“Are you refusing to have a conversation with me?”
Now she seemed rude. His voice didn’t change, but she could swear there was a challenge in it. Dammit! Stormy couldn’t resist a challenge.
Stormy finally turned, and when she looked up, she found herself gazing into a set of sea-green eyes with the longest eyelashes she’d ever witnessed on a man before. She found herself speechless.
“Let’s dance,” he said, holding out a hand, not concerned by her lack of vocal abilities.
This wasn’t a good idea.
“I don’t think so. I really need to go,” she told him. But he didn’t remove his outstretched hand, and she didn’t want to pull away and call attention to them having this conversation.
What if the people standing around realized she was crashing this wedding? She was going to murder her best friend if she ever found her again.
“One dance won’t take long.” The deep timbre of his voice made her stomach stir. Uh-oh.
His dark hair was rumpled, and his stark white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, showed a nice view of his tanned chest. And those shoulders—oh, those shoulders—looked as if they could carry a roof trestle on them. There was a bit of youthfulness in his face, but he had to be a few years older than she was.
What was one dance going to hurt? The racing of her blood proved she wouldn’t dislike it. Heck, even if she were caught, it might just be worth it to have this man’s arms around her for a few minutes.
He said nothing else as he waited, confident she would cave. He was right. She watched a smile lift the corners of his mouth as he moved a little closer, and she knew she was a goner. His smell was wafting over her, a mixture of spice and leather. She almost giggled as the verse Sugar and spice and everything nice flitted through her frazzled brain cells. Wait! That was for girls, not for drool-worthy men.
“I guess one dance wouldn’t hurt,” she finally said.
The shiver that rushed through her had nothing to do with the warm evening air. She wished she could say it was chilly out.
Without saying anything more, the stranger leaned down and took her hand in his slightly work-roughened fingers. He pulled her toward him, casually wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her now trembling rib cage as he led her toward the overflowing dance floor. Without hesitation, he turned her, pulled her tightly against his hard body, and began swaying to the music.
She couldn’t even concentrate on the song that was playing, he was holding her so close. Her heart was beating out of control. Wasn’t this something she’d fantasized about many times on those lonely nights that she lay in bed after putting aside her favorite romance book?
She’d close her eyes and picture a handsome man finding her sitting alone somewhere. He’d have a smile that could light up a darkened room, but his gleaming eyes would look no farther than her.
As she began to relax and enjoy the moment, a woman’s laughter made her tense all over again. Panic flooded her. What if this really was a dream—the dream she wanted to come true so bad? Maybe someone had even spiked that second glass of champagne she knew she should have turned down? This was too unbelievable to be real. After all, men like this man didn’t dance with wallflowers like her.
As her arms rested around the back of his neck, she reached for her own hand and gave it a quick pinch. She knew she looked ridiculous, but she had to be sure this was real. The little jolt of pain drew a quiet squeak from her lips. Oh yes, she was awake. She didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified by that fact.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, leaning back, those green eyes gazing into hers, just as she’d always imagined.
“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper. Her cheeks flamed as he looked at her, a knowing gleam in his eyes. She was busted and she knew it, but there was nothing else she could do, so she continued to sway in his arms.
“I’ve been watching you for the past ten minutes. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he told her.
Oh my! This man was either incredibly smooth, or she really had conjured up her dream man. Either way, she decided to enjoy this moment to its fullest. She found herself gazing at his lips as he spoke. He had beautiful lips—strong, firm, masculine, and turned up in the most appealing way.
“Thank you,” she told him, feeling like a fool as she uttered the words.
“Are you here for the bride or the groom?” he asked.
The dreaded question should have panicked her, but she was almost in a trance now and couldn’t help but answer honestly. “Neither. I snuck in with my friend. I can’t find her now.”
His eyes crinkled, though still, there was something restless about him that she couldn’t quite interpret. Something was wrong, but before she could analyze that, the feel of him pressing against her wiped anything other than desire away from her thoughts. Stormy didn’t have a clue who in the world she was right now. She certainly wasn’t this woman dancing with this man.
She’d had sex once before, two years prior with her high school sweetheart. That had been a disaster and she’d never tried it again.
Dancing with this man was making her think maybe another try wouldn’t be so bad. Did that make her an awful person? She didn’t know.
When he stopped moving, she felt her throat close. She wasn’t ready for him to release her. But he pulled back anyway, and where she’d felt his warmth down her entire front, she now felt cold. Then she noticed the music had stopped.
Maybe it was midnight and time for Cinderella to go home.
“Let’s take a walk.”
He began leading her away from the dance floor before she responded. His confidence was overwhelming her, but it didn’t matter. There was no hesitation on her part as joy filled her. Later, she might ask herself why that was, but for now, she was in her dream world.
The sounds of the party began fading as they moved away from the tents and lights and then down a trail.
As he slowly walked next to her, with trees on either side of them and the moonlight barely filtering through, Stormy wondered if she should be afraid. As his hand caressed her lower back, though, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of desire and . . . rightness. Not knowing why it felt right didn’t matter.
She soon found herself on a sandy beach, her shoes dangling from her fingers as she looked out at Puget Sound, the waves splashing gently against the shore. There was very little breeze and the full moon gave everything a soft light.
“This is incredible. I can’t imagine being so lucky as to live here,” she told the man. That’s when she realized she didn’t even know his name. Should she ask him? Or would that break their moment together? She sort of liked the mystery of it all.
“I think Joseph’s place is a little too close to the hustle and bustle of Seattle. But I do love the Sound. It’s a great waterway.”
“Are you here very often?” Was she being nosy now?
“Yes. I don’t live too far away.” He stopped walking and she stood next to him, enjoying the clasp of his fingers in hers. “Sit with me.”
He again didn’t wait for a response, simply led her to a log and then sat down, pulling her to his side as they gazed out at the water. He put an arm around her and the feel of his hard muscles enveloping her gave her both a sense of peace and panic at the same time.