving back to her face. “I think you’d better tell me what you expect for your thirty-three thousand.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then I’ll be more clear. Do you expect that before this weekend is over I’ll make love to you?”

The idea sent a thrill of reaction through her system. “Of course not! What sort of woman do you think I am?”

“Damned if I know!” He scooted across the banquette and leaned toward her. “And if you don’t want sex, I have no earthly idea what you do expect for your thirty-three grand, lady. It’s making me nervous.”

Her chin came up. “All I expect is a fun weekend.”

He leaned closer, obviously ready for a fight. “And what, may I ask, is your definition of fun?”

She got right in his face, irritated with his automatic assumptions about her. “Probably the same as yours, buster.” Even if she was mad at him, he smelled nice. And she’d never noticed that freckle high on his cheekbone, or the way his lashes curled.

“I doubt it.” His eyes darkened. “I can just imagine what sort of wild, exotic experience you’d consider worth all that money.”

“Oh, can you?” She thought maybe his imagination was affecting his breathing, because it wasn’t much steadier than hers.

He drifted closer still, and his voice took on a husky tone. “We might as well settle the main issue right now.”

“I’m all for that.” She loved watching his mouth, and the dimple that flashed in his cheek when he talked.

“I have…absolutely…no intention…of making love to you.”

“That’s good, because I have absolutely…no intention…of making love to you…either.”

His kiss came hard and fast, but not fast enough to suit her. She wanted to be gobbled up, consumed by the fire. He plunged his tongue deep, and she moaned with delight. This was good, very good. Pushing her down against the leather bench, he began working at the buttons of her blouse as he continued to kiss her breathless.

She pulled his knit shirt from the waistband of his slacks and ran her hands up underneath to feel the play of muscles across his broad back. To touch him was heaven. And to be touched was…unbelievable. She gasped as he unfastened her bra and cupped her breast in his supple fingers. It was the right touch, the one she’d waited for, dreamed of, thought might be an illusion.

Bells rang. Or rather, one bell rang, quite persistently.

He lifted his mouth from hers.

Slowly she opened her eyes to gaze up at him.

“Lunch,” he murmured.

She struggled to speak. “Let’s…skip it.”

“If we…” He paused to take a deep breath. “If we don’t go up, they’re liable to come down after us.”

“Oh.”

He stroked his thumb across her nipple. “I meant what I said.”

“Okay.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she absorbed the ecstasy of that gentle caress. “About what?”

“I’m not going to make love to you.”

She clenched her jaw. She’d gone and forgotten her mission again. This was going to be a tougher assignment than she’d thought. “That’s good, because I’m not going to make love to you, either.”

“You’re not?” He sounded disappointed.

She opened her eyes and strengthened her resolve. “Nope.”

“Is that reverse psychology?”

“It’s the truth.”

“So no matter how I coaxed you, you’d say no.”

“That’s right.” Scooting out from under him, she sat up and reached behind her back to refasten her bra.

He cleared his throat. “Well, then we both understand each other.”

“I think we do.” She glanced down at the stain on her blouse. It should be put to soak or it might be permanent, and this was a good blouse.

“I’m glad we cleared the air and settled everything.”

“Me, too.” She’d just take the blouse off and rinse it, she decided.

“And I think it’s—what are you doing?”

“Taking off my blouse. What does it look like?”

“Natalie, please don’t do that.”

“I need to put it in some water to soak or it will be ruined.” Carrying the blouse, she walked back to the galley.

“How do you expect me to stick to my decision if you’re going to parade around practically naked?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sticking to mine. But if it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me my sweatshirt?”

“Okay.”

She found a little liquid soap and rubbed it vigorously into the spot.

“Here’s your sweatshirt.”

She glanced up and noticed his gaze riveted on her cleavage.

He shoved the sweatshirt at her. “Please.”

She dried her hands on a nearby towel and took the sweatshirt. “Thanks.” Then she pulled it over her head and fluffed her hair with her fingers.

He leaned in the doorway of the galley, watching her. “I like your hair.”

“Me, too. Just wash, dry and go.”

He nodded, as if he approved of that approach. “Why are you worried about the blouse? Couldn’t you just buy another one?”

“I don’t operate that way. I like this blouse, and I might not find another one exactly like it, so I’d rather take care of this one and make sure I have it for a while.”

He gazed at her, his expression speculative. “You don’t talk like rich women usually talk. Or the way I imagine they would.”

“Maybe you’re stereotyping.”

