Wedding Chocolate. Adrianne Byrd

whirled around on her heel with intentions to march away, but Derrick’s hands returned to her waist and he spun her around so in the end, she’d made a complete circle.

      “Oh, no you don’t.” He chuckled. “You’re not running away from me this time. At least not until we’re finished dancing.”

      At long last, she managed to unglue her tongue. “Dance with—” She glanced about; but was surprised, though she shouldn’t have been, to see Keri had disappeared.

      “C’mon now. I can’t be that repulsive,” Derrick said, following her gaze. “Before meeting you, I found that most women liked my company.”

      “Then I’ll leave you to your fan club,” Isabella replied bitterly and then made another attempt to strand him on the dance floor.

      “My, my, my. That’s quite a temper you have there.”

      “What? I do not!” she snapped and then during his resulting laughter realized that her tone contradicted her words. “Oh, whatever.” She made a third attempt to escape, but his firm hold was having none of that.

      “Let go,” she growled and despite the loud music she knew that he had heard her.

      Derrick ignored the order. “If I let go, you’ll run away.”

      “That is the idea,” she said sweetly.

      “And the reason I’m not letting you go.” He shared a magnanimous smile. “Looks like we have a stalemate.”

      Isabella couldn’t remember ever being so angry. Who did this idiot think he was?

      “So why did you change your hair?” Derrick asked, ignoring her narrowed gaze and darkening face. “I liked it long...and black.”

      “Nobody asked you what you liked,” she spat.

      Derrick shrugged, never missing a beat while moving to the music. “I just figured that you’d like a man’s opinion. I imagine it’s the reason for this drastic change in your clothes and makeup. That or you’re looking for a drastic change in careers. A lady of the evening, perhaps—or video vixen?”

      His words completed her humiliation and tears stung her eyes.

      Seeing her distress, Derrick stopped his teasing and loosened his hold. “Oh, I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to upset you.”

      “No? Telling a woman that she looks like a hooker was meant to be a compliment?”

      He winced and finally stopped dancing. “I’m sorry,” he said, and truly looked as though he were. “I was just trying to say I liked you the way you were.”

      As quickly as his harsh words had wounded her pride, the new ones had mended it and even caused a warm flush of pleasure to blaze through her body.

      Derrick’s keen gaze caught how the apples of her cheeks darkened and he was pleased that he’d finally wrangled his way onto her good side. “All’s forgiven?”

      When Isabella lifted her tranquil maple-brown eyes to his, a strange rush of emotion flooded his senses. His brain scrambled, trying to make some sense of what was happening to him; but the only answer that seemed to fit came from an old familiar voice.

      When you look into her eyes and her soul speaks to you. That’s a love worth dying for.

      Derrick broke eye contact to search for her engagement ring. At the sight of her bare, slender fingers, his smile bloomed wider. “What do you say we head over to the bar?”

      Her hesitancy frightened him a moment. What could he really do if she’d said no? After she made a few cursory glances around her, she responded, “One drink.”

      He complied with a simple nod and then led her off the dance floor with one arm still locked around her waist in silent possession. However, it took a little work finding a spot at one of the club’s multiple bars.

      “Two Incredible Hulks,” Derrick yelled to the bartender.

      “Two what?” Isabella inquired.

      Derrick turned up the charm to full blast. “Trust me. You’ll love them.” He moved his stool closer so he could have her all to himself in a private alcove. Instead of getting upset, this time his mysterious woman smiled.

      “So when are you going to tell me your name?”

      She hesitated. “Isabella.”

      He repeated the name and then shortened it to, “Bella.”

      “I guess anything is better than Izzy,” she confessed. “My friends call me that.”

      His brows quirked in surprise. “If you don’t like it, why do your friends call you that?”

      “Old habit. I let them get away with it in college and it stuck.” She shrugged. “I guess I was hoping it would grow on me.”

      “And it hasn’t?”

      She laughed as she shook her head. “I hate it.”

      “Your drinks, sir.” The bartender set the radioactive-looking drinks down on the bar. “Enjoy.”

      Derrick lifted his drink and proposed a toast. “To your new nickname ‘Bella.’ May you think of me every time you hear it.”

      Isabella laughed at the absurd proposal, but lifted her drink anyway. Together they took their first sips, their gazes locking above the rim of their glasses.

      She couldn’t describe the charge of emotions his smoldering black gaze caused nor could she rationalize why this gorgeous man seemed so interested in her. Even with her enhanced figure, there were bigger breasts and bigger booties to chase on the dance floor. Yet, Derrick Knight seemed to only have eyes for her.

      It was a glorious feeling and it was one that she hoped to enjoy for at least a little while longer.

      “So,” Derrick said, setting his drink aside. “Read any good books lately?”

      Isabella choked.