The Wedding Secret. Michele Dunaway
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you believe in wedding magic?” Cecile asked.
He frowned slightly. “Define what you mean.”
She tapped the glass with her forefinger. “The feeling that there’s something in the air at weddings. Something that makes people do things they shouldn’t.”
“I know what you’re talking about,” Luke said.
“So was that why you were hitting on me?”
Luke had chosen water, as well, and he sputtered slightly as a sip went astray. “No. I hit on you because you’re a very beautiful, desirable woman. Surely you know that.”
“You didn’t just want to pick me up, have some fun, enjoy a quick roll in the hay?” she pressed.
“I’m not afraid of going home alone at the end of the night,” Luke said. “I wasn’t staking out the hotel lobby.”
“No?” Cecile’s body reacted to his honesty. She’d come willingly to his house, but she’d had to question him to be positive she was about to make the right choice. For some reason, it was important she not be a notch on his belt, important that, had she turned him down, he wouldn’t have just turned elsewhere.
“No,” Luke said. “From the first moment I saw you I wasn’t settling for anything less. Why else would I leave after you did?”
“I have to admit, you’ve been tempting me all night,” she heard herself say. If he was turned on, so was she. Life had a way of putting her in situations like this, making her realize that leopards couldn’t change their spots. And with a man like Luke Shaw, who wanted to change in the first place?
“So what are you going to do?” Luke asked, his voice silky and seductive.
“I haven’t decided,” Cecile said, although in reality she had. She needed release and fulfillment. She was a woman with needs, and hers hadn’t been met in a while. She didn’t want Bob. She desired flesh and blood. She wanted to be driven over the edge and into the abyss. She wanted Luke.
And with that, all her resolutions to say no flew out the window. She’d start over tomorrow.
“Is there anything I can do to help you decide?” Luke asked. He’d moved toward her, almost as close as he’d been during that first slow dance.
She’d been seduced before but never like this. Luke was out of her league. Her body already hummed, and she was damp. “You don’t make anything easy, do you?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Never,” Luke said. He reached out and ran a finger down her bare arm. She shivered but not from cold. “I get what I want, Cecile. Always have, always will.”
“And what do you want?” Cecile said, her breath lodging in her throat as she waited for his reply.
“I want you,” Luke said, his tone forceful and determined. A thrill shot though her. “And I definitely want this.”
With that, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.
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