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Chapter Sixteen
Rydersparedabriefglance up at the three flags mounted over the black metal and glass awning—the US flag, the flag of the US Army, and the US Navy flag. A doorman ushered them through the wood-framed glass double doors, the words “The Army and Navy Club” etched above the entrance.
The interior reminded him of the most exclusive clubs in London that his father liked to frequent—crème walls with chair railing, dark wood paneling, brass fixtures, and oil paintings of famous figures in gold frames, the hush of exclusivity and a wealth of history imprinted on its walls. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling of the two-story lobby.
Nathalie wore a knee-length champagne-colored dress with yellow flowers, the sleeves flaring at her elbows. The color highlighted the golden undertones of her skin. She’d swept her hair up to the top of her head and tendrils hung down by her ears to compliment her diamond teardrop earrings.
She was breathtaking. His chest swelled with pride that she was with him.
They strolled past the grand staircase to the reception desk, staffed by a young woman, her dark hair pulled back into a neat bun. She greeted them with a cordial smile, her gaze discreetly giving Ryder the once-over. “Good evening. How may I help you?”
“We’re here for the Dane-Long engagement party,” Ryder told her.
“May I have your names, please?”
“Ryder Montague and Nathalie Williams.”
The woman scanned the sheets of paper in front of her, then made a checkmark next to their names with her pen. “The reception is being held in the main dining room.”
Nathalie fidgeted next to him, her fingers flexing on the gold clutch she held in a death grip next to her hip.
Ryder placed his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. “Relax. My friends don’t bite.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m not sure what you’ve told them about me. I want them to like me.”
“They know we were together at Oxford.” He paused. “They know you’re important to me.”
He’d had plenty of time last night, alone and lonely in her guest room to accept that truth, even if he was still unsure of the role she would play in his life going forward. Nathalie the girl had brought him out of his shell when he was a young lad. Believed in him when everyone else placed expectations on him he didn’t want.
She’d become a beautiful, passionate woman with a fierce intelligence who commanded respect in a male-dominated industry. She could have any man she wanted.
And, for some inexplicable reason, she still wanted him.
He was saved from having to answer the questions in her eyes when he caught sight of Lachlan and Sophia conversing with a uniformed American army colonel.
The president of Dìleas wore a charcoal gray suit and dark plum tie that complimented his wife’s knee-length cocktail dress. Lachlan glanced in Ryder’s direction, his gaze narrowing when it touched on Nathalie. He leaned down to whisper in Sophia’s ear.
The couple made their way to where Ryder and Nathalie stood.
“Ryder. I’m glad you could make it.” Sophia kissed him on the cheek, then laughed and wiped lipstick off his face before shifting her curious gaze to Nathalie, who gave her a nervous smile.
“Sophia, this is Nathalie Williams.” Ryder made the introductions. “Nathalie, I’d like you to meet Sophia Mackay.”
Sophia stuck out her hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Ryder’s chest lightened at the relief on Nathalie’s face as she returned the greeting. He should have known Sophia would welcome Nathalie and run interference with Lachlan if needed.
“Come on.” Sophia grabbed Nathalie’s hand like she was an old friend. “I want you to meet the bride-to-be.” She shot her husband a subtle look of warning, then tugged Nathalie toward Emily Dane, dressed in a periwinkle-blue figure-hugging dress.
Nathalie glanced over her shoulder at Ryder as Sophia dragged her across the room.
He gave her a subtle nod of encouragement.
“Is she here as your client or your date?”
The muscles in Ryder’s neck tightened at Lachlan’s question. “Does it matter? It’s an opportunity for her to network and she’ll be safe here.” He eyed the glass tumbler in his boss’s hand. “Do you think I can get one of those before you interrogate me?”
Lachlan’s lips compressed into a thin line. “I’m concerned about you, ’tis all.” He jerked his head toward a tall, black-haired man conversing with another Army officer, this one a general. “That’s who you ought to be afraid of.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.