With a grin capable of melting cold steel, he clasped our fingers together and walked beside me to the center of the polished dance floor. He lifted his hand, sending me on a stroll around him, then wrapped one arm around my waist. We moved as one in an inappropriate waltz as he nudged my body a bit too close to his. Soon other couples floated out around us, and Blane drew me closer. The spicy scent of his cologne tickled my nose and the hand I’d previously rested on his shoulder crept up to trace a line down his neck. I smiled as his eyes closed at the touch. “Your accent is very different from your brother’s.”
He nodded, and for a moment, I believed it a mystery I’d have to solve on my own.
“Our parents split when we were born. Dad was from London and he wanted to go home. Momma couldn’t leave her family behind. Jamie grew up with Dad in England and Mom kept me.”
“They separated you guys?” Growing up without anyone of my sisters in my life would have changed me in ways I didn’t want to contemplate. I pushed those thoughts away and smiled as I smoothed a silky curl at the back of his neck. “And nothing short of a chick flick, you all ended up back here?”
He nodded.
“Your dad gave up London for her.” Some fairy tales had happy endings. I had hope.
“I spent a whole summer with Jamie and Dad in London. When it was time for me to leave, I didn’t want to come home and be cheated out of all the things fifteen-year-old boys did with their dad and brother. I wanted to hang out and do more guy stuff, but I wanted to be with my mom too. Then, the good Lord stepped in and gave me appendicitis the day before my flight. She rushed over there. They fell in love over my hospital bed, and here we are.”
His hand pressed more firmly into the small of my back, caressed the skin bared by the drop waist of the dress, and my heart fluttered. “Their own happily ever after?”
“It took a little while to work out the logistics of Jamie leaving all his friends and Dad getting a job over here, but they figured it out. By Christmas, Jamie and I were sharing a room, and Dad had a job at the auto plant.” He brought our clasped hands up to his chest, fingers stroking soft and sure against mine. His heart thumped under the crisp white of his tuxedo shirt. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
I nodded. “Seven sisters.” As I spoke, an unfamiliar pang of homesickness shot through my stomach. Homesick? Me? The little stab had to be something else.
“Seven?” His eyes widened, probably imagining seven females jostling for bathroom mirror space. Or maybe that was my own memory slipping in before I could stop it.
“It was a PMS nightmare.”
He shook his head. “Your poor dad.”
“He’s a big tough guy. He handled it like a trouper.” I’d just turned seventeen, and my youngest sister was three when Mom packed her bags and jumped on the next Harley rider out of town. It took Dad about six seconds to settle the waves left in her wake.
“Sounds brave.”
“Well, I never found a monster under my bed.”
“I guess that’s all a girl can ask for.”
We danced a few more minutes, his arms cradling me, his fingertips tracing the bones of my back in little circles. As the music ended, we stepped apart, him to return to his assigned seat and me to mine. Instead of letting me go, he held on to my hand. “Wanna get some air?”
I tossed a look over my shoulder to where Rory and Jack sat. Sit with people who would want to chat about auction items and dinner selections or take a stroll with tall, dark, and Texan? I nodded. “Sure.”
The patio overlooked a golf course and stretched around the building on one side, ending on the other at a decorative pool lit by floating candles on plastic lily pads. Bistro tables with cast-iron chairs sat on the etched concrete. As soon as we stepped outside, Blane turned and leaned his forehead against mine, drawing me tighter, closer. The night air cooled my heated skin, and goose bumps rose on my flesh. Yeah. Night air. That’s it. My heart pumped anticipation through my veins.
“I want to kiss you.” The purr in his voice washed over me, and I almost sighed out loud.
“Are you asking my permission or telling me a plan?”
He grinned and lowered his head to brush his lips across mine. That simple touch morphed into a tangle of fingers and hair, bodies crushed together, skyrockets exploding in my mind. For however long it lasted, time meant nothing, exhilaration raced through me, and passion heated every square inch of my skin. His tongue danced with mine, heightening every sensation. He brushed his hands along my hips, up my ribs, and back down again.
I ignored the first soft “ahem,” tuned out the slightly louder second, but the tap on my shoulder accompanying the third demanded attention. Sighing, I broke the kiss, eased back a hair’s width, and glanced over my shoulder at the offender attached to the poking index finger. “What?”
Rory looked up at Blane. “I need a minute with Grace.”
He smiled down at me, brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and tickled my flesh with a whisper. “It was fun while it lasted.”
With a wink to Rory, he strode back inside the ballroom, every step punctuated by a cool swagger absent of a single falter. I watched the shift of his back, the fit of his pants, and sway of his hips until he disappeared in the sea of dancers.
After snatching Rory’s flute of champagne, I downed it in one long, smooth swallow. Handing her the crystal back, I smiled. “Thanks.” She cocked one eyebrow, and I faked a glare. “You owe me. I was really getting into that.” My heart pounded in my ears, the effect of the alcohol taking more time than usual to calm me.
“He’s the state’s attorney, Grace. He’s prosecuting your client.”
Of course he was. I turned without a word and walked away.
Chapter 5
After circling the building, kicking at imaginary stones, and muttering a few curse words, I came to a where Rory stood waiting with a fresh glass of champagne.
“Prosecuting my client?” I turned back toward the lush green grass off the patio. “I should have known.”
Rory stood with her back against the railing. “I didn’t know you knew Blane.”
“I met him at the grocery store.” And he liked me, dammit. “What would you do?”
She shook her head and held up a hand. “Oh, no. No. No. No. My Dear Abby days are over. I don’t give love life advice.”
The scent of his cologne arrived before he did, seeping into my senses, heating my body before he pressed close. His arm wrapped around my waist, offered a glass of some amber colored liquid. I took the drink and emptied the glass as he whispered, “I do, and I advise you to dance with me.”
“I can’t dance with you Blane. My client…”
He trailed his fingertip down my throat, and I forgot every single reason I shouldn’t be in his arms, looking into his eyes, and pressing as close as I could get.
Rory shot me a one-eyebrow-cocked look, then left me to fend for myself. Where was the BFF support? The strength in numbers? “You’re the prosecutor, Blane.”
“Not tonight. Tonight, I’m a guy who wants to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. No clients, no office. Me and you. That’s it.” His voice, the cadence and come-get-me sexiness, could have heated hell.
The chatter of conversations and clinking of tableware said dinner started without us. “They stopped the music.”
He pulled me tight against him. With one hand on my stomach and the other laced through mine at my hip, he swayed us side to side. Every cell and pore in my body burned with heat as he nuzzled the spot under my ear with his