“I can see from your big blue eyes that you haven’t forgotten that weekend. I don’t think you regret it as much as you’re saying,” he added softly.
“Oh, yes, I do!” she whispered, knowing she should walk away from him. But she simply stood there, mesmerized by his intense gaze. He was looking at her as if she were the only woman on earth.
“Okay, you’re working now. When this is over, go to dinner with me and let’s talk. Surely you can give me that much of your time,” he said with a faint smile.
Ashley paused, unable to tell him a lie, yet wanting to.
“There,” he said, as if she’d already agreed. “If I thought I was being intrusive and you couldn’t stand me, I wouldn’t insist, but you’re as breathless as I am.” His rich, deep voice was as tangible as a caress. “If nothing else, let’s go to dinner and see what happens.”
“Nothing will occur.”
His eyebrow arched wickedly. “You don’t know that for sure. Let my imagination have its own good time. When are you through working this reception?”
“When the bride and groom leave. My assistant is here, and the cleanup crew are experienced and know what to do.”
“Great! So you’ll go with me then.”
“I don’t see any point—”
“There’s a definite point,” he said. “It makes me incredibly happy. You won’t shatter my ego—”
She received a wide grin from him that tempted her to respond. “That’s impossible.”
“Ah, I think I see a glimmer of a smile,” he said, leaning down to peer at her.
“Now you’ve gotten your way,” she replied.
“Only about dinner,” he said. “There’s a whole lot more I want.”
Ashley drew a deep breath. The way he pulled on her senses was irresistible, magnetic. She had no control over how her body responded. She couldn’t understand her own reactions. He was so unreservedly autocratic, yet at the same time charismatic…
“I need to return to work.”
“You do recall our weekend together?” he asked softly. “It was one of the best I ever had.”
“It was a long time ago,” she said stiffly. “I’m going back to work.” She turned toward the dance floor and he hurried after her, holding her arm as they joined the other guests.
“I need to see about the bride,” she told him.
“I’ll find you when they leave.”
“Fine. I’ll be around,” she said.
“You sound as if I’m going to haul you to jail instead of take you to dinner,” he added lightly. Yet he gazed at her intently, and she could see the curiosity in his expression.
She realized the more she tried to get rid of him, the more interested he became. “I think you’re unaccustomed to hearing no.”
“I have to admit that I’m curious why. We can talk about it later. Go do what you have to do now.”
“I see you two know each other,” Nick Colton said, joining them and turning to Ashley. “And I saw you dancing with Ryan. Now I’d like a turn.” He moved forward to place himself between the pair.
Just as she was about to decline, Ryan moved closer, putting a possessive arm around her shoulder. “We’re very old and good friends. Ashley really can’t dance while she’s on the job. You’re out of luck this time.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to object when Emily touched her arm. “Please excuse me, both of you,” Ashley said, turning to the bride and wishing she had avoided letting Ryan talk her into a dinner date.
“The photographer is asking about me tossing my bouquet,” Emily said.
“It’s time, and you rescued me from dancing when I have other things to do. Ryan doesn’t take refusal well.”
An hour later, Emily told Ashley that she and Jake would be leaving soon. Ashley asked her brown-haired assistant, Jenna Fremont, to take over. Then Ashley left, wondering if she was making a huge mistake.
Another first caused by Ryan. She had never run from someone before, and she felt terrible one minute and relieved the next. If he really wanted to see her, he knew how to find her now. But she suspected another quick departure from her would turn him off for good. Men like Ryan did not chase after women who didn’t want to see them. They were probably accustomed to females chasing after them.
At her duplex apartment in a gated area, Ashley spent the evening thinking about Ryan. She couldn’t get him out of her thoughts, and in some ways, she was disappointed she wasn’t with him.
She remembered with clarity the excitement she’d had with him, as well as the reasons she had wanted to get away from him.
Early that Sunday morning when they had been together, Ashley had awakened to find him missing. She’d wrapped herself in a towel and gone looking for him, stopping in her tracks when she heard low voices. He’d been arguing with a woman.
Ashley had known he was a millionaire playboy, so she shouldn’t have been surprised by the presence of a woman.
But suddenly, she realized just how stupid she was in giving herself to him completely that wild weekend. Dressing swiftly, she’d gathered her things. While he still talked, she had slipped out a back door, getting away from his condo as quickly as possible and into the taxi she’d called from her cell phone. They hadn’t had contact since then—until today.
Finding it difficult to get to sleep now, she tossed and turned. When she finally did doze, she dreamed of Ryan and being in his arms again.
The next day, while she tried to do chores she had put off in the last hectic days of getting ready for the Carlisle-Thorne marriage, she couldn’t shake him out of her thoughts.
No matter what she did, Ryan was there in her mind.
They had nothing in common. She was a farm girl who’d come to the city and gotten a job. She was sending some of her paycheck home to help her family, because of her father’s poor health and financial troubles from a flood last year. Her brother had given up his college education to work on the farm full-time, too. Ryan’s world was light-years away from hers. He was a multimillionaire, a self-made man who moved in international circles. He usually had a beautiful socialite with him and lived a jet-set life.
She was amazed he’d even noticed her when they’d met at a party, yet she had fallen into his arms and into his bed with complete abandon. So why wouldn’t he have had a pleasurable weekend that he wanted to prolong?
Recalling the large party, for a charity event at a Dallas country club, she remembered how a waiter had slipped while carrying a tray filled with glasses of champagne. Strong arms had caught her to pull her out of the way, and she’d looked up into Ryan’s green eyes and been captivated. The attraction was hot, instant and intense. They’d made introductions. They had flirted, talked, and he had charmed her. Eventually she’d told the friends she had come with to leave without her because Ryan would take her home. They had gone to his condo, and in another hour, she had been in his arms, and later, in his bed. She had given her body to him intimately, had explored his and shared her life, even telling him what desperate financial straits her family was in, and how she was helping them. Why had she been so free and open in every possible way with Ryan? He had seduced her and won her total trust.
Disgusted with herself, she tried to stop thinking about him now, finally getting out her bank statements and checking her entries and withdrawals for her business that month. She wrote her regular monthly check to her father, which included every penny she could spare.
When