The MacGregor Grooms Read Free Page B

see. Do you always drive like this?”
    “Like what?”
    “Like you’re at the wheel of a getaway car after a bank robbery?”
    He thought about it, smiling at her description. “Yeah.”
    He made the turn to the hotel and pulled in with a cocky squeal of brakes. “Saves time,” he said easily, then unfolded those long legs and climbed out of the car.
    Layna sat where she was, catching her breath, offering up her gratitude that she’d arrived in one piece. She hadn’t moved a muscle by the time D.C. rounded the hood, passed the keys to the valet and opened her door.
    “You’re going to want to unhook your seat belt.” He waited while she did so, then took her hand to help her out. It brought them close, made him aware of her scent again, the texture and shape of her hand.
    She was a looker, all right, he mused. Sea-siren eyes in a cameo face. An intriguing contrast. Though portraiture wasn’t the heart of his work, he sometimes sketched faces that interested him.
    He imagined he’d be compelled to sketch hers.
    Her legs were still weak, but she was alive. Layna drew one deep, steadying breath. “People like you shouldn’t be issued a driver’s license and should never be allowed behind the wheel of a car for any reason, particularly that soup can on wheels.”
    “It’s a Porsche.” Because she didn’t seem inclined to move on her own, he kept her hand and pulled her into the hotel lobby. “If you’d wanted me to slow down, why didn’t you just ask?”
    “I was too busy praying.”
    He grinned at that, a quick flash of humor. It didn’t detract from the danger of his face by a whit. Layna would have said it only added to it.
    “Looks like your prayers were answered. Where the hell are we going here?”
    Setting her teeth, Layna turned to the bank of elevators and jabbed the button. Then she stepped in ahead of him and jabbed the proper button for the proper ballroom, simmering.
    Behind her back, D.C. rolled his eyes. “You know …” What the hell was her name? “Layna, if you’re going to sulk, this is going to be a very long, tedious evening.”
    She kept her eyes trained straight ahead and kept a choke hold on her temper. She knew it was a bad one, tending toward blasts of sarcasm if she didn’t maintain control. “I don’t sulk.” Her voice had as much warmth as winter in Winnipeg.
    Only deeply ingrained manners prevented her from stalking off the elevator the minute the doors slid open. Instead she stepped off, turned gracefully and waited for him to stand beside her.
    Temper put color in her cheeks, D.C. noted as he took her arm. Added passion to a cool and classic face. If he’d had any interest in her, he thought he’d make it his business to put that color there, that snap in her eyes, as often as possible.
    But since he didn’t, and he wanted to get through the evening as smoothly and painlessly as possible, he would placate. “Sorry.”
    Sorry, she thought as he guided her into the ballroom. That was it? That was all? Obviously he hadn’t inherited any of his father’s diplomatic skills or his mother’s charm.
    At least the room was full of people and sound. Layna wouldn’t be stuck making conversation with a graceless oaf all night. As soon as manners permitted, she intended to separate and find someone sensible to chat with.
    “Wine?” he asked her. “White?”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    He’d pegged her there, D.C. mused as he got her a glass and selected a beer for himself. He could only be grateful that his adored meddler of a grandfather wasn’t playing matchmaker this time around.
    “There you are!” Myra hurried over, both hands extended. Oh, didn’t they make a handsome couple? She couldn’t wait to tell Daniel how striking their babies looked together. “D.C, you’re sinfully handsome.” She tilted her head as he bent down to kiss her cheek.
    “Did you save a dance for me?”
    “Of course. Your parents are here. Why don’t you come sit with us awhile?”