Royal Seduction. Donna Clayton

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Royal Seduction - Donna  Clayton


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      Without breaking eye contact, they drank deeply.

      An hour and a half later, they were back in the car.

      “Dinner was lovely,” Catherine said.

      “I worked at the restaurant for a while as a kid. I bused tables, washed dishes, anything they needed me to do.” The owners had taken a gamble on him, and in doing so had given him a second chance. He’d spend the rest of his life feeling grateful. But he preferred that Catherine—and everyone else he’d ever meet—never know the details of that part of his life. In fact, he planned to do all he could to keep his secrets to himself.

      Before she could inquire further, he said, “Do you like music? Are you up for listening to a little jazz?”

      “Oh, I love jazz.”

      Riley could feel excitement pulsing off her in waves.

      “I’m having such a great time tonight, Riley. Thank you.”

      Her effusive appreciation made his chest swell. He was reaping far too much pleasure from making this woman happy.

      The parking lot of Midnight Blues was nearly packed. Riley pulled his sports car into one of the few remaining spots at the very rear of the lot.

      When they entered the club, the sultry strains of a clarinet weaved with a saxophone’s smoky, soulful notes. A double bass was the glue that held the warm harmonics together.

      Catherine tossed her evening bag down on an empty table and caught his hand in hers.

      “Riley…”

      The pleading in her tone and the scorching heat of her skin sliding softly against his hit him like a one, two sucker punch to the jaw.

      “Can we dance?” She gave his fingers a tug, sending a message that she didn’t intend to take no for an answer. “Please?”

      The boldness she flaunted appalled Catherine. She’d been trained to be modest and reserved. If she were back at home, she’d have squelched the brashness that continued to nudge her and fill her with confidence she didn’t normally have.

      There was something about Riley. Something that liberated her. Something that made her feel not only limitless, but uninhibited, too. Her family would be shocked by her behavior, she was certain. But they were far away. Thank God!

      Out on the dance floor, she twirled toward Riley, and his arms settled around her as if they’d been dancing partners a thousand times before. One of his strong hands clasped hers, and the other snuggled down low at the small of her back.

      He smelled…

      “Nice,” she murmured, closing her eyes to enjoy him.

      Like sandalwood and citrus.

      Catherine splayed her palm against his chest and was surprised by how firm his pecs were beneath his dress shirt. Her heart pattered like a butterfly’s wings. Flipping and fluttering.

      “The music is nice,” he said, thinking he was agreeing with her statement.

      She only smiled up into his handsome face for a second before closing her eyes again.

      They swayed and turned and rocked. The smooth tune seemed to fuse the two of them into one being, and they moved as a solitary unit.

      Instinct had her pressing her temple to his cheek. “You’re a good dancer,” she whispered.

      “So are you.”

      Each time he spoke, she felt the sexy vibration under the flat of her hand. Being pressed against him so tightly thrilled her more than anything else she’d ever experienced in her life.

      Her insides were jittery and she decided the feeling was pure anticipation, the keen expectation of what the remainder of the night held in store. But she gently prodded the eagerness away. If she focused too much on what might happen later, she would miss the truly romantic moments taking place in the here and now.

      Leaning back a fraction, she looked up into his face. Strong bone structure formed sharp angles she found more than just a little attractive. She zeroed in on his mouth.

      She’d seen it formed into a firm slash that gave the impression he was displeased. And those lips all too often turned down into a frown. But at this moment, there was a softness there. A suppleness that had her wanting to explore.

      How would his lips feel against hers?

      Catherine’s pulse quickened when she thought about the end of their evening. Would he kiss her good-night? That was the American tradition, wasn’t it? For a man to kiss his date when he dropped her off at her door?

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