Arizona Caress: She Feels The Heat Of His Hot Embrace

by Bobbi Smith

"Chance will be here. Don't worry," Regina tried to calm her.

  "Wouldn't you think he'd want to be among the first to arrive at a party given in his honor?"

  "Maybe he had business to attend to. Who knows? Plus there was that rumor . . ."

  "Rumor? What rumor?" Bethany was instantly alert.

  "It's just hearsay, I know, but someone told my mother that they saw Mrs. Broderick out with a young woman shopping this afternoon."

  "Mrs. Broderick shopping with a young woman?" She was perplexed. "Who was it?"

  "I have no idea. I'm just telling you what I heard."

  Bethany started to scowl, but a new batch of arrivals forced her to smile. With the composure of a good hostess, she greeted them warmly and directed them on into the ballroom where the party was in full swing, the music and dancing having already begun.

  "Well, I can't wait here any longer," she declared angrily. "I'm going in to my guests. Are you coming, Regina?"

  "Of course," she answered, but as they started to turn away from the main doors to join the party in progress, the Broderick carriage drew up. "Wait, Bethany! Here he comes now!" Regina hissed to her as she grabbed her by the arm.

  "Chance?" Bethany's eyes shone at the thought that he'd finally arrived. "Do I look all right?"

  "Like a dream, how else?" her friend answered honestly, having never seen Bethany looking more lovely than she did now in the triple-skirted, yellow grosgrain gown with lace overlay and very low-cut décolletage. "I'll leave you to him. Good luck." Regina absented herself from Bethany's side.

  "Thanks." Wetting her lips nervously, Bethany smoothed one errant curl back in place, then watched as he climbed out of the carriage.

  Chance looked so marvelously handsome that Bethany felt her heart skip a beat. Soon . . . she told herself . . . soon she would be in his arms, holding him, kissing him, loving him . . . She waited impatiently for him to help his mother down, and she started to take a step forward when he turned back to the carriage again. She could tell that he was speaking to someone else, but she had no idea who it could be. Chance held out his hand as if to help someone else descend, and it was then that Bethany saw her.

  All kinds of terrible thoughts raged through Bethany's mind as she stared at the slender, raven-haired young woman Chance was offering his arm to. The rumors had been true, but who was she?! Had Chance married while he was gone? Her heart ached at the possibility, and Bethany wondered how she would handle it, if that was indeed the case. As she watched them come up the walk, Bethany's killer instinct reared its ugly head. If this woman had stolen Chance from her . . .

  "Good evening, Agatha. Chance, darling!" Bethany greeted them as they entered the house.

  "Good evening, Bethany," Agatha and Chance greeted her, and then Agatha added, "We've brought an extra guest along, and we hope you don't mind. Aurora, dear, this is our hostess, Bethany Sutcliffe."

  "How do you do?" Rori greeted Bethany, seeing in the lovely, blond woman everything she could never hope to be.

  "Aurora has come back East with Chance and will be staying with us now," Agatha explained.

  "How wonderful," Bethany gushed, thrilled to know that at least Chance hadn't fallen for another woman while he was gone. "Are you related, Aurora?" She turned to Rori, eyeing her critically, and in that moment, she assessed her as a very worthy rival for Chance's affection.

  "No," Rori started to answer, but Chance stepped in.

  "Rori is my ward, Bethany."

  "Your ward?" She blinked in surprise at the irony of Chance Broderick being responsible for a girl's reputation. She would have laughed at the absurdity of the notion, but knew better than to show her claws before Mrs. Broderick. She put a hand on Chance's powerful forearm as she said with pointed intimacy, "You'll have to tell me all about it, darling, as soon as we get a moment alone."

  "Shall we go on in and join the other guests?" Agatha suggested, wanting to put an end to the tête-à-tête that was making Aurora and herself feel uncomfortable.

  "By all means," Bethany agreed. "Everyone's so glad you're back, and they're positively dying to hear all about Arizona." She took his arm and artfully stole him right away from Rori and his mother. She gazed up at him adoringly as she led him into the party, knowing that they as a couple would be the center of attention and not Chance and his "ward."

