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There was room to stand although, and, in an effort to find Scott, Vivian began to push her way forward, when she froze.

Because he was there.

Difficult to see, true, because he was surrounded by a nucleus of glamorous women who seemed to be straining towards him, drawn like iron filings to a magnet.

But his presence was as unmistakable as it was remarkable. That tall, wide-shouldered yet lean body.

The jet-dark hair and the glittering stormy eyes. And before they could be trained in her direction Vivian fled—making her way back through the hall and out through the exit door, like someone seeking sanctuary.

The air was surprisingly clean and pure and scented, with only the faint drone of traffic reminding her that she was in the city. Vivian took a sip of her drink, but the wine almost made her choke when she sensed, rather than heard, someone behind her and she spun round to see the tall, dark figure watching her, unmoving , the dark eyes unreadable, and she stood, rooted to the spot