But tonight would not be like that. Tonight would be formal and restrained, and Summer would be the one who did not belong. She would have to make conversation about subjects that bored her—politics, the economy, artsy movies with subtitles—and she would have to make explanations about her limp. It always happened in encounters with strangers. Some well-meaning soul would assume she’d recently injured herself and would inquire solicitously about her, and she would have to explain that the limp was a permanent part of her. Then she would have to see their pity as they told her how sorry they were. God, she hated pity. At her parties she could make jokes about her limp, laugh off her motorcycle-riding days, and everyone would laugh with her. She had a feeling her usual flip responses would be inappropriate tonight.
She took a rather desperate gulp of the champagne that Derek had procured for her—and she didn’t even like champagne. She started to ask if he had any rum punch, then decided against it.
“What’s wrong, Summer?” Derek asked perceptively, watching her grimace at the taste of the expensive champagne.
“Nothing,” she assured him, not quite meeting his eyes.
“You’re not nervous about tonight, are you?”
“Now why would I be nervous?” she bluffed.
“Some people would be a little intimidated before a gathering of people who are all strangers.”
“I don’t know about Summer, but I’m scared spitless,” Connie threw in, draining her own champagne. “You usually couldn’t drag me to one of these affairs. Hope I don’t embarrass you tonight, Derek.”
“You won’t,” he answered assuredly. “Have I remembered to tell you how much I appreciate your doing this for me, Connie? Parties seem to go much more smoothly when there is a hostess as well as a host, don’t you think? The caterers will take care of everything, for the most part. All I want you to do is mingle and keep the conversation going, and keep an eye on the caterers to make sure the trays of canapés and drinks don’t get empty. Easy, right?”
“Piece of cake,” Connie answered glibly. When Derek turned away, she mouthed in Summer’s direction, “Help!”
Summer laughed, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She recklessly swallowed the rest of her champagne, deciding that false courage was better than no courage at all.
6
THE FIRST GUESTS ARRIVED soon. Derek introduced Connie and Summer as his sister and “a very close friend.” Almost from the beginning Connie and Summer seemed to take on the role of co-hostesses, both of them mingling easily with Derek’s guests—more easily than Summer would have imagined earlier—and keeping a close watch on the tables. Soft music played in the background, serving as no deterrent to the subdued conversations and restrained laughter. A far cry from the party that the two spirited young women had hosted the week earlier.
Though it wasn’t quite as bad as Summer had feared, she still found herself getting bored when the party was only some forty minutes along. Everything was so… so predictable. Everything except Derek. He was driving her slightly crazy.
Derek practically glued himself to Summer’s side from the moment the party had begun. He included her in his conversations, frequently asked her opinion about various topics of interest and had his arm around her waist as often as not. Summer was irritably aware of the assumption being made by Derek’s guests. One woman even asked how long Summer and Derek had been dating and remarked that they made a lovely couple. At first, Summer had resisted his annoying little game by trying to excuse herself whenever he approached or subtly trying to slip away from that distressingly exciting arm around her waist. But since resistance only seemed to make Derek more determined to pursue her, she soon stopped trying and willed herself to relax against him. Only Derek could have known that the sweet smiles she gave him were delivered with silent promises of retribution.
“God, I’m glad you’re here tonight, Summer,” Connie said with a sigh when they met in the kitchen for a quiet moment an hour after the party had begun. “I’d be going crazy if it weren’t for you. This is definitely not my kind of party.”
“I know,” Summer commiserated. “But you’re doing fine, Connie. I’m sure Derek’s proud of you. Anyone who didn’t know you would probably think you were a real, proper lady.”
Connie snickered. “Then I’d better continue to resist the urge to turn the stereo to a loud heavy-metal station or dance on Derek’s expensive coffee table. Too bad Clay’s not here to liven things up, isn’t it?”
Grinning, Summer nodded. “Hang in there, kid. You’ll get through it. By the way, I noticed that you were fast making friends with a very attractive man with gorgeous black hair and a sexy mustache. The one in the gray suit that cost more than our combined paychecks for the past two weeks.”
A mischievous smile playing at the corners of her plum-glossed mouth, Connie winked at her best friend. “Nice, isn’t he? His name is Joel Tanner, and he’s going to be quite wealthy, thanks to my brother. He was one of Derek’s first clients.”
“Married? Engaged? Gay?”
“None of the above. Those were the first three questions I asked him. I think I’ll go ask him some more. Ta, darling.”
An hour later they met again, this time in the rest room, where they collapsed against a marble-topped vanity table as spasms of pent-up giggles erupted from them like steam from a pressure cooker.
“Summer, I can’t stand it!” Connie wailed. “I swear, if this party doesn’t end soon, I’m going to scream, just to see if anyone is ill-bred enough to notice. Or maybe I’ll just jump Joel’s bones right there in the middle of the room. I am so totally bored.”
“I thought you were going to blow it for sure when you asked that fat, stuffy banker if he’d ever considered piercing his ears and then told him he had lovely lobes,” Summer commented with another giggle. “Oh; the look he gave you.”