“Maybe I am.” He pushed away from the doorjamb. “Let’s go up on deck and have some lunch.”

“The TV people may still be hanging around.”

He shrugged those broad shoulders. “Then they’ll get boring footage of two people eating.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Besides, she had to get out of this cozy little cabin. She headed for the stairs. “Maybe the best way to get rid of them is to go up there and demonstrate there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yeah, right.”

Something in his tone made her glance back at him.

He looked defensive. “Okay, I think it’s stupid that you paid all that money to spend time with me, but I have to admit it’s kind of a turn-on, too.”

“No, really?” She gave him an exaggerated look of surprise and breezed past him up the stairs.

LUNCH WAS SOMETHING right out of the movies, Jonah thought, and he was sitting across from a starlet in casual clothes and dark glasses. To complete the illusion, they had a camera crew keeping pace with the Satin Doll.

“Just ignore them,” Natalie said. She picked up a jumbo shrimp and dipped it in cocktail sauce.

“I guess you’re right.” He thanked Suzanne, who’d just refilled his champagne flute. Then he spread a cracker with warm Brie. “Why should we ruin a great meal like this worrying about being on Candid Camera?” Natalie looked terrific, he thought. The breeze ruffled her short hair and brought a pink blush to her cheeks.

Or maybe the blush had something to do with that scene in the cabin. God, she was hot. Apparently she was as turned on by this bizarre situation as he was. Maybe that was her motivation in the first place, to buy a guy for the weekend and tease him to death. She could be into power.

If so, she was on a roll. Watching her dip another plump shrimp in cocktail sauce and nibble her way to the tail was giving him an erection.

“Do you have a job?” he asked. Mundane conversation might keep his mind off sex.

“Of course.” She wiped her fingers on her napkin. “I’m a stockbroker.”

“You must be pretty good at it.”

“I do okay.” She peeled a leaf from her steamed artichoke and dipped it in melted butter. “How about you? I know all firefighters don’t do the same job. What’s your specialty?”

He struggled to remember her question as she raked the meat off the artichoke leaf with her even white teeth. Either all the food was designed to be sensuous or he was becoming obsessed. “I’m the forcible-entry man.”

“Really?” Her mouth turned up at the corners. “That sounds very macho.”

“It’s not.”

“Of course you wouldn’t think so, Mr. Modest.” She glanced over his shoulder. “I hate to tell you this, but there’s another motorboat on the other side of us, and somebody’s got a video camera pointed in our direction. They’re probably just tourists who think we’re famous.”

“Or they work for a tabloid.” Jonah didn’t bother to turn around. No use letting them have a good shot of his face. “Don’t you think this is getting out of hand?”

“Yeah, but what can we do about it?” She reached for another jumbo shrimp. “At least they’re not making much noise.”

A helicopter headed their way.

“Guess again,” Jonah shouted as the helicopter swooped overhead, turned and made another pass.

Natalie glanced up at the helicopter as she chewed her shrimp. “Unbelievable,” she said as she swallowed and glanced back at him. Then her eyes widened and she started to gasp for air.

Jonah’s chair crashed to the deck as he leaped around the table and pulled her out of her seat. Circling her in his arms, he clasped his hands under her breastbone and applied quick upward pressure. Her sunglasses flew off and the piece of shrimp that had lodged in her windpipe sailed across the table and landed on the deck.

Suzanne and Eric hurried toward them.

“Is she okay?” Eric asked.

“I think she’ll be fine in a minute.” Jonah supported Natalie gently as she took several long, shaky breaths.

“Wow. I’ve never seen anybody react that quick.” Suzanne picked up Natalie’s sunglasses. “No wonder you’re a hero.”

“I’m definitely not a hero,” Jonah said. “Anybody would have—”

“Not true,” Natalie said, her voice slightly hoarse as she extricated herself and turned to him. “Not just anybody would have saved my dog, either.” She cleared her throat and gave him a tremulous smile. “First my dog, now me. It seems I owe you a great deal, Jonah.” A warm light shone in her eyes.

“You don’t owe me a thing.” But as he looked in her eyes, he wondered what form her gratitude might take, and if he’d be strong enough to refuse it.

IN THE FACE OF Jonah’s heroic and sexy persona, Natalie struggled to keep sight of her original goal. She needed to get her mother’s request on the table soon, before she accidentally forgot herself again and ended up in his arms. But she hadn’t figured out exactly how to broach the subject. She still wasn’t sure Jonah would cooperate, especially if he thought he’d be identified somehow as the hero of the novel.

