‘HAVING second thoughts?'
Farrah didn't pretend not to know what he meant, grimacing her uncertainty. ‘And third and fourth ones too,’ she acknowledged. ‘But every time the answer comes out the same.'
Her apprehension had started the minute she stepped into his car this evening. His pure sophistication in white suit and black shirt had unsettled her and once again reminded her of his importance. Joel Falcone was a man who had worked himself up from a back-street child to a smooth polished man with an intelligence that baffled many a rival. But this nightclub had made her withdraw even more into her shell of shyness. There were so many celebrities here that she felt completely overwhelmed. And Joel Falcone seemed completely at home among them!
They were seated in a secluded corner, the reddish glow of the room surrounding them in a warm intimacy that was utterly deceiving. Couples were dancing in uninhibited abandon on the floor space provided, and Farrah felt less self-conscious about her revealed curves in the clinging dress after looking at some of the more exotic gowns being worn here.
The service was excellent and unobtrusive—and must surely be costing a small fortune in itself. This certainly wasn't the sort of place she would have chosen to come to, but she realised Joel Falcone must like this sort of atmosphere. He certainly seemed more relaxed, a faint mocking smile never far from those curved sensuous lips.
‘Joel! Darling!’ A tall girl, with long almost waist-length auburn hair, rushed to Joel's side, embracing him effusively as he stood up politely. ‘Where have you been all evening?’ she purred seductively.
Joel Falcone seemed to be withstanding this onslaught remarkably well, and instead of repulsing this girl's caresses he was actually encouraging her, returning the pressure of her lips with equal fervour. ‘Mmm,’ he sighed huskily. ‘You look good, Candida. As to where I've been, I've been sitting here all evening.'
The girl Candida grasped his arm possessively. ‘In that case, why haven't you joined the rest of us like you usually do?'
His arm was draped around her waist, his hand resting firmly on her hip. ‘I've—um—I've been otherwise engaged.’ He looked pointedly at Farrah.
Farrah found it difficult to meet the hostile gaze of the other girl, but nevertheless she managed to do so. Glacial blue eyes raked over her, a slight sneer to the girl's heavily painted lips. ‘But darling—–’ she began scathingly.
Joel put out a hand and pulled Farrah to her feet, his hold leaving the beautiful Candida and now encircling Farrah's slim waist. ‘Farrah, honey, come and meet Candida.'
The two girls looked at each other with dislike and finally it was Candida's gaze that dropped and fell away. Farrah wasn't particularly bothered about the other girl's dislike of her, but she did think that Joel Falcone should have acted less familiarly with her. After all, if she really had loved him and he her then she wouldn't have been able to meekly sit back and witness such behaviour.
‘Hello,’ Candida said huskily.
‘Good evening,’ Farrah replied formally.
She felt Joel Falcone's arm tighten painfully on her waist and the smile on his lips for her didn't reach the darkness of his eyes, deep unfathomable eyes that gave away nothing of his thoughts. ‘Candida is an old friend, my love,’ he chided gently.
So the act had begun! She had to force herself not to cringe away from such a false endearment. ‘Really?’ she looked at him steadily.
Candida's eyes had narrowed at Joel's protective air and murmured endearment. She pouted at him. ‘I thought I was more than a friend, Joel.'
He laughed at her exaggerated air of hurt. ‘Don't try to cause trouble, Candy. Farrah doesn't understand your warped sense of humour. And I won't have her hurt.'
The redhead looked away. ‘I see,’ she said quietly. ‘Are you going to join us?'
‘I'm not sure.’ He looked at Farrah. ‘Honey?'
She shied away from such a suggestion, unwilling to meet more of his friends if they resented her as much as the girl did. ‘I—I don't—–'
Joel didn't wait for the rest of her answer. He shook his head to Candy. ‘I don't think so. Not tonight.'
The beautiful redhead gave it one last reckless shot. ‘Is Laura coming here tonight?’ she asked casually.
She realised her mistake as Joel's eyes became icily cold. ‘I wouldn't know,’ he said shortly. ‘Laura and I no longer discuss our personal social engagements, as you very well know.'
Candida was instantly contrite. ‘I'm sorry, Joel, I didn't mean—–'
‘I know very well what you meant, Candy, and it wasn't anything polite. Now if you'll excuse us I think I'll take Farrah into the other room and do what passes for dancing in this place.'
Farrah followed him wordlessly, pulled along by his hold on her hand. She didn't have time to say goodbye to the other girl, but she didn't think it really mattered, as Joel had said, Candida did not have politeness on her mind. The poor girl had been positively green with jealousy. Farrah shook off all thoughts of the beautiful Candida, at the moment she had something more pressing to think about. She had seen what Joel said they called dancing when they came into the club, and to her it looked more like making love to music!
‘Relax,’ Joel murmured in her ear, bending down as they danced so that his face was buried in her creamy throat. ‘Try to look suitably ecstatic.'
Farrah was much too aware of his hard lithe body pressed close to her own to look anything else but terrified. She had never danced this close to a man before and each muscle and sinew was firmly outlined against her own trembling body. ‘How can I?’ she asked tautly. ‘When you terrify the life out of me.'
Joel moved his head up and away from her. ‘I do, Farrah Halliday? And how do I do that?'
She looked away from him crossly. ‘You mock me.'
‘I mock everyone, child,’ he said with some humour. ‘Including myself.'
‘But why are you so cynical?'
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I have no idea. Unless you count boredom as a reason.'
‘Boredom!’ Farrah was frankly astounded. ‘But you have so much.'
Joel's mouth twisted. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.'
Farrah wished they could sit down again, the movement of his body on hers was so blatantly sensual that she felt like part of the man himself. And yet they would have looked strange dancing any other way, everyone seemed to be moving with the same closeness. ‘Could we—–’ she cleared her throat. ‘Could we sit down again, please?'
‘Sure,’ his eyes mocked her silently as he saw her seated before sliding on to the bench seat beside her, his thigh brushing hers. ‘You don't like to dance?’ He watched her over the rim of his glass.
‘Yes, I like to dance,’ she said tartly. ‘But I wouldn't call that dancing.'
‘Just what would you call it?'
‘Making love to music?'
She heard him give a deep throaty chuckle and watched as his teeth flashed whitely and his blue eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘An apt description,’ he toasted her with his glass. ‘So you're a prude, Farrah Halliday.'
‘I am not! I just think that sort of thing should be done in private.'
‘What sort of thing?’ He watched the couples dancing for several seconds. ‘It's only body contact.'
Farrah wrinkled her nose delicately. ‘I didn't like it,’ she said firmly.
‘Strange,