“It was nothing compared to the look my brother gave me.” Connie sighed. “But I just couldn’t resist. Those are absolutely the god-awfullest earlobes I ever saw. Isn’t it awesome the way they wiggle back and forth when he talks? I just couldn’t tear my eyes away from them.”
“And I thought it was Joel you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.”
Connie smacked her lips expressively. “The longer this ordeal goes on, the better he looks. He asked if he could take me home when this slumber party is over. You won’t mind taking a cab home alone, will you, Summer?”
“Of course not. How could I deny you your fun after you’ve worked so hard to please your brother?”
Connie crossed her arms in front of her and lifted a delicately arched brow at her shorter friend. “Speaking of my brother, what’s with him tonight? He’s placed himself constantly at your side, and when he’s not with you, he’s watching you from across the room.” “Tell me about it,” Summer replied glumly. “I’m sure everyone here has noticed.”
“What do you think it means?”
“Revenge, Connie. He’s still getting back at me for daring to laugh at the great, perfect Derek Anderson. He’s hoping he’ll make me nervous enough that I’ll do something stupid.”
“Are you nervous? Nobody’d ever know to look at you.”
“I just hope Derek doesn’t know. He’d love it. Your brother has a weird sense of humor, Connie.”
“You’re telling me?” Connie chuckled.
Summer sighed and checked her appearance one more time before saying, “We have to get back to the party.”
Connie groaned but obediently followed her friend from the dressing room.
“Where’ve you been, Summer-love?” Derek asked softly from close to Summer’s ear, only minutes after she’d rejoined the party. “I missed you.”
Summer shot a glare over her shoulder at his smugly bland face. “It’s not going to work, Derek,” she told him quietly.
“What’s not going to work?” His tone was interested.
“I’m not going to lose my cool with you tonight. I know you’re trying to punish me
for daring to attempt to teach you a lesson about your sister, but I’m on to you now and you can just forget it. It won’t work.”
“I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”
“Yes, you do!” she argued heatedly, forgetting to hold her social smile. “The way you’ve been hovering over me tonight and watching me and calling me, uh…”
“Summer-love?” he supplied helpfully.
She grimaced. “Yes. You might as well stop it now, Derek. You’ve had your fun.”
“Excuse me, darling, one of my guests looks like he’s leaving, and I’d like to have a word with him first. I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”
Before Summer could make any sort of reply, Derek brushed her mouth lightly with his and walked away, leaving her staring openmouthed and fuming at his retreating back. Damn the man, didn’t he know when to call it quits? she asked herself in a near rage. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her? Her nerves were so tight that, like overwound springs, they were in danger of snapping. She was almost quivering with a mixture of anger, chagrin and raw sexual excitement. She wondered almost desperately how the evening would end. Even as she glowered at the hard, lean man in the deceptively innocuous suit as he bent attentively over a bearded older man, she was admiring the breadth of Derek’s shoulders and feeling again those powerful arms around her slender waist.
Had he really called her darling?
CONNIE MANAGED to remain at the party until most of the guests had departed, at which time she located her brother and explained that she was leaving with Joel Tanner, if Derek had no objections.
Derek did not look particularly pleased, but he merely thanked his sister for doing an excellent job as his hostess and told her that he would make sure Summer got home safely.
“It’s really not necessary for you to take me home, Derek,” Summer assured him when Connie and Joel had departed along with the final guests. “I can call a cab. I do it all the time.”
“I’m taking you home tonight, Summer, and that’s final.” Derek had forgotten to use the velvety tone he’d affected throughout the evening when he’d spoken to Summer, and the words came out typically arrogant.
Summer smiled, much more comfortable now that the real Derek was showing through the facade he’d assumed for her benefit. “How can I resist when you ask so sweetly, Derek?” she murmured tauntingly.
His eyes narrowed as he realized that he’d been provoked once again into the high-handed behavior that Summer so enjoyed mocking. Ignoring the caterers, who were discreetly and efficiently clearing away all signs of the party, Derek stepped closer to Summer and slipped his arms around her waist, locking his hands behind her back. “Were you and my sister laughing at me and my guests when the two of you slipped off together so often tonight?”
She’d learned that protests had no effect on his behavior, so Summer made no comment at his familiarity, though her pulse leaped exasperatingly at his touch. Again her senses were vibrating, thrumming with excitement and a primitive form of fear. Silently ordering her traitorous body to behave itself, she reminded herself sternly that she had no business wanting this man. “It was a very nice party, Derek,” she answered courteously, her face suspiciously bland. “Exactly the type of party I expected you to host.”
“Meaning dull,” he translated, though he did not seem particularly offended.
“I didn’t say that,” she pointed out, concentrating on their conversation in an effort to ignore the breadth of his chest so close to her tightening breasts. There seemed to be a Ping-Pong game going on inside her own chest, which was making it difficult to breathe naturally.
“Perhaps I should have arranged for dancing,” he mused, his hands beginning to stroke Summer’s back almost absently.
All too aware of the lazy movements of those hands, Summer pretended to give his comment serious thought. “It might have been nice,” she agreed finally.
