The Tycoon's Socialite Bride (Entangled Indulgence) by Tracey Livesay

and press a kiss on both of her cheeks.
    Marcus didn’t move, couldn’t breathe as he stood two feet away from the man who’d ruined his mother and changed his life. The years had not been kind to David Holcombe. His blond hair was thinning and there was more flesh along his jawline and a thickness around his midsection that hadn’t been there years ago. But it was him. Marcus would never forget those cold eyes or the haughtily curled upper lip.
    “Pamela, you resemble your mother more with each passing year.” Holcombe patted her hand. “What a magnificent turnout!” He pulled a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket and dabbed at the sweat on his baby bottom–smooth forehead. “I told Vivian if we attended only one party this year, it had to be a Harrington affair.”
    He turned to the slight brunette standing next to him, but she wasn’t paying attention. Vivian Holcombe, dripping in diamonds and pearls, clutched a champagne flute and swayed to a melody only she could hear.
    “We’re thrilled you could make it,” Pamela said. “David and Vivian, please allow me to introduce you to Marcus Pearson.”
    Holcombe bared his teeth and extended his hand. “Pearson. Should I know that name?”
    You damn well will know it soon enough.
    Pamela let out a superficial giggle. “David, I’m surprised at you. The entire business world knows his name. Forbes named him one of the top CEOs under thirty-five. Pearson Enterprises is responsible for some of the most successful property launches in years, with projects in New York, California, and Arizona. But he got a lot of notice recently for constructing top-quality affordable housing in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.”
    Her defense touched him. She really had Googled him.
    Holcombe focused on him with laser-like precision. “If Pamela Harrington vouches for you, you must be an exceptional young man. My family has also done well in real estate.”
    “How so?”
    “For generations we’ve owned one of the most successful boutique hotels in the District. You’ve probably heard of it, the Holcombe?”
    Marcus tipped his head.
    Holcombe straightened and frowned. “You must be new to our city if you haven’t heard of the Holcombe. We’ve hosted heads of state, foreign dignitaries, rock stars.”
    The man had misinterpreted his acknowledgement. “I do know of the Holcombe, actually. As it happens, I’m not new to DC. I grew up here.”
    “Marcus is a native, David,” Pamela said, moving close to him and slipping her hand into his, in an obvious effort to calm the tension rising in him.
    The breathless quality of her tone sent a rush of desire straight to his groin. Where had that come from? He looked down at her and she widened her eyes comically. Getting the hint, he released her hand and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. The impact sent waves of heat through his body .
    “I didn’t know you were dating again,” David interrupted, his voice grating on the mood. “Senator Harrington didn’t mention it the last time we spoke.”
    “I’m sure he has more things to do than worry about my dating life.”
    “Oh, my God. Is it true?” A female voice broke through the conversation.
    Pamela stiffened and Marcus turned to see the source of her tension. A young blond woman in a blue dress alternated between staring at her phone and the both of them.
    “Is what true?”
    “It’s all over District Dish . Are you two getting married?”
    Vivian shifted, the sudden movement taking them by surprise. “How lovely!” She directed an unsteady smile at her glass and drained its contents in one swallow, then exchanged the empty glass for a full one off the tray of a passing waiter. Lifting it high, she toasted, “To the happy couple.”
    Her slurred words failed to carry the message, so she tried again, announcing loudly and clearly, “They’re engaged, darlings. Pamela Harrington is engaged!”
    “No!” Pamela clutched Marcus’s arm, her eyes