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“Not much. Iwant to see and touch it to believe in its existence. And even then I have my doubts.”
Unbidden tears pricked her eyes. Had she and Rafe done that to him? Were they responsible for the coldness that iced his every word? “Why are you here?” she asked helplessly.
“To find a woman.”
For a split second hope raced through her. “What woman?”
“Doesn’t much matter so long as we can come to terms.”
She turned abruptly, the air escaping her lungs in a desperate rush. It hurt to inhale, hurt to blink, hurt to think. “What are your terms?” she asked thinly.
“Lady, we’re standing in the middle of a dance floor. Do you really want to negotiate a marriage contract here?”
“We could go downstairs and have a cup of coffee.” She desperately needed the warmth to counteract this first, brief bitter-cold conversation. “Would that do?”
“Sure.”
Realization struck and she almost burst into hysterical laughter. Her ex-husband—were they considered ex-husbands when the marriage had been annulled?—wanted to sit down and share a cup of coffee with her while discussing what he needed in a new wife. Did life get any stranger thanthat?
She glanced over her shoulder to where August had stranded Cleopatra. She'd already picked up a new swarm of admirers. “Am I taking you away from someone?”
His hand settled at the base of her spine, filling the hollow with surprising heat. “No one important.” As though realizing how callous he sounded, he added, “We weren’t on the same wavelength.”
They left the floor and the bells decorating her headdress and mask swayed, colliding with soft, excited jangles. For some reason the melodic sound reassured her. It announced change and spiritual awakening, both of which she needed very badly.
Chaz flicked one of the golden strands. “I won’t lose you in the crowd with these.”
The words seemed prophetic. “It’s easy to become lost.”
“No problem,” he claimed without hesitation. “I’d find you again.”
He hadn’t last time and hurt made her reckless. “That’s assuming you want to find me.”
His careless grin contrasted with the dead seriousness of his gaze. “Oh, I’d want to find you.”
As they left the ballroom, Shayne glanced toward the reception line. Rate and Ella were no longer there. What would they do if they discovered her with Chaz? Or was that the idea? Had her brother sent tickets to both of them in the hopes of sparking this meeting?
Once in the dining room, they bypassed the tables loaded with every conceivable delicacy and found a discreet table tucked away in the corner of the room. “I’ll get coffee,” Chaz said. “Looks like they have every sort in creation. What’s your preference?”
“Plain and black, please.”
“A hot water and beans woman, huh? And here I’d had you pegged as one of those fake coffee lovers.”
“You think I look like the cappuccino type?”
He cocked his head to one side as he assessed her. “I’d say a latte or perhaps a mochaccino.”
“Doubled or tripled?”
He regarded her in amusement. “Oh, agrande, at the very least.”
“Heavens, no! It has to be a tall skinny halfway between a flat white and a cap. No foam.” Her brows drew together as she gave it further consideration. “On second thoughts maybe I should go with a lungo or a poophead.”
He held up his hands in surrender and a smile pulled the harshness from his face, hinting at the boyishness she’d once known so intimately. “One black coffee, it is.”
“The thicker, the better?” she teased.
“I drink the type you have to cut with a knife and fork. But I’ll be a nice guy and make yours a bit weaker if that’s what you prefer.”
