Pushing back his laughter, he captured her hand to keep it from flapping. “I think I can come up with something.”

She let out a steadying breath. “Oh good. Then go!” With a gentle shove, she guided him toward the bathroom door. “I’ll never get ready on time if you stay in here. Damn, I haven’t even dried my hair.”

Wyatt laughed out loud as she closed the door in his face.

Fiona met Maddie in the ballroom an hour before the event was due to begin. She’d barely had time to dry and pin her hair up and thank goodness she’d had her dress dry cleaned and hanging in her closet. After she and Maddie attended to the last minute details with the hotel staff, Preston’s security detail and Joe’s dogs, Fiona smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dress and waited at the entrance to the ballroom, greeting the guests one at a time as they filed in.

She’d practiced greetings in eight different languages and used those on the diplomats as she checked them off her list. Twenty minutes into the social hour she still hadn’t seen Wyatt and had begun to think he hadn’t had any luck locating the appropriate attire for the formal event. Damn, she wished she’d thought of it earlier.

Maddie leaned toward her. “Columbia and Venezuela are getting a little too close.”

Fiona glanced across the room.

The Columbian and the Venezuelan delegates were closing in on each other.

“Want me to run interference?” Maddie asked.

“No, I’ve got this.” Fiona hurried across the room to avert confrontation, hooking the Columbian’s arm and steering him away from the Venezuelan and toward the beautifully prepared hors d’oeuvres the hotel staff had prepared. When she’d introduced him to a woman from Argentina, she excused herself and glanced up as another guest entered the ballroom door. At that moment, the crowd separated long enough for her to catch a glimpse of the latest attendee.

A tall man dressed in a sharply tailored military uniform stepped into the room. Rows and rows of ribbons with shiny metals dangling off them adorned his chest. As he entered the ballroom, every female gaze shifted toward him.

His hair cut short, his chin cleanly shaven, he stood straight, his broad shoulders held back, his chest prominent and his mouth set in a straight line. Everything about him exuded power and dignity.

Fiona’s heart did a double beat when she realized it was Wyatt.

“Wow,” she said.

“Perdón, senorita?” The Mexican delegate leaned toward her.

“Pardon me.” Fiona left the man standing there without another word and sifted through the throng toward the entrance.

When his gaze captured hers, his eyes widened ever so slightly and appreciatively, sweeping over her length.

She was glad she’d found the simple black gown on sale at one of San Antonio’s most exclusive formal wear shops. With its V neckline and rhinestone straps it had been a particularly fabulous find. And based on the desire flaring in Wyatt’s eyes, it was a keeper.

Feeling like a schoolgirl on her first date, she held out her hand. “You look amazing.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Without seeming to bend, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Only I prefer you naked.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Nice to see you found something to wear.”

“This old thing?” He winked and raised her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her palm and curled her fingers around it. He glanced around the room. “Everyone seems fairly civil at the moment.”

“So far so good.”

“In that case, would you care to dance?”

“Are you allowed to in uniform?” she asked.

He smiled and drew her hand through the crook of his arm. “Only with a beautiful woman.”

She turned and let him lead her to the dance floor. The string quartet she’d hired was set up on a raised platform in the corner. Fortunately the sick person was well enough and had made it to the hotel. They’d just started into beautiful, flowing waltz. Fiona hesitated as they neared the open polished wood of the dance floor. No one else was dancing. “Are you sure?” She turned to face him. “Have you ever waltzed?”

He smiled down at her with that sexy, confident smile. “You know I can hold my own on the dance floor, darlin’.”

Fiona chewed on her bottom lip. “Clubbing is different than dancing at a black tie affair.”

He placed his hand on her naked back and guided her onto the floor, holding her other hand in his. “I think I can manage.”

Without another word, he swept her up into the rhythm of the waltz, his steps perfect, his hand firm on her body, guiding her with each turn. She could have been a princess at a royal ball and Wyatt the prince, smiling down at her. Fiona had to stop herself from saying wow again. The man had so much charm, confidence and sex appeal, he melted her knees with just a look.

And in uniform…just wow.

As the song came to an end, Fiona sighed, disappointed. In Wyatt’s arms, she could forget everything else. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“My mother taught me how to waltz when I was a little boy. And like I said, I got a lot of practice at the country western honky-tonk some of us hung out at outside Fort Bragg during training.”

“Well, congratulate your mother for me. You did her proud.”

His smile faded. “She was a remarkable woman. She passed away seven years ago while I was on a mission.”

Fiona’s happiness faded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I still miss her.”

“What about your father?”

“That old coot is still alive and kickin’. He’s ornery enough to outlive me by a long shot.”

“I bet there’s a lot of him in you.”

Wyatt nodded. “Too much at times. If we spend time together, we end up buttin’ heads.” A smile softened his words. “But he’s a good man beneath the gruffness.”

Fiona could imagine an older version of Wyatt and wondered what it would be like to grow old with him? Would he be content to sit on a porch and rock through his retirement? Or would he still be charging headfirst into one adventure after another? Fiona suspected the latter and realized she’d prefer the same. Too bad this impressive soldier was so dead set on keeping their relationship casual and ending it upon the conclusion of this event.

With a sigh, Fiona waved toward the table laden with every kind of fancy finger food imaginable. “Hungry?”

His hand tightened around her waist. “Not for food.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more than to slip out of here and out of my dress and heels and make love to you, but my presence is required.”

Wyatt glanced around the room and back to her. “Is there a coat closet or an office we could duck into? I’m betting you aren’t wearing underwear beneath that dress.”

She let her lips curl up slightly on the corner. “You’ll just have to keep guessing until all the guests leave the party, now, won’t you?”

Wyatt growled low in his chest. “Want me to clear them out of here?”

Her eyes widened. “No, I do not. Besides, you wouldn’t want to wrinkle that pretty uniform.”

“Pretty?” He stood even taller, if that was at all possible. “I’ll have you know, Special Forces soldiers aren’t pretty. It’s not regulation.”

Fiona laughed. “Okay, then how about sexy uniform?”

He relaxed beside her and smiled. “That’s better. Can’t lose my macho appeal with a single word.”

Fiona snorted softly. “As if you could lose an ounce of macho. You’re practically bursting at the seams with swagger.”

“How long is this going on?”

Fiona smiled. “It’ll all be over by ten.”

“Good. I don’t know if I can stand wearing this tie that long.”

“If I can stand in these heels, you can wear a tie.”

“I’d rather you and I were naked.”

“I thought you weren’t anxious to continue our relationship?”

“You and I both know that after this event is over, I’m out of here. But while I’m here…” He tugged at his tie. “Damn, woman, you’re making this hard on me.”