To give herself time to think, she suggested they spend the rest of the afternoon on deck, and Jonah readily agreed. That helped some, until Jonah got his chance to take the wheel. Natalie watched him grin with pleasure as he guided the sleek craft up the river, and she began to ache something fierce. Keeping her distance wasn’t the easiest job she’d ever had.

Except for the helicopter that continued to dog their progress and the boats cruising alongside the yacht, the day was perfect. The sky looked as if someone had scrubbed it that morning before turning on the sunlight, and the wind blew enough to fill the sails without blasting the passengers off the deck. The new green of spring covered the hillsides along the river, and Natalie had a moment’s daydream of sailing the boat all the way to Lake Champlain, alone with Jonah.

But that wasn’t her goal, so she had to be glad they had chaperons galore. They kept the conversation light. As they passed Sleepy Hollow they compared notes on how much the Headless Horseman had scared them as kids. That led to a discussion of childhood, and she found out he was the oldest of four and an Eagle Scout. He learned that she was an only child who had never made it past Brownies.

At one point she slipped in the information that her father had died six months earlier, and the look of sympathy in his eyes made her want to snuggle in his arms, but she didn’t. Besides, the cameras still rolled, and she’d begun to resent them almost as much as Jonah did.

On the trip back, they took turns going below and changing into their dinner clothes. Jonah went first, and the whole time he was belowdecks Natalie imagined him undressing. No matter how she tried to distract herself, she pictured what he’d look like without his shirt, without his pants, without a stitch on that glorious body.

Jonah’s transformation to dinner jacket and tie made her catch her breath.

“Am I okay?” he asked as he joined her on deck.

She looked him up and down. “More than okay,” she said with a smile.

But when it was her turn to appear in her red cocktail dress, she was a bundle of nerves. She never remembered caring so much how a man reacted to her outfit. Twilight had arrived by the time she stepped out on deck, and Jonah stood at the railing gazing at the jeweled skyline of the city slipping by. He must have heard the click of her heels, because he turned as she started toward him.

He didn’t say a word as he held out his hand. She should have ignored his gesture. Touching him was a dangerous occupation, even with chaperons around preparing the yacht for docking. When she placed her hand in his firm grip, she looked into his eyes and her heartbeat quickened. There was no mistaking the message in his eyes, no matter what he had promised her or himself. He wanted her.

“Do I look okay?” There was that husky nervousness again.

“Okay doesn’t even come close to describing how you look,” he said, drawing her over beside him as he returned his attention to the sparkle of lights. He stared at the skyline as his hand tightened over hers. “If you planned to seduce me this weekend, you’re doing a hell of a job.”

“Believe me, I didn’t plan to do that.”

He glanced down at her. “Then I guess you’re just a natural.”

She looked away from his compelling gaze and swallowed. As she focused on the lights of Manhattan, she prayed she’d be able to keep her wits about her for just a few hours more. Soon she’d find the right moment to tell him about her mother’s book. Soon.

4

AN IVORY STRETCH LIMO sat at the dock, apparently waiting for them. So was another television van and a crowd of women holding signs proclaiming their love of Jonah. He winced. “Looks like we won’t be sneaking over to the heliport.”

Natalie pulled her white furry coat closer against the evening chill. “Nope, but once we’re in that chopper, we should be okay. It’ll just be the pilot and us, high above this nonsense. I have to admit it gets old fast.”

Jonah glanced at her, wondering just how much she’d like to ditch this public performance. He was forming some ideas about how they might do that. “It’ll be a zoo again once we hit the Plaza.”

“I suppose.” Natalie sighed as Eric lowered the gangplank of the Satin Doll. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a movie star. But if this is what it’s like, I’m glad it turned out I couldn’t act.”

Suzanne approached them. “Thank you for sailing with us,” she said.

“It was great,” Jonah said. “Thanks for letting me take the wheel for a while. She handles like a dream.”

“You’re welcome.” Suzanne hesitated. “Could I—would you give me your autograph, Jonah? It’s for my daughter,” she said quickly, pulling a piece of paper and a pen from her slacks pocket. “Her name’s Gretchen, and she just got a little black puppy. She named him Bobo, and she would be thrilled if—”

“Sure.” Jonah took the pen and paper before the moment dragged on any longer. He wrote a quick note to Gretchen and handed everything back to Suzanne. “And please tell Gretchen that you met me and I’m not seven feet tall, and I don’t leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

Suzanne smiled. “I was planning to tell her you’re a great guy, just as wonderful as she imagines you are.”

