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He wiggled his elbow to encourage her to take his arm. 
    A smile touched the corner of her mouth and she glided up to him, her long, lean legs flashing though the slit in the side of the dress. Sexy spike-heeled sandals made them a mile longer.  
    She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and her cinnamon scent surrounded him. 
    His libido came to full attention. 
    Which didn't worry him nearly as much as the fact that he was starting to like her. 
    *  *  *
    Dakota stepped out of the theatre into the cool evening, the familiar and comforting noises of the city cascading around her like pleasant background music. She sighed with pure pleasure. The show had been delightful. Almost as melt-in-her-mouth wonderful as the lobster. 
    As she and Trey navigated through the crowd down to the sidewalk, she wondered if she could have found a way to live a more authentic life and still stayed in her father's world. Had she let her anger over Jack's betrayal color her view of what her father wanted from her? Had she over reacted? Instead of running to something had she actually been running away as Trey implied?
    She didn't know. She only knew that it felt good to be in beautiful clothes, having a wonderful evening, in the company of an attractive man who knew how to be a charming companion when it suited him.
    In this moment she felt completely at ease as if she'd unexpectedly found something she'd been missing--some natural part of herself. Just as Trey had promised, no one had recognized her, even though she'd spotted several people who had once claimed to be her friends. She had taken a perverse pleasure in walking past them without a second glance while jealous curiosity hardened their eyes and their dates ogled her. 
    "You seem to be enjoying yourself," Trey observed as they started down the sidewalk toward his car.
    "I'd forgotten how nice it was to be spoiled."
    "You deserve to live like this."
    "No thanks. It's like chocolate cheesecake. Best savored in small doses." 
    She noticed a group of photographers milling at the corner of the theatre building and her happiness dimmed. They watched her and Trey with mild interest, but made no move toward them and after a moment, she relaxed. If people who had once considered themselves insiders in her life hadn't recognized her, no cheap sensational news reporter ever would. 
    "Why did you leave the company?" Trey asked as they walked.
    One of the reporters pushed off from the wall. The rest shifted, becoming instantly alert. Dakota tensed. "I didn't. I turned my back on my father."
    "Heiresses are allowed to be eccentric. People would have eventually forgotten about the tape. Why throw your life away because of a temporary problem?"
    She didn't expect him to understand how humiliated she'd felt by what her father had done, or what it was like living in his house. No one could. Except maybe someone who'd done time.
    The reporters started toward them. Uneasiness skated down her back. "Trey," she hissed, nudging him. "Get your keys out."
    He looked up and saw the group ambling toward them. "Steady. They can't possibly know who you are," he said in a low voice.
    The group stopped a few yards in front of them, spreading across the sidewalk in a casual way that Dakota knew was anything but. Tension rode across her shoulders. She shifted her position to just a little behind Trey hoping to block their view of her.
    "Good evening, Mr. Peters," a tall man in the front said as he slipped his tape recorder from his pocket. "Is it true you're in Cincinnati to meet with potential investors in the Dakota Nights line?"
    "Hank." Trey acknowledged with a curt nod as he pulled his keys from his pocket. "No interviews, tonight. This is strictly pleasure."
    "We can see that." A short, balding man with a scruffy growth of beard said in a heavy Brooklyn accent. He edged his way up next to Hank. 
    A small gasp of dismay escaped from Dakota. His beady eyes hardened with interest and he craned his