by Tina Beckett
Some of their party had broken off into pairs and were already out on the dance floor—he squinted again—if that could be called dancing. The body parts moved, but they were disjointed…staccato. Although maybe that had to do with the lights blinking on and off.
Darcie put her straw to her mouth and took a sip of her drink then stirred the concoction while glancing around at the nightclub. The Night Owl was living up to its name, although it seemed a little early for the die-hard crowd. How much more packed could the place get?
“Are these kinds of things big in Australia?” she shouted.
This was ridiculous. They were both going to be hoarse by the time they got to work tomorrow if they kept this up. He drew her closer and leaned down to her ear. “I’m not a big nightclub person.”
She tilted back to look at him then moved back in. “You bungee jump, but you don’t go out drinking with the guys?”
Her warm breath washed across his ear, carrying the scent of her drink. Strawberries. Or mangoes. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t going to be the disaster he was imagining because he liked having her close like this.
The guy from the seat next to him had evidently struck out with woman number two, because he was back. Bodily inserting himself between the two of them and turning his back to Lucas.
“Dance?”
He couldn’t blame the guy. Darcie was beautiful. But if anyone was going to dance with her, it was going to be him.
Standing, he poked the intruder in the shoulder to get his attention. The man—a body-builder type with bulges and lumps that bordered on unnatural—didn’t budge. So Lucas moved out and around until he was facing the competition.
Darcie was already shaking her head to the offer. Instead of taking the hint, the jerk held out his hand.
Lucas stared him straight in the eye. “She’s with me, mate. So try somewhere else.” Taking her hand, he said, “Come on, gorgeous. Bring your drink.”
She grabbed her glass and went along with him, throwing the other man an apologetic look. What the hell? Had she wanted to dance with him?
This time it was Lucas who hesitated. He stopped and glanced down at her.
“Here, try some,” she said, holding her beverage up to him. “It’s really good.”
As much as he did not want to try some girly-girl drink, he noted the creep from the bar was still glowering their way. Probably hoping to corner her alone. To send another message, he took the glass from her and sipped from the straw…and made a face. He couldn’t help it. That wasn’t a drink. That was some kind of smoothie or something. But the act of putting his mouth where her lips had been—where they had applied suction and…
He took another sip. A bigger one this time and let it wash down his throat. Not so bad the second time around.
Handing it back to her, he towed her further out onto the floor, where dark forms kicked and flapped and buckled, only to come up for more. It reminded him more of a fight scene from a movie than actual dancing.
Flashes of green from her eyes met his. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
There was something about the way she said it. As if she expected him to be upset. Hardly.
She couldn’t be any worse than what was going on around him. “Let’s pretend the music is slow and not worry about what everyone else is doing.” He’d had to swoop in again to be heard. “Can you dance with your glass in your hand?”
“No. Help me finish it.” She took another drink, the contents of the large goblet dropping a quarter of an inch, then held it out to him again.
He was going to pay for this later, when the memories came back to haunt him in his sleep. But he drank anyway. Relished the slight taste of her on the straw.
When the glass was empty he motioned for her to wait and then deposited it on the nearest table, ignoring the surprised looks from its occupants. Then he strode back to Darcie and took her right hand in his, his other arm settling across her hips and pulling her close. When his attention swept the bar for the man who’d hit on her, he didn’t see him. Good. Because tonight there would be no cutting in.
Darcie was all his. At least for a few hours.
If Cora didn’t call.
Closing his eyes and settling her against him, he allowed his senses to absorb the feel of her curves, the scent of her hair and the way it slid like fine silk beneath his chin.
He tuned out the music…and tuned in Darcie instead. Only then did he allow his feet to sway, taking quarter-inch steps and allowing his inner rhythm to take over. Her arm crept up, her hand splaying across the skin on the back of his neck, fingers pushing into the hair at his nape.
Decadent.
Isla was right. There were some things that just shouldn’t be missed. And dancing with Darcie was one of them.
She shifted against him with a sigh. “This is much better than what they’re doing.”
“Who?” His eyes cracked open, letting the chaotic scene back into his head.
“Everyone. I don’t normally like to dance. But this feels okay.”
“Yes, it does.”
The song ended and the room paused for three or four seconds, while Lucas cursed silently. Then, as if the universe had read his mind, another song came on. This was slow and soothing and not quite as loud. The atmosphere shifted. The strobe went off in favor of dim, steady lighting.
Arms twined together and single dancers edged off the floor to let the couples have a turn.
“Is this better?” he murmured into her ear.
“Mmm, yes.”
Lucas’s hand tightened on her back, thumb skimming up her spine and drawing his palm along with it until it was between her shoulder blades, before gliding back down to her waist.
Hell, this was nice. Maybe a little too nice.
Darcie must have sensed it too because the fingertips that were against the lower part of his scalp brushed back and forth, sending a frisson of raw sensation arrowing down to his groin.
