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  “Of course,” she said. “Julian, this is Mr. Hudson Chase. Mr. Chase, this is Julian Laurent.”

  The pretty boy extended his hand, but not before flipping his hair like he’d just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. “Marquis Julian Laurent,” he said, emphasizing a title that was nothing more than a mouthful of elegant bullshit.

  Hudson’s glare narrowed on this grade-A prick. The guy was sizing him up as if he was wearing Men’s Warehouse instead of custom-tailored Armani. There were two options, he decided: mock the smug son of a bitch or serve him up a bunch of “fuck off.”

  Option two was arguably not a terrible idea.

  Instead he slid his hand off Alessandra’s waist and extended his arm. “Mr. Laurent.”

  “Mr. Chase has generously pledged a million dollars to the foundation,” Alessandra said.

  Abruptly, Julian’s eyes locked on Hudson’s. His expression was one of pure arrogance. “People donate what they can.”

  Option two was beginning to look really good. It would take a minute tops, he thought, to flatten this bastard.

  Julian’s stare drifted from Hudson and he smiled. “Alessandra, some guests want to speak with you.”

  Hudson’s mouth curved, unable to suppress his amusement at being dismissed. Saving his PR department a clusterfuck of spin doctoring, he dipped his head in a polite bow. “Thank you for the dance, Alessandra,” he said, carefully enunciating her name.

  He turned away and the shift was palpable. One encounter with her and the control he’d so carefully mastered was nearly shredded. Every muscle tensed to fight the urge to go after her, to press her against a wall in the dark recesses of the museum and fuck ten years of unresolved lust out of his system. Instead he searched the dense mass of partygoers for his date. Stalking toward her, he caught her wrist. “We’re leaving.”

  Sophia set her half-empty champagne glass on a table as they hurried toward the door. “We just got here and I was . . .”

  Hudson glared over his shoulder, effectively silencing her. He reached inside his jacket, yanked his phone out of his breast pocket, and ordered in a string of clipped, single syllable words, “Pull the car up.”

  He practically dragged her down the stone steps of the museum, the click-clack of those skyscraper heels, which would look fan-fucking-tastic over his shoulders, echoing behind them. By the time they reached the bottom of the steps, the sleek black car was waiting. Hudson urged Sophia through the open limo door and gave the driver a cursory glance.

  “Drive until I say otherwise,” he said, unknotting his tie and ducking inside.

  ***

  Allie pushed through the museum doors, welcoming the gust of crisp air. The night had been a huge success. Final numbers wouldn’t be tallied until Monday morning, but all indications were they’d met their goal. She took a deep breath and inhaled . . . smoke? She turned to find Julian cupping his hand around a lighter. “No smoking within fifteen feet of the building,” she reminded him.

  “Damn Americans,” he said, talking around a cigarette defying gravity as it dangled from his lips. “Ridiculous laws.”

  “It’s meant to protect people from inhaling secondhand smoke.”

  Julian threw his arms out wide. “There’s no one here, Alessandra.”

  “I really wish you’d quit,” she suggested softly.

  A stream of smoke filled the space between them. “I’ll quit when I’m dead.”

  “You didn’t have to be so rude.” She started down the stairs and Julian followed.

  “Fine. I’ll put it out.” He sounded like a petulant teen.

  “I’m not talking about your cigarette. I meant earlier, with that donor.”

  “What donor?”

  “The one who pledged a million dollars.” She couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud.

  Julian stopped short. “I thought I was very courteous considering he had his hands all over my date.”

  “We were only dancing.”

  He gave a harsh laugh before continuing down the concrete steps toward the valet. Allie joined him a few moments later and they waited side by side for their limo. A breeze blew across Lake Michigan, sending a cloud of smoke in Allie’s direction. She turned her head and moved closer to the water’s edge. The bright lights of the Navy Pier Ferris wheel blinked patterns of red and gold. Her thoughts drifted as she watched it turn. Had it really been ten years? When she closed her eyes, the memories played through her mind as if it were only yesterday.

