One Night of Passion. Kate Hardy
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the waltz died away and the orchestra segued into something louder, faster and with a pounding of drums, which matched the thrum of his blood coursing through his veins.
“Well,” Edie said, abruptly drawing back and pulling her hand out of his. “That was nice.”
Nice? Nick stared at her, jolted.
She nodded, dimpling as she smiled. “Very nice. Thank you for the dance.” There was something almost impishly polite in her tone, as if she knew the effect she was having on him—and wasn’t going to even give him a chance to try his moves.
But Nick wasn’t going to give up without an effort.
“I can do better than nice,” he promised, holding out his hand, silently urging her to take it, to come with him.
Resolutely Edie shook her head. “Thank you, but no. And it isn’t impolite to refuse a second dance,” she informed him before he could claim otherwise.
“How about a glass of wine? We can sit this one out.”
But again she shook her head. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Savas. Thank you for being kind to my sister. And thank you for the dance. I … enjoyed it.”
Had he heard an infinitesimal hesitation in her words? Before Nick could decide, Edie held out her hand and shook his politely. “Good night.”
No!
He didn’t say it. Blessedly his mouth stayed firmly shut. But a thousand things ran through his mind that he might say to stop her, to prolong the moment, to keep her there.
That he wanted to so badly surprised him. He wasn’t used to feeling any such compulsion. Didn’t want to feel it.
Bedding her, yes, he’d like to do that. But just keep her there to talk to him? There was no point.
So he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets and nodded.
“Good night, Ms. Daley,” he said equally politely. “Thank you for the dance.”
She turned away. But as she did so, he couldn’t resist. “If you ever do want to see the architectural renovations in my bedroom, Ms. Daley …”
She spun back, her eyes flashing green fire.
Nick’s heart kicked over. He turned on his best millionmegawatt come-hither grin. Edie turned and, with a toss of her head, disappeared into the milling dancing crowd.
Only when the crowd had swallowed her up did he turn away. He felt oddly flat.
He should have gone back to his room then. It was nearly midnight. He’d done his duty. Showed up. Even danced. No one would remark on his vanishing now.
But he didn’t go. He prowled the edges of the dance floor, restless and out of sorts. Edgy. Hungry. And not for food. His body was still aware of how neatly Edie Daley had fit into his arms.
“Damn it.” Abruptly he turned and asked the nearest unattached female for a dance.
Why not? He’d danced once tonight already. It was just more of the same.
But it wasn’t the same. This woman was nothing like Edie Daley.
She didn’t settle into his arms with a reluctance that gave way to rightness. She plastered herself against him, locked her fingers together behind his neck and nibbled on his jaw. She didn’t so much dance as slither and move against him until at last the music ended and Nick was finally able to peel her off again.
“Another?” she murmured.
“No.” He’d had enough. More than. “I’m done dancing,” he said firmly, though years of having good manners drilled into him made him try to look regretful as he stepped away. “I’m calling it a night.”
Even as he did so, someone’s hand touched his arm from behind. “I’m glad to hear it,” an unexpected female voice said.
Nick spun around—and stared with shock into Edie Daley’s gray-green eyes. She linked her arm firmly through his and gave him a blinding smile. “Because I’ve just decided that I’d love to see those architectural renovations.”
NICK’S brows shot up. So did his heartbeat. And the spark of interest that had vanished when she had was back in spades.
But even as his libido was in favor of her suggestion, his brain was saying, Hang on a minute.
“Change your mind?” he asked her, careful not to sound too eager even though he damned well was.
Edie’s smile, if possible, grew brighter. “Yes.” Her voice was firm and clear. No hesitation at all. But he spotted a glitter in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before. And was that a bit of her sister’s desperation in her tone? He narrowed his gaze on her.
Her lashes flickered rapidly. Her smile amped up a bit more. Yes, this was desperation. And defiance, too. He could see that now. But exactly who or what had inspired it, he had no idea.
Carefully he let out a breath, drew another as he studied her from her flyaway hair to the tips of her stocking-clad toes. He wanted to take the stockings off those toes.
Would she let him?
Whatever was going on, taking her to his bedroom couldn’t be a bad thing. Could it?
Nick guessed he’d find out.
Putting his hand over hers, he smiled down at her. “By all means.” Then he turned to the blonde he’d danced with, the one who was still standing there and whom he’d completely forgotten about. “Thank you for the dance,” he said to her politely. “Good night.”
Then he laced Edie’s fingers through his and started to lead her back to where they’d first met.
“The door is that way.” Edie was practically dragging her feet.
“Shoes,” he said and dived beneath the table. The miserable things were still there. He grabbed them and rose again, then slanted Edie a glance.
“You don’t want to wear them, do you?”
She laughed, but it was a more brittle laugh than she’d shared with him before. Something had indeed happened. “I certainly don’t,” she said.
Nick tucked the shoes in his coat pockets so only the spiky mauve heels protruded. Then he offered her his arm. With no hesitation at all, Edie linked her arm through his and walked, head held high, along beside him, her bearing more regal than the queen of Mont Chamion.
Her posture was stiff and far more tense than when they’d danced, and she didn’t speak again. But Nick knew better than to ask about it now. Edie kept her gaze straight ahead until they had nearly reached the door.
Then, near the door they came upon Mona and the small but inevitable knot of men clustered around her. Edie barely glanced their way, but she turned her gaze on him, focused a melting smile right at him and fluttered her lashes.
Nick almost laughed. He did smile at raised brows on Mona’s face. There was a look of surprise and something else—consternation?—on Edie’s mother’s face. Whatever had sparked Edie’s return, it had something to do with her mother.
Or, Nick realized as Mona said something to the man standing next to her who was staring at Edie and frowning, did it have something to do with him?
He was about Nick’s age, fair-haired and handsome in a young Robert Redford sort of way. Familiar looking, but Nick couldn’t put a name on him.
An actor, no doubt. Actor friends of Demetrios’s were thick on the ground tonight.
This one transformed his frown into an engaging grin and stepped forward to intercept them as they approached. “Edie!