  Rori stood awkwardly until Agatha patted her hand and drew her aside. Agatha had seen the predatory look in Bethany's eyes, and she knew what the other woman had planned for Chance, even if he didn't. Her own sentiments, however, were with Aurora. She didn't know what existed between the young girl and her son, but she sensed it was more than just a passing attraction.

  "My dear, you are an innocent in the ways of women, aren't you?"

  "What do you mean?" Rori asked, tearing her gaze away from the sight of Chance and Bethany as they disappeared into the ballroom.

  "You've never come up against women like Bethany before, have you?"

  "No . . . I . . . "

  "Don't say a word," Agatha advised, "just listen. Women like our hostess there will do whatever they have to to get what they want. The thing to do is to outsmart them at their own game."

  "But how do I do that?"

  "You just go in there and have the best time you possibly can."

  "But what about the dancing?"

  "If a young man asks you to dance, tell him you're tired, but that you'd love to talk to him. Then ask him about himself. Believe me, you won't have to worry about dancing again all night long. If there's one thing men love, it's talking about themselves."

  "It's that simple?" Rori was mystified by her advice.

  "For tonight it is. You are the prettiest woman here, and the moment you go into that room with me, you're going to be the center of attention. Are you ready?"

  The thought of Chance and Bethany still hurt, but Rori was determined not to let him think that she cared one way or the other. She would join the party and have as much fun as she could. "Yes," she told Agatha with a determined lift of her chin, "I'm ready."

  "Good girl."

  Together the two women stepped through the open double doors and into the ballroom.

  It seemed that everything Agatha had told her would happen did. Not only did she cause a stir among the older woman's friends, but it seemed that every young man in the place flocked to her for an introduction. Agatha handled it all with a certain finesse, and soon Rori was safely ensconced on the side of the dance floor surrounded by potential beaux. Rori remembered all of Agatha's advice and was amazed at how easy it was to fend off their invitations to dance and engage the men in conversation. Agatha, she decided, certainly knew what she was talking about when it came to men.

  "Chance is one sly dog," Evan Strickland declared as he stood across the floor talking with another bachelor of equally questionable repute. They'd been eyeing Rori ever since she'd entered the room some time before. "He goes out West because his brother needs help, and he comes back with the most beautiful woman Boston has seen in years."

  "They say she's his ward, but I don't know if I believe it or not," Michael Samuels added lecherously.

  "Believe it," Evan said firmly. "We all know Agatha Broderick."

  "That's true enough," Michael backed down from his unspoken accusation.

  "Whoever she is, she's absolutely gorgeous."

  "Quit drooling, Evan. If she's connected with the Brodericks, you haven't got a chance. You know Chance won't let you within ten feet of her."

  "It's true that Chance and I have had our differences in the past, but . . ."

  "There's no 'buts' about it. He hates you, Evan. He won't let you near her."

  "We'll see." Evan's eyes narrowed speculatively. "When I want something, Michael, I usually get it, and I think I want Aurora."

  "You don't have a prayer," he announced negatively.

  "Maybe, maybe not . . ." Evan answered coolly as he plotted his move in gaining an introduction to the beauteous newcomer.

>   "If Chance hadn't caught you cheating at cards that one night, it might be all right, but now . . ."

  Evan glared at his companion dangerously. The memory of his ugly encounter with Broderick some time ago still had the power to humiliate him. "I was just slightly short of funds that night. I've since recouped my losses. My financial status is . . . well . . . comfortable right now."

  "Right," Michael drawled, knowing how quickly and easily Evan went through money. "Well, I wish you luck with her and her guardian. If tonight's crowd is any indication, I think you're going to need it."

  "I don't," Evan answered easily as he started across the dance floor to speak with the object of his newly inflamed desire.

  Rori couldn't believe all the attention she was getting or all the compliments the men were heaping on her. She would have been enjoying herself had it not been for the sight of Chance and Bethany, arm in arm, laughing and visiting with a group of guests on the other side of the room. She hadn't spoken to Chance since Bethany had claimed him in the foyer, and the way he was ignoring her hurt. Every time she heard Chance's deep, mellow laugh or saw him smile at his sophisticated companion, she felt as if someone was twisting a knife in her heart.