  The wind kicked up again and she shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Hudson asked her.

  “I’m fine.” She smiled. The summer wind wasn’t the reason Allie shivered. It was Hudson, sitting so close, that made her tremble.

  “Here, let me warm you up.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling Allie tight against him. “I think you can see the whole town from up here.”

  Allie hadn’t noticed. Their car had been perched at the top of the carnival’s Ferris wheel for several minutes now as they waited for passengers to load, but she’d barely noticed the view. She couldn’t take her eyes off Hudson Chase. With his black T-shirt, faded jeans, and motorcycle boots, Hudson was what her mother would have called a thug. But Allie knew better. And there, high above the town, no other opinion mattered.

  She wanted to stay at the top of that Ferris wheel forever.

  “You know,” he said, a devious smile on his face. “If we’re going to be here a while . . .” Allie’s heart raced as Hudson leaned closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “We might as well make good use of the time.”

  The ride lurched forward and Hudson cursed under his breath as they were swiftly lowered to the exit platform. Allie tried her best to stifle a giggle.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” Hudson asked. He climbed out of the car and offered her his hand.

  “Actually, yes,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  He gave her hand a sharp tug, pulling her body flush against his. Her breath caught in her throat as his blue eyes locked on hers.

  “Hudson!” A voice called out.

  Hudson dropped his chin. “This just isn’t my night,” he mumbled.

  Allie covered her mouth to hide her smile as Hudson’s little brother, Nick, ran up, completely out of breath. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  Hudson laced his fingers with hers. “What’s up, little man?”

  “Can I have a dollar?”

  “Why do you need a dollar?” Hudson asked, running his free hand through his unruly brown hair.

  Nick bounced on the balls of his feet. “I want to play darts.”

  “Darts?”

  “Yeah. If you break three balloons, you win this awesome remote control race car. Pleeeeeease,” he begged, his words coming out in a rush. “It’s super cool. It’s got flames up the side and these wicked chrome hubcaps. It can spin up on two wheels and make jumps this long.” Nick stretched his arms out as far as he could.

  Hudson laughed. “Okay, okay. I get the picture.” He turned to Allie. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.” Allie couldn’t say no to Nick any more than she could resist his charming older brother.

  Hudson flashed her a grin before turning back to Nick. “Lead the way.”

  The first three darts clattered to the ground. Nick’s big brown eyes turned glassy but he shook it off. “Probably a piece of crap anyway.”

  “Hey, watch your mouth, little man.”

  Nick’s face fell. “Sorry.”

  Hudson reached into his back pocket for the wallet he kept secured with a silver chain. “Here, let me give it a try.”

  Allie watched as Hudson peeled bill after bill out of his wallet. Best she could tell he’d gone through a full shift’s worth of tips by the time he popped three green balloons in a row.

  “What color do you want, Nicky?”

  Nick walked over to the glass display case. He chewed on his thumbnail as his eyes roamed from o
ne car to the next. After a few minutes he motioned for Hudson to bend down and whispered something in his ear. Allie couldn’t hear all of what he said, but she definitely picked up on the word “girlfriend” said with the kind of exaggeration reserved especially for teasing older siblings. Allie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the look on Hudson’s face, but a moment later his expression grew serious.

  “But what about the ‘super cool’ race car?” he asked.

  Nick looked at Allie as he whispered his reply.

  “Are you sure?” Hudson asked.

  Nick responded with a huge grin and a nod. The two boys huddled together in front of the glass case. Allie saw Hudson point to something, and when he turned around, he was holding a seashell anklet.

  “Nick gave up his prize.” Hudson’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “Wanted me to pick something for you.”

  “Aww, thank you, Nick. That was very sweet of you.” She leaned down and planted a kiss on Nick’s cheek. “I love it.”