“It’s not entirely too late,” Derek informed her, drawing her even closer to him. “The music is still playing, and you and I are still here.”
“But I don’t dance,” she reminded him in a voice that was too breathless for her own comfort.
“You can dance with me,” he replied imperturbably. “Put your arms around me, Summer.”
“No, Derek.”
Please.”
She sighed in frustration. “What is this, another way to show me up? You know I—”
A smothering kiss cut the words off neatly. “I just remembered what it takes to shut you up,” Derek growled when he lifted his head. “Now put your arms around me, Summer.”
She did. When Derek began to move very slowly to the easy music, she moved stiffly with him at first. Then she began to relax as she realized his feet were barely moving and his strong arms were supporting her so that she was able to dance lightly on the toes of her right foot to balance her more fully extended left leg. Before long her arms were around his neck, her cheek against his shoulder, her eyes closed as she gave herself up to the joy of dancing for the first time in five long years. Derek’s hands moved lower on her back to hold her in intimate contact as his cheek nestled against her silky amber-brown hair. Neither of them noticed when the sprig of baby’s breath fell to the floor.
“This is nice,” he murmured after a while.
“Yes,” she whispered in reply. “It is.”
“You really haven’t danced since your accident?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I was afraid to try,” she admitted, then opened her eyes in surprise at her own words. What was she saying? Summer Reed never confessed to such weaknesses.
“Afraid of what, Summer?”
“Oh, nothing. Forget I said it.”
His arms tightened around her. “Talk to me, Summer. What were you afraid of?”
She sighed. It was hard to concentrate when she was being held so closely to his powerful body, moving slowly to the strains of romantic music. It seemed easier to just answer honestly than to try to shrug off the subject with a wisecrack as she would have done with anyone else. “I was afraid of falling or looking awkward or otherwise making a fool of myself. And I miss the kind of dancing that I used to do, the tap and jazz that I studied for so long. I didn’t think that slow social dancing would compare very well.”
“Do you find this dance boring?”
Brilliant blue eyes smiled up at him through thick, half-lowered lashes. “No, Derek. I’m not bored.”
“Good.” He pulled her even closer and dropped his cheek to hers. The first song ended and another began, and still they swayed silently in the center of the living room, the glass wall behind them reflecting their images against the diamond-studded darkness outside their softly lighted private world. When the second song came to an end, Summer lifted her face to speak to him, only to forget what she’d meant to say when he took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her long and deeply.
“Derek,” she breathed when she could speak. And then fell silent as words eluded her. Pressed as they were from chest to knee, she was vividly aware of the arousal that had been growing in him since that first dance, and he had to be aware of her own physical response as her swollen, hard-tipped breasts were flattened against him. Blue silk and delicate lace could not conceal that she was stimulated by his nearness, as he was by hers. “Oh, Derek.” She sighed and tightened her arms around his neck to pull his head back down to hers. “Kiss me again.”
“Summer,” he whispered against her lips just before his mouth opened to cover hers completely. He kissed her as if he would devour her, as if he would learn all her secrets with only this all-consuming embrace, and Summer opened herself to him, holding nothing back from him.
There was no longer any pretense of dancing. Derek kissed her, drew back only to tilt his head to a new angle and kissed her again. Summer returned kiss for kiss, the need for oxygen a secondary consideration to her need for Derek.
Derek’s hand moved from the small
of her back to slide between them, stopping at the deeply draped bodice of her jumpsuit. His palm moved in a slow, circular rhythm over her hardened breasts, the silk fabric gliding sinuously beneath his hand. Summer gasped as her body arched instinctively toward him. His head lowered further to drop moist, hot kisses along the delicate curve of her throat.
“Oh, Derek,” she moaned, her eyes tightly closed. Nothing had ever felt so right, so natural, as his arms around her, his mouth against her skin. His hardness against her softness told her how much he wanted her, and she admitted to herself that she wanted him, too.
He kissed her deeply again as her control slipped even further. Derek loosened the front of her jumpsuit just as her back touched the sofa, and she realized hazily that he had moved her to the sofa as easily as he had guided her in their dance. His breath was ragged, as was hers, clearly audible over the soft music still pouring from the hidden speakers. She could feel his breath on her skin, hot and moist, when he pressed his lips to the upper swell of one breast.
Growing impatient, she lifted herself toward him and clutched the sides of his head, needing to feel his mouth upon her. She cried out when he obliged her by taking one pointed crest between his lips.
“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his tongue teasing the sensitized tip he’d captured.
Summer shuddered, feeling as if there were a fire blazing between her legs. She’d never known desire so intense, need so desperate. She plucked ineffectively at his clothing, wanting to feel those sleek shoulders beneath her palms.
Their caresses escalated until they were almost out of control. With a gasp Derek tore his mouth from her heated skin. His chest heaving, he stared at her, and Summer wondered through her mist of passion when he’d removed his glasses. “I want you, Summer,” she heard him mutter through the thick fog that seemed to surround her. “I’ve never wanted any woman this much.”
Hero in Disguise Page 8