A flush worked its way up from his neck. “Uh, thanks. Well, I guess we’d better get going. Ready, Natalie?”

She glanced at him, a twinkle in her gray eyes. “Are you certain you can’t fly? It would sure come in handy right now to be able to go right over the heads of all those people on the dock.”

“Very funny.” He glanced at Eric, who had a grip on their overnight cases and seemed ready to run interference for them. “Say, Eric, where were you figuring on stashing those?” he asked.

“In the trunk of the limo,” Eric said. “Would you rather have them up with you?”

“I just want to keep this operation simple,” Jonah said. “So let’s not bother with the trunk. Just heave them in and we’ll jump in right afterward.”

“Got it.”

Jonah took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.” He wrapped a protective arm around Natalie’s shoulders and lowered his head against the glare from the lights as they stepped off the gangplank. “We’re not stopping.”

“Right.”

Holding her tight against him, he shouldered his way through the crowd behind Eric, ignoring the camera lenses, microphones and shouted questions. Ahead of him the uniformed limo driver opened the passenger door. Eric put the overnight cases inside and jumped back just as Jonah shoved Natalie in.

“Get in and drive!” Jonah shouted to the chauffeur, who seemed to think he had to hold the door for Jonah, too. Jonah leaped in and wrestled the door shut as someone tried to keep him from closing it. At last the locks clicked into place and he sagged with relief as the car edged away from the crowd.

“Are you okay?” Natalie sat in the far corner, looking small and vulnerable, her eyes wide.

“I’m okay.” He didn’t see any obvious scrapes or bruises on her delicate skin. “Are you?”

“Physically. But it sure messes with your head, being part of a mob scene like that, doesn’t it?”

Jonah closed his eyes and leaned back against the plush upholstery. “Yep.” He took a deep breath. “You know what’s the worst part?”

“What?”

He kept his eyes closed and willed his tense muscles to relax. “I was raised to be polite, to respond to people with courtesy when they approached me. I can’t do that anymore, because now everyone wants something.”

“I…guess they do.”

“And then I see some of the looks on the faces of those women, and my heart goes out to them. They need someone to speak a kind word to them, to smile, to ask them how they’re doing. And I don’t dare.”

He felt a light touch on his arm and opened his eyes.

Natalie had scooted over next to him and rested her hand on the sleeve of his sport coat. “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard anyone say.”

God, she was beautiful, especially when she got that soft look in her eyes. The leather seat reminded him of the one down in the cabin of the boat, which reminded him of what she’d felt like beneath him. He wanted her in his arms again, wanted to kiss her and touch her the way he had this morning. “I wasn’t trying to be sweet. I just—”

“You just can’t help it,” she said. “You’re a decent human being, and so you just can’t help being such a nice guy.”

He sat up straighter and smiled at her. “Don’t push it. I wasn’t having such sweet thoughts about you just now.”

Her cheeks grew rosy and she glanced down at his sleeve. Slowly she removed her hand. “You know, I’m not so different from all those women you’ve been trying to stay away from.”

“You mean aside from the fact that you’re twenty times better-looking than any of them, and probably twenty times richer, and you’ve promised not to go to bed with me under any circumstance? Other than that, yeah, I guess you’re just like them.”

The blush on her cheeks deepened and she glanced away. “I am. I want something, just like they do.”

Aha. He’d been afraid from the beginning that she had an agenda. He’d hoped to be wrong, but apparently not. He wondered if it was something kinky, or illegal, or kinky and illegal. She looked innocent enough, but he’d only spent a few hours with her. How could he claim to know whether that innocence was a cover-up for all sorts of weird cravings? And damned if the idea didn’t excite him. Even straight arrows could be tempted.

As his imagination worked overtime, his question came out sounding gruffer than he’d meant it to. “What do you want?”

She glanced at him uncertainly. “Maybe this isn’t the time to discuss it.”

“That wild, huh?”

“No, it’s just—”

“Just what?” he asked softly, his heart pounding. He should have guessed that a woman with her looks and her money had become bored with traditional sex. She probably didn’t want to go to bed with him because she was saving him for something far more elaborate than a simple roll in the hay. When he’d asked if she expected him to make love to her this weekend, she’d probably laughed to herself at his conventional ideas.

The limo slid to a stop and the engine stopped.