  “Here.” Hudson held out a couple bucks. Nick grabbed the cash and took off, his cheeks blazing red.

  “Will you do the honors?”

  Hudson dropped to one knee. He wrapped the delicate string of shells around Allie’s ankle and fastened the clasp. When he finished, his hand lingered. Her skin tingled as he slowly brushed his fingertips up her leg, tracing a pattern as he worked his way to the hem of her yellow-and-white sundress.

  “So what about me, Allie?” he asked, looking up at her from beneath long dark lashes. “Do I get a kiss, too?”

  “What are you waiting for, Alessandra?” a voice asked from behind her.

  Allie startled, brought back to the present day by the sound of her name. She turned to find Julian standing by the open limo door. He waved his hand impatiently, his cigarette glowing as if he were landing an aircraft. “In the car, s’il vous plaît.”

  Allie ducked into the limo. Julian dropped his cigarette on the sidewalk before sliding in beside her. “Peninsula Hotel,” he told the driver.

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’d just like to go to my place.”

  He glanced at her before amending his instructions. “Still one stop. North Astor. Fourteen hundred block.”

  “I’m really very tired, Julian. I’d rather just go to bed. Alone.” She met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror and held up two fingers. “Two stops, please.”

  Julian blew out a harsh breath. “You’ve spent the whole evening working the crowd, talking to everyone.”

  After a beat, he angled his body toward hers and ran his knuckles up and down her arm. His chin lowered so that he looked up at her from beneath the tousle of light brown hair that fell in a sexy mess across one eye. “What about a little time for me?” he whispered, his accent caressing her every bit as much as his touch. Normally that was all it took to reduce her to an agreeable puddle. But not this time.

  The air in the limo felt thick and warm and her temples throbbed.

  “It’s been a long night and I have a terrible headache. I think the stress of this event has finally taken its toll.”

  Julian’s expression hardened. He dropped his hand and straightened in his seat.

  Allie sighed. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. But it was late and she’d hardly slept the past few days. After a good night’s sleep she’d feel more like herself.

  “I’m sorry.” She reached across the seat and covered his fingers with hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. When he looked at her, she offered a reassuring smile. “Rain check for tomorrow?”

  He pulled his hand free and reached into his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “Fine. Rain check.” The lighter flamed to life and Julian took a long drag, cursing under his breath as he exhaled. “C’est des conneries.”

  Cracking the window, Allie stared out across the dark lake as the lights of the Ferris wheel glowed in the distance.

  Chapter Three

  Allie could hardly believe what she was hearing. She listened intently, pressing the phone to her ear as she tried to commit every word to memory. A flash of red hair caught her eye as Harper charged through the door. She was in the midst of an exaggerated U-turn when Allie waved her into the office.

  “You’re very kind, but it really was a team effort,” Allie said into the phone.

  Harper’s pleated miniskirt fanned out across her lap as she collapsed into one of the small upholstered chairs facing Allie’s desk. The pattern of bright polka dots was accented perfectly by the multicolored bangles stacked high on her wrist. Although she could never pull it off herself, Allie loved Harper’s quirky style, a cross between Phoebe on Friends and Jess from New Girl, with a dash of Joan from Mad Men thrown into the mix.

  “I will. And thank you again for thinking of me.”

  Harper raised a single brow. “What was that all about?” she asked the moment Allie hung up the phone.

  Allie rounded her desk and shut her office door. “That was Oliver Harris.”

  Harper looked confused.

  “From the Harris Group.”

  The lightbulb turned on. “The PR firm?”

  Allie nodded. “Apparently Mr. Harris was at the museum Saturday night. He was just calling this morning to tell me how much he enjoyed the event.” She shuffled a few papers on her desk, trying to play it cool. “And to offer me a job.”

  Harper’s eyes grew wide. “No way!”

  Allie broke into a huge grin. “He asked me to join his nonprofit division and oversee all event planning.”

