by Lexy Timms
Chapter 11
Under his intense gaze, she felt her face flush. “Simon, people will see us if we dance.”
“They will.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and in their blue depths a heat smoldered.
Simon had always been a calm, cool, almost detached presence. But whenever he looked at her with that hungry longing, she worried that he would light something in her that only he could put out.
She had never reacted to another man the way she did to him. This night was fast spinning out of control. First Dannicka had tried to get under her skin, and then that song had started playing. Their song.
“We’re supposed to look like we’re just professionals. Coworkers,” she said.
“We are.”
Her heart started to pound. “Won’t this make it look like we’re something more?”
Releasing her hand, he said, “We don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. The song brings back memories. That’s all.”
Let it go. Don’t do this. “Wait,” she blurted out, her voice low and husky with a desire she couldn’t deny. “If we do this, maybe it will look like we’re comfortable enough with each other to dance. As friends.”
He took her hand again, sending a warm flood of heat through her body. With her stomach fluttering, she let him lead her to the dancefloor. Let him put his hands on her waist, his touch scorching through the thin fabric of her dress. Her hands slid up to wrap around his broad shoulders. With their bodies pressed up against each other she blushed again, now keenly aware of the hard, solid muscles beneath his clothes.
The couples dancing around them blurred, then faded away. All she could see was the blue of Simon’s eyes. Suddenly he was leading her around the dancefloor. It was like prom night all over again and being in his arms was like heaven.
“You’re not a bad dancer,” she said breathlessly.
“I’m a terrible dancer,” he said. “But I figure if I just meander around the room, I’ll make it look right. I did take a dance class in college. Coach wanted us to feel light on our feet. Not sure it actually helped my game.”
She laughed. “Well, you make it look good.”
“I hope the room agrees, because they’re all staring at us,” he said.
“They are?” Her eyes grew wide as she turned her head to glance around them. Heather’s eyes fell on Dannicka, who was glaring at them from across the room. The former cheerleader looked almost comical with her arms crossed and frown showing her age lines. Not as pretty as before.
Ordinarily Heather wouldn’t take pleasure in seeing someone get put in their place, but having Simon come to her rescue had been so satisfying. He had made her feel cherished and desired. If a woman had come on that blatantly to her ex-husband, Gary would have reveled it in. Rubbed it in her face and humiliated her. Simon wasn’t even her boyfriend and he had come to her rescue at great risk to himself and his company.
“Don’t look,” he ordered. “They’ll think we care what they think.”
“We do care what they think.”
He leaned closer and whispered, “They don’t need to know that.”
She shivered, the sound of his deep voice nearly unraveling her. It took every bit of strength in her not to tuck her head underneath his chin and give in to the moment. Instead, she focused her gaze on him again. “What if Dannicka tells everyone what you said? That we’re together?”
“I doubt anyone will believe one person’s gossip,” Simon said.
“Simon, we have to be careful,” she said.
“I can’t believe you remembered the song,” he said, changing the topic.
She blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in topic. “I can’t believe you remembered this song. I thought you hated music with lyrics.”
“I didn’t say I hated it,” he said, shaking his head. “I said it was a distraction.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how quickly you changed the subject,” she said.
“About being careful?” His grip around her waist tightened. “You know me. I’m always careful.”
The sensation of his big, strong hands on her was so delicious she was almost at a complete loss for words. Almost. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“You told Dannicka we were together,” she said. “How is that being careful?”
“I don’t want to spend the night talking about that irritating woman,” he muttered.
“Fine,” she said. “I can’t argue with you there. Let’s just remember why we’re here.”
His blue eyes pierced right through her, darkening with some inscrutable emotion. “I thought a dance would relax you. Are you at least having a good time?”
“At a high school reunion with everyone I went to school silently judging me?” She smiled ruefully. “Yes. As long as I have to suffer through this with you, I’m having a good time.”
He laughed. “I like your honesty.”
“I’m amazed you of all people would think a dance was relaxing,” she said.
“It’s better than having to talk to these people,” he said. “Besides, I like talking to you.”
“Simon, don’t you think you’re missing out on so much if I’m the only person you like talking to?”
He shook his head vigorously. “Nope.”
“Don’t you want more? A girlfriend or something?” she asked. “Don’t you want to settle down?”
“You’re the only person I like spending a lot of time with, so I’d say the odds of me settling down are slim,” he said.
She ignored the implication of his words. The weight of what he meant.
“You can’t be so fixated on our past that you don’t try to get to know people,” she insisted. “I mean, was prom night the last time you enjoyed yourself?”
“Possibly.” His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “I mean, it was my first time after all.”
“What?” Her feet froze a moment before she tried to keep up with his.
“Prom night.” He frowned. “We... uh... slept together. For the first time.”
“Yes, I know it was our first time, but are you seriously saying that,” she dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper, “that was the night you lost your virginity?” She searched her memories, trying to recall something about that night that hinted at Simon’s inexperience.