He willed away the rush of need that followed, trying to think about anything else but the pulsing that was beginning to make itself known in not-so-subtle ways.
Football. Kayaking. Hiking.
He dragged various activities through his head and forced his brain to come up with five important items about each one, before moving on to the next. Anything to keep from having to step back a pace or two in order to hide her effect on him.
Because he didn’t want to go. Not until this song was over and done. And maybe not even then.
There. Things were subsiding. Slowly. But as long as she didn’t…
Her fingertips dragged downward, emerging from his hair and sliding sideways across the bare skin of his neck.
“Darce, are you trying to make me crazy?” Because if he didn’t say something, she was going to end up with one hell of a surprise.
Her cheek moved away from his chest and she glanced up at him. “I wasn’t trying to. Why, am I succeeding?”
Something about the way she’d said that. As if surprised. Or curious. Or a whole lot of things. None of them good because it just stirred him to say more stupid things. They’d all agreed to leave separately, so they could each decide when they’d had enough. But no way was he letting Darcie leave there on her own.
“Yes.” He let that one word speak for him, because it was true.
“So I can cross this off my list, right?”
“Driving me crazy?”
“No.” She gave a soft laugh. “I was talking about coming to a nightclub.”
His brows went up, and he realized without that godawful strobe light he could finally see her without the additional shock on his senses. Being this close to her was as heady as laying her down on the sand at the beach had been. “I thought you might be angling to finally cross something else off your list.”
Her tongue came out, moistening that full lower lip. “What’s that?”
She was going to make him say it, wasn’t she? “Kissing an Aussie.”
“But I thought you
said that had to be behind closed doors in order to count.” The breathiness of her response made him smile.
“It does. But that can be arranged.”
Her fingers at the back of his neck tightened, and her eyes closed for a second.
Was she going to turn him down? His body started to groan and swear at him for screwing this up. Maybe he should limit it to just the kiss. But, hell, he didn’t want just a kiss. He wanted to carry her down some dark hallway and toss her on a bed…expose every luscious inch of her. And then kiss her.
When her eyelids parted again she gave a nod. “Then yes. But only if it’s a wild and outrageous kiss.”
He couldn’t resist. He leaned down and nipped the jawline next to her ear. “Trust me. I can make that happen.”
The song ended, and Lucas realized he and Darcie were no longer dancing. In fact, they were just standing there in each other’s arms, staring at each other.
“Let’s go back to Isla’s flat.”
“What?” He pulled back, thinking he’d surely misunderstood. He wanted to be alone with her, not visit Isla and Alessandro.
She laughed, unwinding her arm from around his neck and grabbing his hand as she made her way off the dance floor. “I mean the Delamere flat, where I’m staying. Alone.”
That was more like it. Besides, that end of town was closer than his own place. And his barely furnished flat left little to be desired as far as what she was probably used to. “That sounds like a plan. Lead on.”
* * *
Darcie was somehow able to find her keys in the tiny glittery purse that she’d slung over her shoulder as they’d left the Night Owl and arrived at the large opulent building Charles Delamere owned. She punched the code into the box by the front door and heard the click as it unlocked. She’d seen it so many times the place didn’t even register any more, but with Lucas standing there behind her she suddenly felt self-conscious as they made their way across the marble foyer.
“You’ve been here before, right?” She didn’t want him to get the idea that she was rich or anything. But she’d never thought anything less of Isla for living here, so why would she think Lucas was any different?
Maybe because it mattered what he thought, and she wasn’t quite sure why.
“I have. Isla liked to entertain, so I’ve been here several times.”
Entertain. As in a group? Or just Lucas? “Oh, um…”
“We were never involved,” he murmured, as if sensing her thoughts.
“Oh, I didn’t think—”
“Didn’t you? You thought I might be involved with a whole horde of females at one time.”
She had. And when had she moved so far away from that initial opinion she’d held of him? Maybe when she’d met Cora and seen how much he cared about his niece. And maybe—when she put all those phone calls into context—they’d become sweet. Whatever it was, she no longer believed many of the things she’d once thought.
“People change,” she murmured.
His hand tightened on hers for a second and his footsteps faltered.
Had she said something wrong?
“Yes, they do.”
They stopped in front of the lift and Darcie punched the button to call it. Lucas leaned a shoulder against the wall next to her and studied her face, a slight frown between his brows. Right on cue, heat surged into her cheeks.
His mood seemed to clear and he smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman blush as much as you do.”
“I can’t help it. It’s just the way I’m made.”
His eyes skimmed down the rest of her, pausing at the neckline of Isla’s slinky dress. “I’m kind of partial to the way you’re made.”
Her face grew even hotter and he chuckled. Then the lift arrived, saving her from having to respond to his comment.
They both got on, and Darcie nodded at the camera tucked into the corner of the lift, hoping he’d understand her meaning.
