by Anna Sugden
“I like the idea of being caught between the moon and New York City.” Scotty pulled her gently into his arms.
Without saying anything, they slipped into the old-fashioned way of slow dancing. Her right hand clasped in his left. Her left on his shoulder, while his other hand rested against the small of her back. They started with a respectable gap between them, but the number of people made them draw closer together.
At least, that was her excuse.
Her thighs were pressed against his. Solid, hard muscle. Her breasts crushed against the broad wall of his chest. The heat of his body seared her, despite the barrier of their clothing.
He brought their joined hands in and rested them against his chest. She could feel his strong, steady heartbeat beneath his tuxedo jacket.
Her left hand slipped across his shoulder to his neck, delighting in the smooth skin and corded strength. The hand at her back began to caress her, slowly moving up and down her silk dress before edging toward her hip.
Their feet barely moved as they swayed to the music.
His cheek rested against her temple. His breath stirred her hair and whispered against the sensitive skin beneath her ear. If she turned her head slightly, her lips would be pressed against his jaw. If he turned his head slightly, his lips would be pressed against hers.
She wanted his kiss very much.
Slowly, tentatively, she started to move her head. At the same moment, he began to move his. Their mouths were so close. So tantalizingly close. One slight movement and they’d meet. She lifted her gaze to his.
Oh, those serious blue eyes. She could lose herself in them. They would be her downfall tonight. How could she resist him?
CHAPTER TWO
SCOTT WAS AS nervous as a geeky teenager dancing with the homecoming queen.
He hadn’t held a woman, other than his wife, in his arms for...hell...too many years to think about. For sure not since he was eighteen. Even before then, he’d been more interested in hockey than girls, so he was as green as a rookie when it came to women. What little he knew was as outmoded as a cassette tape in the world of music streaming.
Slow-dancing with the prettiest woman in the room... Staring into her clear blue eyes.
He angled himself slightly so that his groin wasn’t against her thighs, then shifted his hand on her back.
Even he could read the invitation in Sapphie’s expression. The way she moved their joined hands to link their fingers. How she tilted her head so her mouth was barely a breath away from his.
Sapphie wanted to kiss him.
He’d never wanted anything so much.
The thought startled him. His heart thudded against his ribs. It sounded like something his always-in-love, everything’s-a-drama daughter would say.
He was a grown man. He’d seen Sapphie a few times over the past year and each time he’d felt guilty about how he’d reacted to her. He’d put it down to his divorce, his retirement—anything but the fact that it was Sapphie herself who sent his pulse skyrocketing.
Kiss the woman already.
He lowered his head, brushing his mouth over her lips. Getting the sweetest taste.
A lightning bolt shot through his body, headed straight for his groin.
He wanted more. Much more.
Start me up.
The intro to a Rolling Stones song blasted him out of the sensuous moment. Scott jerked his head up. At the same time, he tightened his hold on Sapphie. Not wanting to let her go. But they couldn’t remain on the dance floor making a spectacle of themselves by continuing to slow dance while everyone around them bopped to Jagger.
He and Sapphie eased apart, but he didn’t let go of her hand. She tightened her grip. They headed toward the back of the ballroom, where they found an empty space near a table to stand.
“So...” Sapphie cleared her throat. “Probably not the best place for kissing.”
The tips of his ears grew hot.
“Uh, no.”
Sapphie looked him straight in the eye. “Do you want to find a place to continue this or get a drink?”
He knew what his answer should be. “I’m not thirsty.”
Sapphie’s smile lit up her face, making him feel like he’d scored the game-winner. Which, given he was a stay-at-home defenseman, would be as much of a miracle as this evening was turning out to be.
“There are gardens out back,” she suggested. “We could take a walk, get some fresh air.”
“Fresh air’s good.”
She tilted her head toward the door. “We can make a break for it before the song ends.”
Like naughty schoolchildren, they slipped past the caterers replenishing the buffet and paused in the foyer to adjust to the brighter light.
Scott half expected Sapphie to change her mind. What would a bright, bubbly and beautiful woman like her want with an out-of-work, out-of-place old guy like him?
Instead, she tugged on their joined hands, pulling him into a side corridor that ended at a glass fire door. He pushed open the door for her, then let it close behind them.
The night was surprisingly still, even though crickets and tree frogs chirped. The balmy air felt good after the chill inside. A rain shower earlier in the day had lowered the blazing late-summer temperatures and cleared some of Jersey’s notorious humidity.
Scott and Sapphie strolled along the brick path, their way lit by old-fashioned lanterns that cast pools of soft light at regular intervals. They crossed over a wooden bridge that spanned a shallow stream and continued toward a stone gazebo. Turning a corner, they took steps leading down to a jetty, which stretched out into the dark water of the lake.
Sapphie slipped off her shoes and held them by the heels. “Come on. Let’s dangle our feet in the water.”
She didn’t wait for his answer before dashing to the end of the jetty.
