“Absolutely.” Saved by the search and rescue team. Yay!
As they moved toward the SAR group, Murphy noticed that the gray-haired man with the C-Guard crew was watching, his gaze on…her?
Okay, she looked amazing, but not usually amazing enough to be stared at.
Huffing a laugh, she ignored him and greeted their friends. Together, they all raided the food tables and talked for a while.
Back in the ballroom, they found Kim and Raoul with Master Sam and his Linda.
“Are there any Masters at the Shadowlands tonight?” Murphy asked. “I mean, along with you guys, Master Z, Jake, Alastair and Max, Marcus, and Holt are all here.”
Sam chuckled. “Anne, Olivia, Vance, and Galen are on. Cullen’s got the bar. Ghost is there too.”
Raoul smiled at her. “The Halloween weekend, it always has plenty of volunteers.”
She and Saxon had gone last night. “I can see why—and I can’t believe some of those costumes.” She tilted her head. “Do you suppose I could convince Ghost to have a Regency themed night someday?”
“Probably,” Linda told her. “Maybe for a romantic Valentine’s night?”
“Oh, I love Regency costumes.” Kim put her hands together in a begging posture. “Please, Master R?”
“Of course, tesoro mío.” His dark eyes turned soft, and he stroked a finger down her jaw. “We will find you a lovely gown for it. One that will please me as well as you.”
Murphy could only smile. Because if what Kim was wearing was any indication, Master Raoul had impeccable taste. Kim’s striking blue gown and aquamarine-studded choker matched her eyes.
And their open love. It was so wonderful. Blinking against the moisture in her eyes, she looked up at Saxon.
He touched her face with his fingertips. “What, little kitlet?” When she didn’t answer, he cupped her cheek and kissed her gently.
God, she loved him.
As the music changed to Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years,” Saxon grinned and pulled Murphy onto the dance floor. “Can’t have you wasting all those waltz lessons.”
“No, that wouldn’t do at all.” She smiled, happy to be in his arms. His fingers trailed over her bare shoulder and down her back, and he hummed in pleasure.
This time as they danced, she didn’t have to count steps. Her feet knew what they were doing. Closing her eyes, she simply let him guide her. There was something incredibly sexy about feeling his powerful body moving against hers and how his solid muscles rippled beneath her hand. “I could learn to like this a lot.”
He pulled her tighter against him. “Good.”
As the waltz was finishing, Saxon’s phone beeped. He checked it and made an exasperated sound. “The clinic—and this might take a bit of time. Want to step outside with me?”
Ah, the trials of being a doctor—even for furbabies. She laughed. “No, while you talk, I’ll visit the ladies’ room.”
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you near the entrance—and text you otherwise.”
A few minutes later, as she was leaving the restroom, a black-vested server stopped in front of her. “Excuse me. Ms. Chaykovsky?”
“Yes, that’s me.” His dog-painted face had her smiling at him.
“Mr. Halvorson asked if you’d kindly speak with him.”
She blinked. “Wow, you guys have to run errands too?”
He chuckled. “Not usually, but when the producer of C-Guard asks for something, he gets it—and he gave me a huge tip.”
The producer? She stared. Saxon’s father—and he wanted to talk to her? Damnfinito, where was the big blond barbarian when she needed him?
But when the server motioned toward the other room, she reluctantly walked with him to the C-Guard area. Insulting Saxon’s father by refusing to speak with him wouldn’t be good.
The floppy-eared server escorted her to a table off to one side of the TV celebrities, bowed slightly to the gray-haired man—the one who’d been staring at her.
As the server headed away, the man rose, and she saw that Saxon’s strong features had obviously come from him. Mr. Halvorson was six feet tall and lean, his hair a dark blond, graying at the temples. “Thank you for joining me, my dear. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She swallowed. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Smiling, he held a chair for her to sit down, then took his own seat. Tilting his head, he studied her for a moment. “I’m pleased you’ve recovered from your injuries incurred at the bridge collapse.”
“Thank you. It was more bruises than anything else.”
“The search and rescue work you all do is very much appreciated.” His smile was almost as captivating as Saxon’s. “When Saxon said you’re an author, I read your first book. Quite an intriguing plot. I can see why your sales are so high.”
Oh, he was totally a businessman, wasn’t he? She inclined her head. “Thank you.”
“As a film producer, I’m always on the lookout for new projects…”
A strange feeling, one that said she was being watched, crept up her spine. She glanced to the right and left. But there were a lot of people crowded around their table. Probably someone wanted to talk with the famous producer.
With an effort, she clued back into what the man was saying. Something about new series. “Excuse me, I think I missed that?”
“I think your books would make an excellent addition to one of the streaming services. The Bridgerton series has focused interest on the Regency period—and your thrillers would be far more compelling.”
My books as a TV series? The thought stole her breath and sent excitement surging through her. “My books?”
“Yes.” He sat back with a smile. “I’d be interested in acquiring an option to make them into film. A TV series.”
Oh, to see Lord Montague Beaumont and Dinah on a TV screen. Who would play Montague? Maybe Henry Cavill or…
Wait. Just wait a minute.
She shook her head. He was looking so very pleased to do this for his son’s girlfriend. But if she accepted, what would Saxon think?
No. No, no, no. “Mr. Halvorson, I—”