Marry Me, Kate. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter Two

      Kate wasn’t pleased with the shock in his voice. The man was a snob, just like her Aunt Lorraine, who hated the diner. Anger warred with despair. She needed his money. Desperately. Otherwise, she would never have agreed to have a business discussion in a social setting.

      “I’m quite serious, Mr. Hardison. I have figures to show you that support my intentions.”

      He pulled into a parking lot that encircled the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art and stopped by the front door where a valet waited to park his car. It wasn’t until he reached her side after circling the vehicle that he responded.

      “Either I’m thinking of a different kind of figure or they don’t amount to much, Kate. Because I don’t see where you could’ve hidden any more of your figure wearing that dress.”

      The steamy stare that swept her from her toes to her shoulders, or perhaps a little below her shoulders, told Kate there wasn’t much hope for a business discussion. This man had his mind on other things.

      Stiffening her shoulders, she raised her chin and waited until his gaze finally left her breasts. “I’m asking for a loan, Mr. Hardison, not selling myself. A business discussion is what I want, not...not a seduction.”

      Though his cheeks reddened, he looked down his nose at her as if she were a common bug that happened to intrude in his path. “Of course. That’s my intention also.”

      He took her arm, a touch that Kate felt all over, and led her toward the door, immediately opened by an attendant. Standing just inside was a receiving line of gray-haired women dressed in elegant, floor-length gowns, adorned in diamonds and pearls. Their escorts wore tuxedos, like Hardison’s.

      Kate hid an inner groan beneath a smile. She’d occasionally attended such social events with her aunt Lorraine. And hated every minute of them.

      The first lady stared at her in horror, as if unable to believe her eyes, and Kate quickly glanced down her person, afraid something was amiss. Her short black dress was certainly less formal than their gowns, but she was decently covered.

      When she raised her gaze, she saw her escort bend over and kiss the woman’s cheek.

      “Evening, Mother. I’d like you to meet Kate O’Connor. She works at The Lucky Charm Diner on Wornall Avenue.”

      The woman’s face paled, and she wavered on her high heels. Kate feared they’d be picking her up off the floor any minute. And wondered if William Hardison had intended that result with his invitation.

      After all, it hadn’t been necessary to mention the diner at all, much less make it sound as if she was working for minimum wage. Though minimum wage might be an increase in her income right now.

      “I—I—how do you do?” the woman finally warbled, sounding as if she had a tickle in her throat.

      “Fine, thank you, Mrs. Hardison.” Kate pretended a lack of interest in the woman’s distress, hoping she would understand that her accompanying the woman’s son was an impersonal thing. “Your gown is lovely.”

      The woman’s gaze trailed down Kate’s figure, as if she intended to return the compliment, then thought better of it. “Thank you,” she muttered and dropped Kate’s hand.

      The man next to Mrs. Hardison instantly grabbed Kate’s fingers and lifted them to his lips. Kate wasn’t fond of hand kissing, but having lived in France for four years, she wasn’t stunned by his action. His devouring stare bothered her more.

      “Absolutely stunning, Miss O’Connor. I hope you’ll save me a dance. I’m Count Ryzinski.”

      She supposed his affected speech was meant to imply he was European, but Kate didn’t believe it for a minute. She slipped her hand from his with no comment.

      William Hardison’s arm slid around her waist and he introduced her to the next dowager in line. Distracted by his touch much more than the count’s kiss, Kate couldn’t remember the woman’s name.

      Not that it mattered.

      She wouldn’t see any of them after tonight, whether she got her loan or not. Unless, of course, they became future customers.

      Will kept his hand on Kate’s waist, enjoying the feel of her. She might not be dressed as elegantly as the elite of Kansas City, but she shouted sex appeal.

      And he was a healthy man.

      The count, one of his mother’s hangers-on, appeared to be healthy, too. Too much so. It irritated Will that the man had kissed Kate’s hand, though it hadn’t seemed to bother her.

      As they continued down the receiving line, he discovered every man introduced to Kate was affected by her curvaceous figure.

      He wanted to punch them all out.

      As soon as they’d finished the introductions, he took her arm and pulled her in the direction of the serving tables. “Let’s get a drink.”

      A waiter stepped in front of them with a tray. “Champagne, sir?”

      Will grabbed two glasses and handed one to Kate.

      She calmly set it back down on the tray. With a smile to the waiter, she said, “I’d prefer mineral water. Is it available?”

      The waiter acted as if he’d been given a commission of greatness. “I’ll bring it to you personally, miss,” he assured her, a hungry grin on his lips.

      She thanked him and he hurried away, an almost full tray in his grasp, ignoring the people who were waiting to be served.

      “You’re dangerous,” Will murmured.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “Try not to ask for any more favors. I’m afraid half the men in here will fall on their faces rushing to serve you.” He noted the flash of anger in her eyes with satisfaction. The more off balance she felt, the more outrageous she’d behave.

      And the more upset his mother would become.

      “Will! Where have you been lately, buddy?” a male voice called out.

      Will turned to see John Larabee, Jr., an old school chum, approaching. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Jack had always chased the most beautiful women, and Kate was easily in that category.

      “Hello, lovely lady,” Jack added as he reached Will and Kate. He took Kate’s hand in his and held it.

      “Good evening,” Kate said coolly and tugged on her hand.

      “Let her go, Jack.”

      Both his companions stared at him, Kate with indignation in her gaze, and Jack with a considering look. However, Jack didn’t bother to let go of Kate’s hand.

      Kate tugged on her hand again. When the man didn’t immediately release it, she took Will’s champagne out of his hand and calmly poured what was left down the front of Jack’s tuxedo.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry. How careless of me,” she said, a sweet smile of concern on her lush lips.

      Jack stared at his tuxedo in horror, but he also released Kate’s hand. “You—you—that—” he sputtered, wiping his shirtfront and glaring at her at the same time.

      Several people around them, apparently having watched the brief scenario, gave gasps of disapproval and moved to console Jack, a favorite with the elite of Kansas City.

      “That was very rude, young lady,” a blue-haired dowager snapped