The Billionaire's Contract Bride. Carol Marinelli
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reality was far worse. ‘Zavier, why don’t you take Tabitha for a dance?’
She braced herself for rejection. Zavier Chambers didn’t look like the kind of man who did anything he didn’t want to, and after the way he had addressed her earlier she was dismally confident of one thing: dancing with a money-grabbing gold-digger wouldn’t be high on his list of priorities. Not that she wanted to dance; ten minutes alone with this man had truly terrified her.
‘I’d love to.’
She looked up with a start, and as he offered his hand had no choice but to accept. Standing, she turned somewhat anxiously over to Aiden for some support, but he really was the worse for wear now.
Zavier’s hand was hot and dry, closing over hers tightly. As he led her to the dance floor Tabitha had the strangest urge to make a bolt for it, to wrench her hand away and run to the safety of her hotel room. As if sensing her trepidation, he closed his hand more tightly on hers, only letting go when they were in the middle of the tightly packed dance floor.
Slipping his hand around her slender waist, he rested it there. She could feel the heat through her flimsy dress. A couple dancing past bumped her, forcing her closer to him. Zavier gripped her more tightly, steadying her as she toppled slightly.
‘You’re having a terrible night, aren’t you?’ He had to stoop to meet her ear, and as he did he held her closer. His hot breath tickled her earlobes, and despite the heat of the room Tabitha broke out in goosebumps as she felt his hands tighten around the small of her back.
‘Of course I’m not. Everyone’s been charming,’ she lied, in what she hoped was a convincing voice.
But Zavier begged to differ. ‘You’ve been sitting on your own most of the night, trying to pretend you don’t mind. I’ve been watching you.’
That he’d noticed Tabitha found strangely touching; that he’d been watching her she found pleasantly disturbing. But she didn’t answer at first. His hands on her back were having the strangest effect. All she wanted to do was rest her head on his chest, to let the heavy beat of the music fill her, to lose herself in the moment.
‘So this is a sympathy dance?’
‘No, I don’t do anything out of sympathy.’
She wanted so badly to believe him, wanted to believe it was her stunning good looks that had brought him over—hell, she’d even settle for her witty personality—but the facts spoke for themselves: Marjory had commandeered the whole thing. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was high and slightly breathless.
‘For what?’
Dragging her eyes up, she was stunned to see the change in him; the icy stare had melted, replaced by the moist sheen of lust, but his dilated pupils in no way softened the intensity of his gaze. Running a tongue over her lips, she forced a reply, confused at the sudden shift in his demeanour. ‘For you being forced to dance with me.’
He didn’t say anything at first; then he bent his head and she felt the brush of his face against her hair. All her senses seemed to be standing rigid to attention.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said huskily. ‘After all, it’s only a dance.’
This was the man who thought she was a conniving gold-digger—the man who had blatantly told her he was suspicious of her motives. But he was also the man holding her now, making her feel more of a woman than she had ever felt in her life. Everything about him forced her senses into overdrive: the exotic heady scent of him, the expensive cut of his suit beneath her fingers, the quiet strength of the arms holding her, the scratch of his cheek against hers. She gave up fighting it then. Nestling against his chest, she swayed slowly against him, relaxed under his skilful touch. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply, every sense in her body attuned to the perfection of the moment.
It wasn’t only a dance.
To describe it as such was a travesty.
CHAPTER THREE
‘LET’S get you upstairs.’ Aiden was slumped over the table but still managing to cling on to his half-empty glass. Shaking him on the shoulder, Tabitha whispered loudly in his ear. ‘Come on, Aiden. People are starting to look—you really ought to be in bed.’
‘Having trouble?’ She could hear the derisive tone in Zavier’s voice as he took in the situation.
‘We’re fine,’ Tabitha said through gritted teeth, unable to meet his eyes after the dance they had shared, confused at the response he had so easily evoked in her and determined not to let him see.
‘You don’t look it,’ he said knowingly.
‘Well, we are. Aiden and I are just about to head off upstairs to bed.’
‘Have you already called for a forklift or did you want me to ring for you?’ His biting sarcasm only inflamed her taut nerves.
‘He’s just tired.’ Tabitha said defensively, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all Zavier.
‘Ah, that’s right; he’s had a busy week at the studio. And there I was assuming that, as per usual, Aiden’s the worse for wear. God, I’m such a cynic sometimes.’
People were really staring now; she could see Jeremy Chambers starting to make his way across the room, a questioning look on his face. A drunken showdown with his father was the last thing Aiden needed—her too, come to that.
Swallowing her pride, Tabitha bit back a smart reply. Jeremy was nearly upon them now, and she had no choice but to accept Zavier’s help if she wanted to avoid a scene.
‘I could use a hand,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘A “please” would be nice.’
She wasn’t that desperate! ‘Look, are you going to help or not?’
He smiled then—a real smile, that for a fleeting moment lit up his face. ‘Okay, come on, let’s get him upstairs.’
Which was easier said than done. They managed to get him out of the function room in a reasonably dignified fashion, but once they got to the lift Aiden slumped on his brother and proceeded to snore loudly.
Tabitha willed the lift to move faster; Zavier’s close proximity in this confined space was not having the most calming effect on her. Still, it was just as well Zavier was there, Tabitha conceded, or she’d never have managed otherwise.
Aiden steadfastly refused to wake up, let alone walk, and in the end Zavier had to resort to giving him a fireman’s lift—something he managed amazingly well, considering Aiden stood well over six feet. Tabitha retrieved the swipe card from Aiden’s top pocket, holding the door open as Zavier made his way in and deposited his younger brother unceremoniously on the bed.
‘Be sure to tell him how badly he behaved in the morning.’
‘Oh, I’ll tell him all right,’ Tabitha said, her annoyance with Aiden apparent in her voice. ‘And thanks for all your help getting him upstairs,’ she added grudgingly.
‘Don’t mention it. I’m just glad he had the foresight to book a room here or we’d be stuck in the back of a taxi now. As you probably gathered, it’s not the first time I’ve had to come to my hapless brother’s rescue. I’m sure it won’t be the last.’ He stared at her then, openly stared, until Tabitha was blushing to the tips of her painted toenails. ‘I would have thought he’d have toned things down a bit by now, though—the love of a good woman and all that.’
‘But I’m not good…’ The words slipped seductively from her mouth before she could stop them, and she saw the start in his eyes at her provocative statement. Stunned, confused at her own behaviour, Tabitha attempted to retrieve herself. ‘I mean from what you said to me at the reception…’
‘Oh, I’m sure you have your good points.’
Despite the fact they were occupying