They had rented a limo and, somehow, he’d managed to get them a hotel room. It was crazy since they had been so young, but Simon had a little of his own money stashed by then. Money he’d made from coding websites for people.
He had brought a whole bunch of condoms and piled them on the bed. More than they would ever need for one night. That should probably have clued her in to his inexperience, but at the time she thought he was just being attentive. Which he was. He had been so patient and gentle. And so good. It was her first time, but she’d never considered it was his.
“Well... yes. I thought you knew.”
“Are you serious?” Her eyes widened again. “I thought you’d lost your virginity to someone before we started dating. The girls at school were all crazy about you.”
“Yeah, but I was crazy about you, Heather,” he said.
Her legs turned to jelly, and she held on to him for dear life, hoping he wouldn’t notice how tightly she was gripping him. She smiled weakly. “Well, at least you knew I was a virgin that night.”
“I didn’t.”
“Seriously?” she whispered loudly, and then forced herself to lower the volume. “You couldn’t tell?”
“Heather, I was sweating bullets and fumbling the entire time.” He laughed. “Nothing you did that night was as awkward as me breaking three condoms and trying to figure out how to get you out of that huge dress.”
A high-pitched laugh escaped her throat at the memory. Her prom gown had been enormous. At the time she had been convinced she looked like a fairytale princess, but with the distance of time she realized how impossible that dress must have been for Simon. Sh
e had looked like a meringue or French pastry, dressed head to toe in cotton-candy pink complete with everything from gigantic sleeves to sparkling rhinestones. “That dress must have been torture for you.”
“I didn’t know they made dresses with so many layers,” he said.
She laughed again. “It was custom-made. A gift from my parents. The seamstress made it to my specifications.”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, in that case, it was a great dress.”
“You are a bad liar.” Her sides were starting to ache as she laughed even harder.
“To be fair, I was sporting a terrible mustache and beard scruff that year,” he said.
“Oh crap, I forgot about the mustache-beard combo.” She remembered how much he had wanted to show off his facial hair that year.
“I can’t believe I thought I looked good with that,” he said. “Here’s hoping nobody in the press ever gets a hold of our prom photos.”
“Well, if they do, promise me you won’t reveal that we both lost our virginity that night.” She lowered her eyes and her cheeks warmed. “I’d like to keep that between us. It was our special moment, and I don’t want to share that with anyone but you. Even though neither of us knew back then.”
“Of course.” Suddenly he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.
She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his lips on her skin. A tingle slipped down her spine in response. “Simon.”
“Hey, can I cut in?”
Her head jerked back in surprise.
A dark-haired man she recognized was standing right next to them, a grin on his face. “You two have been dancing for a while,” he said.
“Neil? Neil Bernard?” Simon’s hands slipped away from her as he reached over to shake Neil’s hand briefly.
“The one and only.” Neil turned to her to shake her hand quickly. “Hey, Heather, how are you?”
“Great.” She was still so startled by Neil’s presence that she had to wrack her brain to formulate a coherent sentence. “You were in math club, right?”
Neil nodded. “Yep. Simon and I had some good times back then.”
“Well, what are you up to these days?” she asked, grateful that there was now a distraction from Simon’s overt show of affection. The kiss was still warming her all over, despite her best efforts to pretend like it had no effect on her.
“I’m in publishing,” Neil said. “And obviously everyone knows you two are in the technology business.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, we are.”
“You’re probably getting hassled over all those lurid reports in the press,” Neil said. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to ask you about all that. I’d rather dance with you, Heather, so we can catch up. If that’s okay.”
Now she remembered him. Very nerdy. A bit of a class clown. He and Simon usually studied together. Neil had always been friendly to her and often let her copy his notes if she ever missed class. She remembered liking him.
“Sure, I’d love to dance,” she said quickly. Dancing with Simon had only increased the sexual tension between them. Escaping with Neil might help her shake off some of her nervous energy. And maybe get the crowd to forget how cozy she and Simon must have looked together.
Simon frowned, but nodded. He probably hated having to spend time away from her, but maybe it would force him to make small talk with their old classmates. “I’ll be over by the punch table. Going to see if anyone’s spiked it yet,” he told her, and headed off.
The dance with Neil lasted two songs, and while they danced rather awkwardly around the ballroom they reminisced and got all caught up with events over the last ten years. Afterwards, Neil escorted her over to the punch table, where she found Simon talking to Toni the tabloid reporter.
“I’m going to the bathroom for a second to powder my nose,” she said.
Without waiting for a reply, she swept out of the ballroom and hurried off to the ladies’ room.
The bathroom was empty, which calmed her nerves somewhat. All the pressure of tonight was getting to her, and a bathroom break was more than welcome. She took her time to send a text to her parents, and then retouched her makeup in front of the mirrors.