  Still, Rori followed Agatha's advice. She smiled and chatted and carried on her act of being a lady quite well, considering all she wanted to do was march straight across the room to Bethany and . . .

  Rori sternly told herself to stop. She couldn't do anything to Bethany. She was a lady now, and ladies didn't do those things. A taunting voice in the back of her mind asked "why not," but her common sense told her a firm "no." Chance was proud of her because she'd become a lady. She couldn't let him down. Not now, not ever, no matter how much she wanted to revert back to her "old" self.

  For all that she was smiling and acting like she was having a wonderful time, Bethany was fuming. Her every effort to maneuver Chance alone had been frustrated, and she was desperate to be in his arms. It had been so long! When the music began again, this time a lilting waltz, she would not be denied. Tightening her grip upon his arm, she interrupted his conversation with his friend Rod.

  "Chance, I do believe it's time we danced, don't you?" she asked archly.

  Chance almost groaned out loud. He'd been quite successful at avoiding intimacy with her since they'd arrived, but it seemed she would be put off no longer. "Of course, Bethany. If you'll excuse us, Rod?"

  Chance had no choice but to take her in his arms and guide her out onto the dance floor.

  They swirled around the room, looking as if they were perfect for each other, her petite fairness complementing his tall, dark presence. Being held close to him was heaven for Bethany. She had waited for this forever, it seemed, and if she could do it, she was going to get him outside on the veranda before the night was over.

  Chance, on the other hand, felt stifled and trapped by Bethany's clinging nearness. He had not been able to get away from her since they'd first arrived, and he wondered now if he ever would.

  Chance found himself looking for Rori as they moved about the room in perfect rhythm. At first, he'd thought she was quietly passing the evening with his mother and her friends, but then he'd heard the light sweetness of her laugh. His attention honed in on where she stood, seemingly holding court.

  Chance had expected her to be popular, but he'd never thought the men would be swarming around her like they were. He felt a pang of some irritating emotion, but he refused to put a name to it. Instead, he turned his attention back to Bethany, reminding himself that he was not to interfere. This was exactly what he'd wanted for Rori. This was exactly what he had hoped would happen. Yet, even as Chance told himself that over and over again, he wondered why it still bothered him so much that she seemed to be enjoying the attention of all those other suitors.

  Chapter Thirty

  "To what do we owe the honor and joy of your presence in our midst?" Evan asked Aurora outrageously as he joined the gathering of admirers surrounding her. He'd been watching and listening as he'd approached, and he noticed that none of the other men had been daring to really take the initiative with her.

  "I beg your pardon?" Rori was taken aback by this stranger's boldness, and she looked up to see a smiling, fair-haired man coming directly through the group toward her.

  "I've been told by reliable sources that your name is Aurora and that you belong to Chance Broderick. Is that true?" Evan deliberately led the statement to get a reaction from the lovely young woman as he elbowed his way to her side.

  "I don't belong to anybody!" Rori denied hotly, wondering how anyone could think she belonged to Chance when he'd been off gallivanting around with Bethany ever since they'd arrived. "Whoever told you that was lying."

  "No one told me that." Evan gave her what many women considered a devastatingly flirtatious grin. "I just made it up to see if you really were unclaimed."

  "You make me sound like a gold mine or a piece of property you can stake your claim on," Rori returned, amused by this man's brazen, unorthodox manner. The other men had been nice to talk to, but ultimately they were boring. This man, with his blond good looks and wicked glint in his eyes, at least promised an entertaining conversation.

  "Could I stake my claim on you, Aurora?" Evan's blue eyes were dancing with devilish delight as they met hers.

  "But I don't even know you, sir," she answered, feeling suddenly out of her depth and wanting to avoid his question.

  "My name's Evan Strickland. I'm twenty-seven years old, and I've just fallen madly in love for the first time in my life," he professed baldly, drawing a chuckle of agreement from her other admirers.

  Rori flushed in embarrassment. She wasn't quite sure how to handle such flowery compliments. She thought he was jesting, but then again, he seemed so ardent, she couldn't be certain.

