“Of course.”
Tamara watched Deanna hurry back to Eric, remembering how happy she had been on her own wedding day. How in love. How she had wholeheartedly believed her marriage to Patrick would last forever.
Stop thinking about Patrick, she told herself. This is Deanna and Eric’s day, and they’re going to have a wonderful life together. Tamara was certain of that. Just looking at them, she knew they had that inexplicable X factor she and Patrick hadn’t. The ease of communication, the obvious respect. A gentle kind of love that would carry them through the hard times.
“Can I have this dance?”
Tamara turned. And her heart slammed against her rib cage when she saw Marshall standing there.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“May I have this dance?” Marshall repeated and extended a hand to her.
Well, this was a surprise. He hadn’t given her more than a fleeting glance after the ceremony, and he had passed her by when everyone had been mingling at the reception hall. She had, however, caught his eye more than once, but the fact that he hadn’t made a point of saying hello had led her to believe that he wasn’t interested in talking to her.
And now here he was, asking for a dance.
“You want to dance with me?” Tamara asked.
“Why do you seem so surprised? A beautiful woman like you? What man in his right mind wouldn’t?”
Tamara narrowed her eyes. Didn’t he remember her? All this time, she had expected him to approach her to say hello. When he hadn’t, she’d assumed it was because of his date. Some women got irrationally jealous if their man talked to another female. But now, as he looked down at her, Tamara figured that he must not remember her. Surely if he knew who she was, he would address her with a sense of familiarity.
“Don’t make me beg,” Marshall continued, the corners of his lips lifting in a charming smile. “This is a wedding. I assure you, I’m not some creep from off the street.”
That confirmed it. He had no idea who she was. It was a little bit humorous, in fact. He had gone after her cousin with such steadfast determination that he had obviously taken no note of her.
“All right.” Tamara took his proffered hand, smirking with the secret knowledge that he was clueless.
Marshall led her the short distance to the dance floor and then took her in his arms and pulled her close. Her breasts flattened against the hard wall of his chest, and the unexpected sensation of his body against hers caused her breathing to halt for a few seconds.
What a physique he had. His chest was muscular and strong, and so were his shoulders where she’d brought her hands to rest. She hadn’t been able to see his sculpted figure beneath his suit, but she could certainly feel how fit he was now that they were dancing.
Of course he had a magnificent body. A man like Marshall would make sure to stay in tip-top shape for the ladies.
He pulled her a little closer and lowered his hand down her back, causing a shiver to dance down her spine. His hand stayed a respectable distance above her behind, but the warmth of it emanated through her dress and across her skin. And when his fingertips urged her even closer, she felt a startling flush.
It had to be the wine, she told herself. She’d had a couple of glasses with dinner. Clearly, the alcohol was getting to her head.
“See? No reason to fear me,” he said into her ear, his voice low and deep.
And as if he had whispered sweet nothings in her ear, she felt another flush.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the wine. Maybe it was the fact that Marshall was a manly man, one who knew how to touch a woman, how to look at her and make her feel incredibly beautiful. That was all a part of his charm, and clearly Tamara wasn’t immune to it. And that surprised her.
Though maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Obviously, she wasn’t dead. A woman would have to be blind and without any senses at all to not know that Marshall was an attractive man. More than attractive. He was fine.
And not only did he look good and feel good, he smelled good.
Tamara’s eyes widened with alarm. Why on earth was she thinking about the fact that he smelled good?
“I hear you’re from Cleveland,” he said, distracting her from her thoughts. “How is it I’ve never seen you around before?”
“You’ve seen everyone within the city limits?” Tamara challenged.
He eased back to look down at her. “Someone like you I would have noticed.”
Tamara leaned her head forward so that he wouldn’t see her face and rolled her eyes. He was so predictable. Did every player in the world have to comment on how odd it was that an attractive woman had escaped his prowl?
“I didn’t exactly look like this when I moved from Cleveland the summer after my freshman year of college. I was too skinny, had no fashion sense. I didn’t attract a lot of male attention.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
Tamara eyed him, thinking it ironic that he didn’t realize his very words were proving her point. Obviously, her very boring appearance had to be why he hadn’t noticed her when he was dating Gloria. True, she hadn’t met him many times, but it was clear that his encounters with the shy, gawky kid she’d been had not been memorable.
One of the reasons Tamara had been drawn to Patrick when they’d met was because he had seemed smitten with her. Patrick had been older, worldly, and saw her as a diamond in the rough in a sea of more sophisticated women. Ironic, when Tamara had started to become a more confident person, Patrick hadn’t liked it.
“I didn’t hang out much,” Tamara added. “I was more of a bookworm. I didn’t do the club scene.”
“Maybe that explains it,” Marshall said. “You must have been hidden away somewhere. Your father was probably afraid to let you out into the world.”
Tamara rolled her eyes again. So he really had no clue.
A few seconds later, when the song ended, Tamara began to ease back. “Well, thanks for the—”
“Oh, no no no. I’m not ready to let you go yet. The music is still slow. We can keep dancing.”
She eyed him with curiosity as the Charlie Wilson song began to play. “Seriously, don’t you think your date will get upset?” Tamara hadn’t seen the woman in a while, but she didn’t have to see her to know that a second dance with another woman would no doubt irk his date.
“My date?” Marshall looked confused. “Oh, my cousin. She left.”
“Your cousin?” Tamara asked doubtfully.
“So you noticed me,” Marshall said, sounding amused.
“Who wouldn’t?” Tamara countered. “Tell me, was her dress painted on?”
Marshall chuckled, a throaty sound that was all too enticing. “Renee likes attention, I’ll give you that. She had to head home right after dinner. She agreed to accompany me because I didn’t have a date.”
Now Tamara was the one who laughed. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who has a hard time finding a date. Unless, of course, you’ve gone through all the women in Cleveland...”
“Ah!” Marshall exclaimed, his lips widening in a grin. “I like you. You’re funny.”
She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was diplomatically letting him know that she knew exactly what kind of man he was.
But the interchange between them was becoming more interesting by the second, and she was suddenly feeling a little mischievous.