Scott followed, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm. “Wait. You’ll ruin your gown if you sit there.” He shrugged out of his tux jacket and spread it out on the planks. “Now you can sit, my lady.”
She grinned, clasping her hands to her chest. “My hero. Thank you, Sir Galahad. Or should that be Sir Walter Raleigh—protecting my silk dress from damage by laying down your coat?”
“Either way, you’re welcome. Can’t have you going into the ballroom with a dirty patch on your backside.”
Flirting wasn’t one of his skills, because he’d never needed to play those games.
Thankfully, Sapphie laughed at his inept response. “That would be hard to explain.” She dipped her bare feet into the water and wiggled her toes. “Oh, that feels good.”
Man, was he out of his depth when he was turned on by dainty feet and cute toes.
She patted the space beside her. “Won’t you join me? There’s enough room, so you won’t get mud on your great butt either.”
He sat beside her and was about to put his feet in the water when he realized he still wore his shoes. Hoping Sapphie hadn’t noticed, he removed them and his socks, then put them behind him on the jetty. He also remembered to roll up his pant legs.
“You’re right. That feels good,” he said.
They sat quietly, watching the play of moonlight on the rippling water. For a woman who exuded energy and life, she was surprisingly good at handling silence. She didn’t rush to fill it with chatter. The only movement was the swish of her feet making little whirlpools.
Scott managed not to jump when her hand slipped into his. Instead, he kept staring forward as he entwined their fingers, then rested their joined hands on his thigh. His thumb mimicked her feet, stroking her soft skin in circles. His pulse kicked when she copied his action, her thumb drawing circles on his knuckle.
He turned to look at her. Only to find her studying him.
The silence became
charged. Like the electricity in the air before a storm.
Sapphie gently touched his mouth with her finger. She lingered over his scar, making it tingle. “I know this doesn’t hurt anymore, but it makes me want to kiss your poor lip better.”
He almost couldn’t breathe. “Feel free,” he managed to say.
She didn’t need a second invitation. She kissed her fingertip and pressed it to his lip.
He tried not to be disappointed. He’d expected—
Her mouth replaced her fingertip. She brushed a soft kiss against his scar. So fleeting it was over almost before it started. Yet it sent fierce need pulsing through his body.
Her second kiss was firmer, lasting a fraction longer. Her third, longer still. Then her tongue traced his scar.
He hardened instantly, spurring him to action. Two could play this game.
He reached up and rubbed his thumb over her full lower lip. Back and forth, gently parting her lips.
She responded by nipping his thumb, then flicking her tongue against it. Her mouth curved into a teasing smile. A satisfied glint lit her eyes.
So she thought she was in control? That she had him where she wanted him.
Not quite.
He swept in and took advantage of her parted lips. No teasing or flirting. No hesitation or asking permission. His hand cupped the back of her head, anchoring her to him.
Her grip on his other hand tightened. Her free arm wound around his neck, pulling him closer. She met his desire and upped the intensity.
Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her against him. To touch her.
He released her hand and stroked her arm. Was her skin as soft everywhere? While he massaged her neck, he ran the fingers of his other hand over her bare shoulder and down her back, until they met silky fabric. He’d admired the strapless, knee-length sheath earlier—the way it emphasized her delicious curves and showed off her amazing legs. Now it was an unwelcome barrier.
Pulling his lips from hers, he kissed his way across her cheek to her ear. She inhaled sharply as he nipped at her earlobe. When his mouth trailed down her neck, she tilted her head to give him better access.
Sapphie sighed as he continued his journey across her shoulder, paying particular attention to the hollow of her collarbone. When he reached the curve of her shoulder, his mouth took a lower path, toward her breasts.
He licked a moist trail along the top of her dress, following the rise and fall of the blue fabric over the swell of one breast, into the valley between, then up over the other.
He nudged aside the silk and retraced his path.
He wanted more. He ran his hand along the back of her dress, searching for the zipper.
He tried again.
Where the hell was the damn thing?
Sapphie chuckled softly as she moved his hand to her right side. “Try here.”
Sapphie proved she wasn’t put off by his fumbling by loosening his tie, removing it and tossing it aside. Then she undid the top button of his shirt. And the next.
His fingers curved tightly against her side as she pressed a hot openmouthed kiss to the pulse at the base of his throat. Then went lower.
And lower. Unbutton, kiss. Unbutton, kiss.
He almost protested aloud when she halted with his shirt only halfway undone. Don’t stop now!
She didn’t. Scott couldn’t hold back his groan as she separated the two sides and licked across his right pec, circling his nipple, then returning to repeat on the other side.
This time, when she arrived at the center of his chest, she started to trail downward. His stomach clenched with anticipation.
Uh, no. If she continued along that route, he’d embarrass himself in the worst way possible.
“My turn.” He slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face to his.
Her sassy smile did crazy things to his insides. “Be my guest.”
He nibbled her bottom lip, then licked it, relishing the taste of her. Sweet yet spicy. Champagne and chocolate.