  "Would you care to dance? I've noticed that none of your other suitors here has managed to get you out onto the dance floor yet, but the waltz that's playing is slow and romantic. Won't you join me?"

  "I am quite tired this evening, Mr. Strickland. I'd really prefer . . ."

  "Call me Evan, and I won't take no for an answer." He took her hand before she could withdraw it and tugged her onto the ballroom floor.

  Short of making a scene and embarrassing herself, Rori could do nothing but follow him. She cast an apologetic look to the other young men and then turned to her bold escort, wondering how to handle the situation. She was chewing on her bottom lip nervously, and Evan noticed the uncertainty in her expression.

  "Is something wrong, Aurora?" he asked in a low voice so the others wouldn't hear.

  "No . . . I . . . er . . . Evan, can I be totally honest with you?" Rori asked, tired of the game-playing she'd been doing all evening.

  "I'd want nothing else from you."

  "Well, the truth is, I don't know how to dance."

  Again his puzzled gaze met hers. "Really?"

  "Really."

  "How could you have grown up to be such a beautiful woman and never have danced?"

  "Where I grew up in Arizona, there wasn't much dancing."

  "Would you like to try? Would you like me to teach you?"

  "Right now?"

  "Of course, when better to learn? We'll take it nice and easy, then no one will ever know that you're just a beginner."

  "Thank you," she beamed up at him, her smile bright with excitement. Suddenly, though, she grew serious. "What do I do?"

  "First, you relax. Then rest one hand on my shoulder and follow my lead. We're going to take rhythmic steps in time to the music and make circles while we're doing it. All right?"

  Rori gave a little nod as she moved into his arms. She held her breath in excitement as Evan squired her out onto the floor. They moved a bit haltingly at first as Rori worked to understand the rhythm, but once she got the feel of it, she danced as if she was born to it. She laughed with delight as Evan spun her completely around, and she didn't miss a step as he expertly increased their tempo.

  "You
were meant to be in my arms, Aurora."

  "It feels like it, Evan. Thank you," Rori replied, smiling and laughing lightly at the joy of being swept gracefully around the dance floor.

  Chance had been waltzing with Bethany, trying not to look in Rori's direction, but when he heard her laughter so close to him, he glanced up to find her dancing with Evan Strickland. Fury jolted through him. Evan Strickland! Of all the lowlife bastards in the world, what the hell was Rori doing dancing with him! Hell, what was she doing dancing at all?!

  Chance would have broken away from Bethany and gone after Rori, but he knew he couldn't do it without making a scene. In frustration, he continued to dance, waiting for the song to end so he could get her away from the miserable Strickland. Strickland was a weasel—a low-down, no good, skunk of a man. He made a practice out of using other people to his advantage. To the best of Chance's knowledge, the man had yet to do an honest day's work in his life. He'd inherited a small fortune from his deceased parents when he reached his majority, but had wasted that considerable amount in no time. In the years since, he'd tried to make a living by his glib tongue, sleight of hand, and quick wit. Women seemed to adore the devil-may-care attitude he represented, but the men knew him for what he really was—a rake and a wastrel. Chance had no use for Strickland, and he didn't want Rori anywhere near him either.

  Chance would not admit to himself that Rori's dancing with another man bothered him. He would not admit that he had wanted to be the first man to waltz with her. Instead, he directed all his anger at the intruding Strickland, and he could hardly wait for the dance to end so he could maneuver Rori away from him.

  Bethany noticed Chance's agitation over Rori dancing with Evan Strickland, and she grew annoyed. What was the matter with Chance? The girl was only his ward, wasn't she? Why was he so damned interested in what she was doing? Bethany had caught him glancing toward Aurora several times that night, his expression dark and foreboding.

  At the time, Bethany had blamed his tenseness on herself, thinking she'd done something to irritate him, but now she was beginning to believe that Chance's black mood was because of his ward. Oddly enough, that discovery didn't ease the aggravation Bethany was feeling. If anything, it made it worse as she tried to figure out exactly what was going on between the two of them.