Matt Caldwell: Texas Tycoon. Diana Palmer
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back years. He had no idea what sort of damage he could do to her fragile emotions.
The singer finished her song, and the audience applauded. She introduced the members of the band and the next number, a beautiful, rhythmic feast called “Brazil.” It was Leslie’s very favorite piece of music, and she could dance to it, despite her leg. She longed, ached, for someone to take her on the dance floor and let her show those stiff, inhibited people how to fly to that poignant rhythm!
Watching her, Matt saw the hunger in her eyes. Ed couldn’t do those steps, but he could. Without a word, he handed Carolyn his empty plate and got to his feet.
Before Leslie had a chance to hesitate or refuse outright, he pulled her gently out of her seat and onto the dance floor.
His dark eyes met her shocked pale ones as he caught her waist in one lean, strong hand and took her left hand quite reverently into his right one.
“I won’t make any sudden turns,” he assured her. He nodded once, curtly, to mark the rhythm.
And then he did something remarkable.
Leslie caught her breath as she recognized his ability. She forgot to be afraid of him. She forgot that she was nervous to be held by a man. She was caught up in the rhythm and the delight of having a partner who knew how to dance to perfection the intricate steps that accompanied the Latin beat.
“You’re good,” Matt mused, smiling with genuine pleasure as they measured their quick steps to the rhythm.
“So are you.” She smiled back.
“If your leg gives you trouble, let me know and I’ll get you off the floor. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Then let’s go!”
He moved her across the floor with the skill of a professional dancer and she followed him with such perfection that other dancers stopped and got out of the way, moving to the sidelines to watch what had become pure entertainment.
Matt and Leslie, enjoying the music and their own interpretation of it, were blind to the other guests, to the smiling members of the band, to everything except the glittering excitement of the dance. They moved as if they were bound by invisible strings, each to the other, with perfectly matching steps.
As the music finally wound down, Matt drew her in close against his lean frame and tilted her down in an elegant, but painful, finish.
The applause was thunderous. Matt drew Leslie upright again and noticed how pale and drawn her face was.
“Too much too soon,” he murmured. “Come on. Off you go.”
He didn’t move closer. Instead, he held out his arm and let her come to him, let her catch hold of it where the muscle was thickest. She clung with both hands, hating herself for doing something so incredibly stupid. But, oh, it had been fun! It was worth the pain.
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Matt eased her down into her chair again.
“Do you have any aspirin in that tiny thing?” Matt asked, indicating the small string purse on her arm.
She grimaced.
“Of course not.” He turned, scanning the audience. “Back in a jiffy.”
He moved off in the general direction of the punch bowl while Ed caught Leslie’s hand in his. “That was great,” he enthused. “Just great! I didn’t know you could dance like that.”
“Neither did I,” she murmured shyly.
“Quite an exhibition,” Carolyn agreed coolly. “But silly to do something so obviously painful. Now Matt will spend the rest of the night blaming himself and trying to find aspirin, I suppose.” She got up and marched off with her barely touched plate and Matt’s empty one.
“Well, she’s in a snit,” Ed observed. “She can’t dance like that.”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Leslie murmured. “But it was so much fun, Ed! I felt alive, really alive!”
“You looked it. Nice to see your eyes light up again.”
She made a face at him. “I’ve spoiled Carolyn’s evening.”
“Fair trade,” he murmured dryly, “she spoiled mine the minute she got into the limousine and complained that I smelled like a sweets shop.”
“You smell very nice,” she replied.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
Matt was suddenly coming back toward them, with Lou Coltrain by the arm. It looked as if she were being forcibly escorted across the floor and Ed had to hide the grin he couldn’t help.
“Well,” Lou huffed, staring at Matt before she lowered her gaze to Leslie. “I thought you were dying, considering the way he appropriated me and dragged me over here!”
“I don’t have any aspirin,” Leslie said uneasily. “I’m sorry…”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Lou said instantly. She patted Leslie’s hand gently. “But you’ve had some pretty bad bruising and this isn’t the sort of exercise I’d recommend. Shattered bones are never as strong, even when they’re set properly—and yours were not.”
Embarrassed, Leslie bit her lower lip.
“You’ll be okay,” Lou promised with a gentle smile. “In fact, exercise is good for the muscles that support that bone—it makes it stronger. But don’t do this again for a couple of weeks, at least. Here. I always carry aspirin!”
She handed Leslie a small metal container of aspirin and Matt produced another cup of soda water and stood over her, unsmiling, while she took two of the aspirins and swallowed them.
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