  “Shit, that’s big time. They’re the ones who did that huge fund-raiser in Lincoln Park last summer.”

  “At the zoo?”

  “Yup. And I heard it was amazing. They even had Neon Trees.”

  “What are neon trees?”

  “They’re not a what, Alessandra, they’re a who. A band, actually.”

  Having no clue, Allie shrugged.

  The look Harper gave her only reinforced Allie’s belief that her friend considered her a total nerd when it came to her choice in music. “Oh, c’mon, you have to know who they are.” As if to prove her point, Harper sang a few lines. “Hey, baby won’t you look my way; I can be your new addiction.”

  Allie laughed at Harper’s pitchy vocals and bobbing head. “Okay, okay . . . yes, I’ve heard the song.”

  Harper stopped her impromptu concert. “So when do you start?”

  Allie sank into her chair. “I don’t.”

  “Come again?”

  “I thanked Mr. Harris for thinking of me and told him how flattered I was, but that I couldn’t possibly leave my position at Better Start.” With the first charter school only up and running for a little over a month, and the groundbreaking for the second scheduled to take place in the spring, there was no way she could even consider it.

  “Look, no one would miss you around here more than me, but I don’t see how you can pass this up. Sounds like your dream come true.”

  Under normal circumstances that might have been the case, but Alessandra Sinclair’s life was anything but normal. As the daughter of Victoria Ingram, she’d been born into a family whose name was mentioned in the same breath as Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, and Hearst. With that life of privilege came certain responsibilities, and at the top of that list was family. Nearly every part of Allie’s life was connected to Ingram Media somehow. Always had been. Her grandfather’s empire had touched most of the city in one way or another and from a very young age she’d been taught what was expected of his heirs. Being involved in the family business was simply a given.

  After college Allie had spent the better part of two years getting to know Ingram’s various subsidiaries. But it was the time she spent at her family’s charitable foundation that made her feel the most fulfilled, and she’d been working at their newest venture ever since. And not in the way her mother did, squeezing ribbon cuttings and board meetings in between morning tennis and afternoon tea. No, for the past three years Allie had worked long hours at Bet
ter Start and she was proud of what they had accomplished.

  “I’m happy where I am,” she told Harper. And while that was true, recognition from someone as respected as Oliver Harris meant a lot, especially when a small part of her still wondered if she only held her position because of her name. The opportunity to prove herself on her own merits was certainly tempting, but for Allie the phrase “family first” was non-negotiable.

  “If you say so.” Harper’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “So what had you so fired up on a Monday morning?” Allie asked, ready to move on to another subject. “You seemed like a woman on a mission when you came through the door just now.”

  “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot!” Harper pulled a newspaper out from under the stack of proposals she was carrying and laid it on Allie’s desk. “Page six.”

  Allie turned the pages until she came across an image that made her heart skip a beat. It was a photograph taken at the Field Museum.

  Of her. In Hudson’s arms.

  Event chair Alessandra Sinclair with Chicago’s newest eligible bachelor, business tycoon Hudson Chase.

  Her mouth went dry as her eyes roamed from his satisfied grin to the hand curved possessively around her waist. This was more than just another publicity shot from just another charity event. This was the first photo ever taken of the two of them. She’d been heartbroken when their summer romance had ended so abruptly, and not having so much as a single photograph made the loss that much harder to bear. But now there they were in black and white. She stared at the photo, drinking in every detail until the sound of her ringing phone broke its spell.

  “Well, aren’t you the popular one this morning,” Harper said.

  Allie frowned at her as she snapped the phone off its cradle. “Alessandra Sinclair.”

  “Miss Sinclair, attractive photo in the paper this morning. Very photogenic.”

  Her breath hitched at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Chase.”

  Harper’s eyebrows shot up. She leaned forward, the bangles clinking down her arm as she propped her elbows on the edge of Allie’s desk and rested her chin on her hands.