He did, because he leaned down, his warm breath washing over her cheek. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I don’t want an audience this time. Although later…”
When her eyes widened, his hand went to her lower back, fingertips skimming up her spine until he reached her nape. One finger made tiny circles there beneath the curtain of her hair. Pure need spiraled through her as he added a second finger, the pair trailing down and around the back of her dress, which was scooped like the front of it was. To the camera, it would appear as if they were both just standing quietly, but inside her chest her heart was jumping and things were heating up.
A fine layer of perspiration broke out on her upper lip as she struggled not to close her eyes or utter the soft sounds that were bubbling up in her throat. Was there a microphone connected to that camera?
Up, up they went, racing toward the penthouse while Darcie’s legs turned to jelly, and the need to touch him back began growing in her chest. In her belly. In her hands.
She curled her fingers into her palms to keep them from reaching for him.
“Do you like that?” he whispered.
Was he joking? Couldn’t he tell? She glanced at their reflection in the mirror across from them and noted her nipples were puckered, showing even through the fabric of her strapless bra and her dress, although both were thin.
Ping.
The lift slowed, and Lucas stopped stroking her neck, his warm hand wrapping around her nape instead. When the doors opened, she practically fell out onto the dark glossy floor of the entrance to the flat. Hands shaking, she tried to hit the lock with her key and missed the first time, only to have Lucas’s fingers cover hers and guide them to the keyhole, unlocking and opening the door in one smooth movement.
They went inside. “D-do you want a tour?”
“Mmm…yes, but not of the flat.” He took the keys from her hand and the purse from her shoulder and put them both on the slate surface of the entry table.
Her teeth dug into her lower lip as Lucas came back and put his hands on her shoulders, thumbs edging just beneath the fabric covering them. This was a man who bungee-jumped and practically made love to her on an open beach. Who teased and tormented her senses on the dance floor and again in the lift. He didn’t want a feeble tour or a half-hearted response from whatever woman he was with.
Robert’s face as Tabitha had thrown herself into his arms was branded in her mind. That was what her ex-fiancé had wanted. Not a mild-mannered woman who was far too “safe.”
Was Lucas going to find her wanting as well? Would he regret having put all this effort into getting her into bed?
That brought up another question. Was that why he’d done everything he had…the trip to the beach, the list, the nightclub? To sleep with her? Her insecurities grew.
She had no illusions that this was anything but a one-night stand. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want anything more than that either. But maybe she should make it clear that she probably wasn’t as wildly experienced as some of the women he’d been with.
“I—I’m not…” She licked her lips as Lucas went still. “I’m probably not very good at…” Her voice died away a second time, so she had to use her hand to made swirly motions in the air and hope he got the gist of her meaning.
He tightened his grip on her shoulders slightly. “Please, tell me you’re not a virgin.”
“No!” The denial came out as a squeak, so she cleared her throat. “My fiancé just found me a bit…dull in that respect.”
Lucas didn’t move for several seconds, but a muscle pulsing in his cheek made her squirm. Was he wondering how to get out of the flat without hurting her feelings?
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” There. She’d given him a way to escape.
He shook his head. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, unless you decide to throw me out.” He then gave a smile that could only be described as rueful. “My experience with you has been anything but dull.”
She remembered his curse when he’d seen her name on that rotati
on list. Actually, she had been more outspoken with him than she was with most people. But only because he’d irritated her with his attitude and his tardiness. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t dull at work. But here? “I’m not very adventurous.”
He leaned down and gave her a slow kiss. One that started off soft and easy and gradually built…his hand sliding into her hair and gathering the strands in his fist. When he pulled back again she was breathless and right back to where she’d been in the lift—melting with desire and wanting nothing more than for him to drag her down those three steps to the living area and take her right there on the couch.
“Then you won’t mind if I’m adventurous enough for both of us.”
The pressure of being someone she wasn’t lifted. She could do that. She could let Lucas call the shots and introduce her to things she’d never tried before—just like he had standing on that high tower, and again after she’d landed in the pool.
This man lit her senses up like no one ever had. “No. I won’t mind.”
“Well, then.” He began bunching her dress in his fists, gathering more and more material in them until the hemline was at the very tops of her thighs. “We won’t need this.” Up and over her head went the dress, which had no zipper, the stretchy material allowing him to strip it off her body with ease. He turned and carried the garment across the space, going lightly down the steps and placing it over one of the leather chairs in the living room.
When she started to follow him, he held up his hand to signal her to wait. He slowly made his way back up, his eyes on her the whole time. “You’re beautiful, Darce. I don’t know what your ex told you, but ‘dull’ is not a word I would ever use to describe you.”
He reached for her hands as a warm flush crept up her body. It only increased when he carried her hands behind her back and moved in to kiss her again. This one slow and lingering, his lips brushing across hers, the friction driving her crazy. “Where’s your bedroom, sweetheart?”
