The woman in question was partially hidden by Emily’s dress. Her head was turned, body angled away so he could only make out the sweep of neck and bare shoulders, the fiery red hair bundled up in a sleek knot at her nape.
Then she moved and a spear of golden sunlight sharpened her profile.
He gasped as everything went out of focus.
“You know her?” Paige asked sharply.
“No. Excuse me for a moment.” Ignoring Paige’s frown, he shoved his glass into her hand and moved purposely forward.
She was five feet away, lagging behind the rest of the wedding party and talking to a smooth-looking guy. He paused, head spinning as the past flooded in to seize his senses. Angelina Jayne Reynolds—AJ. Angel, he’d whispered in her ear, deep in the throes of passion as she’d writhed beneath him. The nickname suited her. From her pale ethereal skin, long elegant limbs and ice-blue eyes, to the deep auburn shock of hair that tumbled down her back in flaming waves, she was a mixture of heaven and hell all rolled into one. A woman who’d set his blood boiling with her joyous laugh and come-hither grin. A woman who’d driven him crazy for six whole months, burned up his sheets, then walked out of his life without a word. It had taken him close to a year to forget that.
But you didn’t really forget, did you?
He knew the moment she sensed him staring. Her back straightened and then her shoulders as she scanned the crowd with a faint frown. His gaze remained fixated on her nape, that spot where her gathered hair revealed vulnerable skin. He remembered kissing that spot, making her first giggle in delight, then sigh in rapturous pleasure....
Finally, she turned and the reality of all those missing years slammed into him, making the air whoosh from his lungs.
AJ had been gorgeous at twenty-three. But now she was...breathtaking. Life and experience had sharpened her features, accentuating her jaw and chin. Creamy skin and high cheekbones emphasized those blue cat’s eyes, the corners slanting up in a permanent air of mischief.
Then there was her mouth...a luscious swell of warmth and seduction painted a glossy shade of magenta that conjured up all sorts of dirty images.
Finally, her gaze met his. It registered brief feminine appreciation, skipped away then snapped back to him in wide-eyed shock.
He couldn’t help but smile.
Somehow, the distance between them disintegrated and he was suddenly standing right in front of her.
“AJ Reynolds. You look...” He paused, only half aware of the noise and movement pulsing around them. “Good.”
“Matthew Cooper.” Her voice came out rushed, slightly breathy, stirring something he’d buried long ago. “It’s been a long time.”
“Nearly ten years.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She threaded her fingers in front of her, the perfect picture of demureness. He frowned, his eyes skimming over her elegant ice-blue dress, the small butterfly necklace at her throat, the tiny diamond stud earrings. Something was off.
“You’re not used to seeing me dressed like this.”
Visions of tangled sweaty limbs and hot breathless kisses caused a zing of desire to shoot through him. She must’ve sensed it because she quickly added, “I mean...the gown.”
With an inward curse, he got himself under control. “It is kind of...”
“Fancy?”
“Elegant.”
Her mouth twisted as she glanced fleetingly across the room. “I know you don’t know my sister. So how do you know Zac?”
The bride was her sister? “Through Paige Cooper.”
Her eyes widened. “The ring designer?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife is very talented.” She smiled politely.
“Sister.”
“Ah.” She glanced at the bridal party, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“There were lots of things we didn’t talk about.”
She simply nodded and smiled at a passing guest, her fingers still threaded in front of her.
Had she ever been this restrained? He remembered AJ as a colorful, passionate talker, using expression and movement to engage. But now it felt almost painfully polite.
Not surprising, considering how they’d parted.
He shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
“Well...” She shot a glance past his shoulder and when he followed it, he spotted Zac and Emily being seated at the bridal table. Off to the side, Paige was deep in conversation with a blinged-out teenager. “It was nice seeing you, Matthew.”
“Wait,” he said, curling his fingers around her arm. She stilled, her eyes snapping up to his, and he quickly released her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She gave a slight laugh. “We have an open bar.”
“Later.” He held her gaze pointedly.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said, her smile slowly fading.
“A dance, then.”
“Why?”
Her directness startled him for one second before he remembered that it was just one of her many appealing traits. “Because I’d like to.”
What the hell was he doing? The rational part of his brain was telling him to just let her go. But the unsatisfied, something’s-missing part that had survived his marriage’s collapse and last week’s agonizing new client contract negotiations egged him on.
AJ wasn’t a part of his reality. She was a bright memory from his past—an idealistic, purposeful past full of ambition for the future. She was the beach, short shorts, laughter and sensual lovemaking. His present was vastly different. It was endless meetings and lonely foreign countries, the occasional life-threatening situation, a deceitful ex-wife and nosy parents who just couldn’t let the past go. He couldn’t let her leave. Not yet.
“A dance,” he repeated, fixing her with a firm look.
She studied him in silence. Odd. Wasn’t this the woman who gave new meaning to impulsive? Yet now she seemed downright cautious.
“Matthew, I’m being as polite as possible, given we’re at my sister’s wedding. But let me make this clear—I do not want to drink or dance with you. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She smiled, then turned on her heel and headed over to the bridal table, leaving him speechless and frowning in her wake.
He glared at her gently swaying backside and the swish of ice-blue skirts billowing around her ankles.
Huh. Guess she’s still pissed off with you, then.
Two long hours crawled by, one hundred and twenty agonizing minutes in which AJ wished more than once she still drank alcohol. A champagne buzz would definitely help get her past this irritating awareness of her ex.
His hair is longer, she reflected as she ate dessert. The shaggy style lent a romantic air to his bold features: the wide Roman nose, the dark eyebrows framing dreamy chocolate-brown eyes, the firm jaw shaded with stubble and the