The Tycoon's Socialite Bride (Entangled Indulgence) by Tracey Livesay Page B

challenging and extremely rewarding. Speaking of rewarding, Marcus mentioned the work you do at the women’s shelter. That’s pretty awesome. He told human resources to be on the lookout for any applicants from the shelter.”
    Pamela was surprised that he’d moved so quickly on his proposition. “He hadn’t told me. I thought he’d forgotten about it.”
    “Marcus is driven and has earned his reputation as a fierce businessman. But no one is fairer or more supportive.”
    Amanda left to join some of her coworkers and Pamela made her way inside the club. She told herself she wasn’t looking for Marcus, but her eyes missed that internal memo. They unsuccessfully searched for him amid the chairs and tables placed throughout the room. She garnered the same result from the long lines snaking past the catered dinner buffet. Finally, she turned her attention to the club’s centerpiece, a mahogany wood-and-granite bar, surrounded by scarlet fabric-covered stools. Her heart swelled at the sight of his broad shoulders in an official team jersey as he leaned against the bar.
    He was talking to two members of Congress. As she drew closer, the muscles in his back stiffened and he turned. Her gaze locked on his and she felt helpless as his beautiful blue eyes reeled her closer. He smiled, took her hand, and pulled her to his side, their fingers intertwining. The contact sent shards of electricity down her body, as if she’d tangoed with a bolt of lightning.
    “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth.
    “Thank you for the chai latte. It was a thoughtful gesture.”
    He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, his clean, sporty scent tickling her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, his touch completely erasing her previous promise to keep her distance.
    “You’re welcome.” He flicked a finger against her cheek before turning to the two men. “You both know my fiancée, Pamela Harrington?”
    His arm was a steel band around her waist, anchoring her firmly to his side. The heat from his flesh seared through the flimsy barrier of her shirt to burn against her skin. She reveled in that strength even as she fought reliance upon it. It wasn’t real and would end the moment he got the hotel.
    Both men nodded. Congressman Blumfield shook her hand and said, “Of course. It’s good to see you again, Pamela. Congratulations on your engagement.”
    “Thank you, Congressman. I read about your wife’s involvement with the Autism Speaks charity auction. Tell her if there’s anything we can do to help, please let me know.”
    “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to your father’s benefit. But I heard he raised a pretty penny with his donation of an outing with him on Congressional’s Blue Course.”
    A subtle shift of her body and she was free from Marcus’s grip. The absence evoked a keen ache, but the separation was necessary. Ignoring his frown, she greeted the other congressman.
    “We didn’t mean to intrude on your gathering,” the man said. “We heard the club had been rented out for a company party and we wanted to see which generous bastard was responsible.” He laughed and slapped Marcus on the back. Turning back to Pamela, he added, “Seeing you is a bonus. How is your father? Haven’t seen him at Congressional lately.”
    She stiffened. She still hadn’t talked to her father. Following her conversation with Alice, she’d called him at the estate, but had yet to receive a response. His stubbornness about getting a cell phone bordered on bizarre. “He’s been busy on the Hill. I’ll tell him you asked about him.”
    When the men finally left, Marcus didn’t try to keep her with him. Maybe he sensed she needed a little space. But she couldn’t escape his presence. The heat of his gaze warmed her body, and she found herself seduced by the melody of his voice. She was caught in the gravity of their attraction, and by the last inning, awareness of him burned as bright as a supernova.
    After the game, the kids were