“I am. And a few other things I’ve added on over the years. The dukedom was something I was born in. That is nothing more than a title and land in England. The actual business part of being a duke went away a long time ago.”

“Owning retail property in England is a business, hon,” Sam corrected her husband.

He waved her off. “It doesn’t count if you have someone else managing it.”

“It counts,” Trina chimed in. “I get calls every week about the property Alice left me—”

Victor tuned out of what everyone was saying to watch Shannon.

Her long legs were crossed at the ankles, a glass of white wine dangled from her fingertips. Surrounded by her friends and watching her watch everyone else had him thinking about something Avery had said back in Tulum.

Something about Shannon being the quiet, reserved one. Up until now, Victor thought that was a joke. Shannon had been anything but silent since they met.

Yet here she was, listening to everyone tell their stories with very little to say about herself. He wanted to know more . . . How did she meet all the personalities in the room? And there were some pretty big personalities there. Money . . . lots of it. More than he had, that was for sure. Victor had met people through the years whose income dwarfed his, but seldom was it at an intimate gathering of friends. Then again, he wasn’t sure the last time he’d gathered with friends like this. The wedding, he supposed. But his buddies from school didn’t measure up financially, which always meant that Victor was paying the bill. He’d gotten tired of it and slowly pushed people aside. Which meant he spent a lot of time working and not a lot of time living.

Shannon must have felt his stare. Her eyes lifted to meet his.

His gut warmed with her soft smile.

“. . . you’ll have to come, Victor.”

His attention was pulled back into the conversation by Trina addressing him.

“Of course.” He had no idea what he’d just agreed to.

Someone on his left laughed.

Shannon snickered and sipped her wine.

“Okay, Trina, Wade. You gathered us all together tonight for a reason.” Lori shifted the conversation, which forced Victor into paying attention.

“We wanted to congratulate Avery and Liam.” Trina smiled.

Liam put his arm over his wife’s shoulders.

“And meet Victor.”

Yeah, he’d sensed that the second he walked through the door.

Wade walked behind his wife, a silly smile on his face, wrapped her in his arms, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He placed one open palm on her belly. “And one other little, tiny thing,” he said.

The women in the room screeched.

“I knew it!” Avery tore loose of Liam’s arm and stood.

Lori reached Trina first. “Congratulations.”

Shannon set her wine aside, moisture gathering in her eyes. Victor’s gaze followed her as she crossed the room to hug her friend.

Victor stood aside and watched a steady stream of handshakes.

Through the mix of hurried questions and excitement, he heard words of due dates and diapers.

And he watched Shannon. The happiness in her eyes shined, but there was a hint of sadness there, too.

He took the opportunity of the room swimming with multiple conversations to move to her side.

“It looks like you’ll have a couple of baby showers to plan this year.”

Shannon smiled with a nod. “Yes, it does.”

He looked at her, paused. “Do you want children?”

His question resulted in her blinking silently several times. “One day,” she said quietly.

Here she was again, the observer. Victor couldn’t help but wonder if it was a shell, a way of protecting herself from the elements around her. If the room was any indication, she was the last of her friends to be single, or divorced and unmarried, in any event. Clearly Victor was asked to join the party as a test of some sort. The protective nature of Shannon’s friends was evident in the questions they asked him, the way they made him feel welcome and yet didn’t put on fake airs. They were weighing him like a father did a daughter’s date on prom night.

He liked it.

“Do you think I passed the test?” he asked close to Shannon’s ear.

It took her a few seconds to understand what he was asking. The question chased the sadness from her eyes. “Were they that obvious?”

He touched her elbow, felt her tremble, and led her to a quieter part of the room by the window. “Your friends care about you. I think that says a lot about them and you.”

“What does it say?” she asked.

He leaned against the window, reluctantly removed his hand from her arm. “This whole party. Inviting me and not telling you . . . they want to make sure I’m worthy.” That I’m not out to hurt you.

“They’re protective.”

“You deserve their protection.”

“You barely know me.”

He smiled. “I’m going to change that.”

Her mouth opened and closed without words.

The need to hold her, kiss her, wrap his arms around her until she stopped trembling . . . or maybe until she trembled more. His palms itched to leave with her.

An eruption of laughter flowed toward them.

Shannon glanced away from him, stepped closer.

“Would you like to leave?” Shannon asked.

Victor did a double take.

Her jaw was tight, her smile forced.

The protective hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Please,” she said. “If we leave together, they won’t question my exit.”

He took her hand in his, found it cold and clammy.

Victor looked in her eyes as she blinked away the emotions surging to the surface.

He pulled her toward their hosts. Lori broke off the conversation with Trina and Wade when they approached. Her eyes shifted between the two of them, hesitated on Shannon, and then focused on him.

“It looks like I’m being given a coffee date two months early,” Victor announced. He glanced toward Shannon to see if she wanted to add anything.

He saw her swallow . . . hard. Her hand gripped his.

“And we thought it would give everyone a chance to talk about us after we leave,” he added.

Lori grinned and hugged Shannon.

After the shortest round of farewells Victor could remember, he and Shannon stood in the elevator in silence. Her shoulders started to shake.

Victor placed his arm around her and pulled her close. He had no idea what had spurred the sorrow pouring from her, but he was thankful he was there to catch it.

He handed the concierge his valet ticket and escorted Shannon outside to the fresh air.

She tilted her head back and drew in a long breath.

Victor turned her toward him and placed his hands on the sides of her face.

Her dark eyes glistened, her lips attempted to smile.

“You don’t have to fake it with me,” he told her.

His words seemed to prompt a small gasp from her lips. He wanted to fix her, whatever it was that was making her unhappy. He settled for brushing away the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she started.

He placed one of his thumbs over her lips to stop her. The flash of lights from a passing car drew her eyes across the street.

Shannon’s expression shifted, her eyes narrowed.

Victor glanced over his shoulder and realized that what he thought were passing cars were actually two men holding long-lens cameras pointed in their direction.

“What the . . .”

“Paparazzi,” she said in explanation.

She stiffened, her head tilted higher.

“They’re not here for me,” he said aloud. Only the flash of their cameras kept buzzing the night air.

“I doubt they’re here for me either. I’m just a bonus.”

The valet drove up in his car, and Victor hastily helped Shannon inside. By the time he had tipped the driver and slid behind the wheel, Shannon was talking on her phone. “Let Wade and Trina know the cameras have arrived.” She paused, looked out the window as they drove away. “Only a couple. No, I’m fine . . . I love you, too.” She hung up.

Victor sped away from the lights. “That was a first,” he said as he switched lanes.

“I’m sorry in advance.” Her soft words cut through him. “Although I doubt they care much about me any longer.”

“You mean you’ve dealt with them before?”

She regarded him from the passenger seat. “Are you suggesting that you didn’t google my name at one point or another?”

Okay, he was guilty of that. “Well . . .”

“Where do you think those pictures came from? Some were from the press hired by my ex-husband, but the majority were circulated by the opportunistic photographer looking for gossip.”

“They didn’t find any on you.”

She stared out the window. “That didn’t stop them from trying, or making up what would sell newspapers.”

The more she talked, the less sadness he felt surging off her.

He kept her talking.

“This was my first. What was yours?” He knew, on some level, he was inviting conversation about her life with the former governor. He welcomed it. He wanted to know this beautiful, poised . . . sad woman sitting beside him.

“It was choreographed,” she told him. “Shortly after we announced our involvement. I walked out of our engagement dinner to the flash of a dozen cameras. He leaned in, twisted my ear. ‘Smile . . . you’ll get used to it.’” She sighed. “I smiled, froze . . .”