When she stepped out she nearly crashed into Simon.
“There you are,” he said. “I thought you seemed a little jumpy, so I came back here to see if you were okay.”
She flashed him a smile, touched by his concern for her. “I’m fine. Just texting my folks to check up on Finn.”
He returned her smile. “You’ve done a great job tonight, Heather. I know I haven’t made it easy for you, so I want to thank you for everything.” His smile faded. “I also wanted to apologize. That kiss on the dancefloor was a terrible mistake. I forgot myself when I should have respected your wishes to just be friends. It won’t happen again.”
But she wanted it to happen again. Being friendly with him wasn’t enough. That was why she had dreaded the reunion. It wasn’t simply that she didn’t want to have to deal with gossip or squeezing herself into a fancy dress. The scariest thing about the night was her reaction to Simon. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t control how she felt about him.
“I want to thank you, Simon.” She closed the gap between them until she was standing close enough to him to wrap her arms around him. Which she suddenly did. Heather wrapped her arms around him and looked up into his eyes. Looked up and saw a mix of his tenderness and raw need in his gaze.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Thank me for what?”
“For always looking out for me.” Her lips met his and he groaned.
Simon’s arms encircled her, pulling her close. His tongue eased her mouth open, and she surrendered to him, desperate to be swept away again. Desperate to give in to her desires instead of what she had been doing for weeks. For so long she had held back so much of herself that now she could barely stand it. But here in his arms she felt totally free again.
No one was back here. They could steal one moment before they went back and put on a show. Put on a show and lied to the world when, the truth was, they were drawn to each other and always would be.
She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth expertly. The place between her legs clenched and she clung to him so tightly she thought she might never let go.
It was then that the unmistakable flash of a camera went off.
Chapter 12
His arms slide away from her, but as they broke apart Simon could still feel the sensation of her soft lips on his.
Neil was standing near them, holding a camera.
“What the hell are you doing?” Simon demanded.
“Sending this off to my editor.” Neil snapped another photo, the flash nearly blinding them.
“Your editor?” Simon took a menacing step towards him, making sure he was shielding Heather with his body. “What are you talking about, Neil?”
“I’m on assignment,” Neil said.
“You’re a photographer,” Simon said through gritted teeth.
“I’m a freelance guy,” his former classmate admitted, and lowered his camera.
“We trusted you,” Heather snapped from behind him.
Simon balled his hands into fists, hot anger rippling through his body. “So, you came over to us to get a photo?”
“Oh, come on. Do you have any idea how much a photo of the reclusive Simon Diesel is worth?” Neil asked. “When I heard you two were coming to the reunion I seized my chance. Why should Simon be the only one who gets to make money?”
“The press isn’t allowed at this event,” Heather said. “It’s a miracle we were allowed to invite one reporter in here.”
Neil sneered. “I’m a former student, Heather. There’s no rule against alumni being members of the press.”
“You stabbed us in the back,” Heather said.
“You’ll get over it,” Neil muttered.
“Hand over the camera,” Simon said.
“You’re a tech guy. You know I’ve alread
y sent off the photos.” Neil smiled smugly.
If he could punch Neil without it getting into the papers he probably would have. His privacy meant everything to him, but Heather’s privacy was even more important. She had a son to worry about.
Simon cursed under his breath, reached for Heather’s hand, and started to head back to the ballroom. They had to get out of there before things got even worse. There wasn’t a fallback strategy for dealing with a disaster like this, and Simon wanted to get Heather out of here before all hell broke loose.
“I wouldn’t go out the front way if I were you,” Neil warned. “All of my guests are members of the press as well. They’re probably out there waiting in the ballroom for more photos.”
He didn’t want to believe Neil, but Simon made a calculation. If Neil was that desperate to make money from the photos, he’d probably want to give himself a head start. Make the other photographers wait while he got to be the first to break the story. Which meant that, even though Neil was a liar, his warning was probably the truth.
“We have to get out of here.” Simon gripped Heather’s hand even tighter and he plunged down a dark hallway, away from the muffled sound of music in the ballroom.
When they finally stepped out of the conference facility and into the cool night air, Simon’s rage subsided. The only thing that mattered was getting Heather out of here. He was an idiot to think they could have come back here, done a walk down memory lane and not get caught up in the moment. Part of him wondered if he’d planned this all along. Simon knew being there would bring back old memories. Had he wanted that to happen? No! Fuck! What was he going to do?
Once they got inside his car he pulled out of the parking lot.
“What do we do now?” Heather asked desperately. “I don’t think I can face Linda after this. She’ll never forgive me.”
A flash in the rearview mirror made him curse under his breath again. “We’re being followed.”
“What?” She turned to look over her shoulder and gasped. “There’s a guy with a huge camera in the car behind us.”
He stepped on the gas, the car tires screeching dangerously as he tore down the street. “I’m going to try to lose him.”