“We can talk about it later,” she said. “Maybe after the helicopter ride.”

He was more aroused than he cared to admit, and a little afraid he wasn’t up to whatever she had in mind. “Remember you’re not dealing with some swinging playboy.”

“That’s why you’re so perfect for this.” She smiled at him. “You’re even an Eagle Scout.” The limo driver opened her door and she stepped outside.

So that was her agenda, he thought. She planned to corrupt an Eagle Scout.

NATALIE HAD LOST HER NERVE, but as she strapped herself into the helicopter seat she decided everything had worked out for the best. They wouldn’t have had enough time to discuss her mother’s book before the helicopter ride, and doing it during the ride was totally impossible. She sat in front, next to the pilot, with Jonah directly behind her. They’d dodged the usual crowd to get to the helicopter, but once through the gate they’d been protected by a wire fence that cordoned off the landing pad.

She’d never been in a helicopter before, and her stomach tickled with excitement as she looked down through the bubble of glass that curved under her feet. Once again she reminded herself to soak up this experience—after all, she’d paid for it. The whirling blades made a lot of noise, but the pilot handed each of them a headset which provided symphony music that pretty much drowned out the heavy thumping of the rotors.

The helicopter lifted off and her stomach lurched as the ground fell away beneath her. The pilot swung the chopper out over the river, its dark surface a mirror of color and light. They glided downriver past the harbor, heading straight for the Statue of Liberty’s torch. Natalie’s heart pounded with anticipation as they grew closer, and closer still, until she felt as if she could touch the great lady’s cheek.

After a majestic sweep around the giant statue, the pilot aimed for the financial district and the sparkling towers of the World Trade Center. He must have had a taste for drama, because as the violins swelled to a crescendo he brought them down a little and then straight up, as if they were scaling the glittering side of the building.

As they sailed up and over, headed toward Midtown, Natalie was so overcome with the beauty of it that she impulsively reached out to Jonah over the back of her seat. Instantly his hand was there, clasping hers.

They rode that way, hands linked, as the pilot soared over the distinctive scalloped lights atop the Chrysler Building and the brilliant center of Times Square. The helicopter made a tight circle above the Empire State Building while Natalie gasped at a spectacular three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the island she called home. Never had it looked more magnificent.

As the pilot reached the darker portion of the landscape that was Central Park, Natalie squeezed Jonah’s hand. For better or worse, that was where this whole crazy business had started. He squeezed back.

The pilot made one more sweep over Midtown before returning to the heliport. Reluctantly, Natalie released Jonah’s hand. As the rotors quieted, she took her headphones off. She was shaking with delight. She’d save her money and take this flight again. Of course, she probably wouldn’t take it with Jonah. And that, she realized, might make all the difference.

She turned to the pilot. “That was amazing.” She unfastened her seat belt and swiveled in her seat. “Wasn’t that fantastic, Jonah?”

“Unbelievable,” Jonah agreed. “Thanks.”

“Glad you liked it.” The pilot grinned. “I get a charge out of it myself, no matter how many times I take people up.” He nodded toward a group of people just outside the fence. “Looks like your fans waited for you.”

Natalie glanced at the crowd and quailed. If possible, there seemed to be more people than before. “How much would you take to fly us back out of here?” she asked, half-serious about the prospect. She didn’t have much money, but she still had a credit card in her purse.

“Sorry. Can’t do it,” the pilot said. “The folks who hired me would have my hide if we didn’t stick to the schedule.”

“We don’t want to get you in trouble,” Jonah said. “Let’s go.”

Once again in the protective curve of Jonah’s arm, Natalie pushed through the mob of people and managed to get inside the limo with Jonah close behind. After the vehicle pulled away, they sat in silence for several long moments.

Finally Jonah turned to her. “Would you really like to ditch this program?”

She remembered the claustrophobia and panic she’d felt as she’d battled her way through the crowd. She thought about eating dinner at the Plaza with dozens of pairs of eyes watching every bite she took. Maybe she’d have some privacy once she was locked in her room, but then she’d be a prisoner. And the next morning she’d be living under a microscope.

“I would love to ditch this program,” she said.

“That’s all I needed to know.” He reached out and pulled her overnight case toward them. “You’d better change into your other shoes if we’re going to make a run for it.”

She grinned at him. “We’re literally going to run away?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” She had her deck shoes on and her scarlet pumps tucked into her overnight case by the time they reached the Plaza. As a doorman approached the limo, she automatically took money for a tip out of her purse.