Scott took her mouth fully, then deepened the kiss. This time, his hand moved aside the fabric that did such a good job of covering the damn zipper and slowly pulled the tab down. Then he slipped his fingers inside.
And found nothing but soft, bare skin.
That made his task much simpler. No more barriers to exploring to his heart’s content. And he did.
First her back. Her skin was as smooth as the silk that had covered it. He trailed his fingertips lightly down the ridge of her spine.
He smiled as she arched her back, gasping slightly. So she was ticklish. Or very sensitive. Either way, he’d return shortly to investigate further. In the meantime, he wanted to move to other, uncharted territory.
His thumb slid under the front of her dress and traced the curve of her breast. First the underside, then up over the top. Then around the other way. When he tried to part the fabric, he noticed there was a hook at the top of the zipper, holding the bodice in place. He undid it and the front of the dress fell open.
Her breasts were as beautiful as the rest of her. Perfectly sized, perfectly shaped. A tan line from a bikini framed the creamy mounds, which were topped by taut, pink nipples. As tantalizing and mouthwatering as the most decadent dessert.
He dipped his head and circled one bud with his tongue.
The sound of laughter close by was like a plunge into an ice bath, shocking him out of the haze of desire.
Scott straightened. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t have put Sapphie in such a potentially embarrassing situation. It was his responsibility to protect her from such exposure.
“I’m sorry.” Carefully, he drew the dress back over her breasts, covering them. He tried to refasten the hook, but his fingers were too clumsy to manage the fiddly device.
Sapphie pushed his hands aside and neatly slotted the hook into its eye, then pulled up the zipper. The rasp of the slider against the teeth seemed harsh and discordant in the still night air. She then stood and wiggled, to rearrange the dress so that it fell properly into place.
Damn it if that wiggle didn’t turn him on. Made him want to mess her up again.
“No harm done.” Smoothing her tousled hair, she smiled.
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I guess we should head inside, to the party.” He looked at his shoes and socks. Probably ought to put them on.
Sapphie picked up his jacket and dusted off the back before handing it to him. “If you insist. Or we could continue what we were doing in a more private setting.”
Her steady gaze met his. “I have a room in the hotel. You’re welcome to join me there.”
* * *
OH MY GOD. Sapphie had asked Scotty Matthews to her room. She stifled a girlie squeal and tried to look like it was no big deal.
And it wasn’t really. He was just a guy. Okay, a gorgeous, sexy—if a little serious—and utterly tempting guy. The thought of loosening him up, making him lose control, sent a shiver of delight through her.
Over the years, she’d slept with richer and more famous men. She’d even had a memorable night with one of her teenage Hollywood crushes. Sadly, it was memorable for the wrong reasons—one of which was particularly small. Her choice of man didn’t depend on how famous he was, how much he had in his bank or whether he was on People magazine’s list of sexy people.
Being in charge of her life meant that she chose who, when and for how long.
Scotty filled the bill very nicely.
Sapphie didn’t want the night to end—and she would eliminate the possibility of another interruption. She wanted to investigate the unexpected fire that had erupted between them and see how hot it could burn. Given what he’d done to her with his kisses—holy moly, his mouth was lethal—she had no doubts they could shatter a thermome
ter. As for his touch, the man was as talented with his hands off the ice as he was on. Her skin still tingled from his caresses.
But still...this was Scotty Matthews.
She’d never been in such a dizzy whirl about a man.
Sapphie became uncomfortably aware of the silence. Scotty hadn’t responded to her offer. He hadn’t even blinked. The way he was looking at her made her nervous.
Had she misunderstood the signals? No. He wanted her. He’d been as turned on as she had. She’d felt his erection pressing against her. The slight tremble in his heated touch. Tasted the passion in his kiss.
Maybe a kiss was as far as he’d wanted to go. Was it too soon after his divorce?
“Won’t we be missed?” His gravelly words cut through the maelstrom of her thoughts.
“Possibly.” Her uncertainty made it sound like a question.
He cleared his throat. “You’re Issy’s bridesmaid.”
Did that mean he wanted to leave with her or not? His even tone gave her no clues.
If she were at work, she’d cut to the chase. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ll be honest—this is something different for me.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Being with someone new. Wanting to be with that person. I’m out of touch with dating etiquette, if I ever knew what it was. I married my high-school sweetheart.”
His apprehension touched her and calmed her jumbled thoughts. He was so strong and steady and solid she hadn’t appreciated that ending his longtime marriage would affect him at such a basic level. She was amazed he hadn’t turned tail and fled at her offer.
She zeroed in on the key phrase in his admission. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he did but didn’t know how to go about it.
“As I see it, we have several possible courses of action. One, we go back to the reception and wait for people to start leaving before disappearing upstairs. That way no one will notice our exit. Two—” she enumerated the options on her fingers “—we go inside, say our goodbyes and skip out. Three, we assume everyone has their mind on other things than what we’re up to and skip going back altogether.”
Scotty frowned, seeming to give it serious thought.
