Making his way through the dining room, Kit considered all the possibilities. She could be an acquaintance, or maybe a new employee. But another more disturbing possibility pushed its way into his thoughts. She could also be his father’s date.

Since Kit’s mother had died, Carl had stumbled through a few relationships, all with grasping divorcées who were interested in finding a man to provide. Kit had warned him that a multimillionaire of his age would be easy pickings for the wrong kind of woman. Luckily, Carl had broken off the relationships before he had become legally entangled. But this woman was something new-she was prettier and younger, an irresistible combination for a man approaching the age of sixty.

“Aw, hell,” Kit muttered. “I should have stayed home.” He wove through the tables and stopped next to his father’s. “Hi, Dad.”

They both looked up from their conversation and Carl immediately rose and clapped Kit on the shoulder. “Kit, my boy. I was wondering if you’d make it.” Kit glanced over at the woman and his breath caught in his throat. She wasn’t thirty-five at all, probably not even thirty.

Her skin was flawless, luminous in the low light of the candle that sat in the center of the table. Her hair brushed against her jawline and he fought the impulse to reach out and touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. She smiled at him hesitantly. He watched in fascination as her lips parted slightly and he found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss a mouth like that. Good Lord, she was pretty.

“Kit, this is Roxanne Perry. Roxanne, my son, Kit.”

Startled out of his fantasy, he took the hand she offered, folding her delicate fingers inside his.

“Your father has told me so much about you,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet you, Kit.”