The Dare Collection: February 2018. Anne Marsh
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She moved from the podium to a round of applause, her legs shaky. Molly guided her towards Alex, whose stare still devoured her from across the room.
Halfway there, she found her progress interrupted by Jeremy Wells.
‘Great speech.’
He snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waitress, his dismissive and slightly aggressive move surprising the girl so that her whole tray of drinks wobbled.
Libby hadn’t liked Jeremy the first time they’d met. She liked him even less now as he derailed the fledgling waitress’s carefully woven path through the partygoers.
Libby accepted a glass and thanked the girl. Reluctantly she turned her attention back to Alex’s financial director. His suit, whilst clearly expensive, erred on the too-small side, and his paunch obscured the waistband of his trousers and stretched the buttons on his shirt to bursting point.
Tingles—the bad kind—snaked up Libby’s spine.
‘I’m sure the funds will come rolling in now.’ His eyes gleamed, dipping to Libby’s chest.
Creep.
‘I hope so.’ The hairs on the back of her neck prickled to attention. She didn’t want to appear rude to one of Alex’s valued employees, but this guy made her skin crawl.
Her gaze sought Alex and escape. Sadly he too had been intercepted and was deep in conversation.
Libby stepped aside, making her intention to escape clear.
Jeremy touched her arm, his fingers quickly dropping away at her frosty glare. ‘So, I’d love to show you the sights before you leave London. Are you free tomorrow evening?’
He stepped closer, eyes flicking south again. Clearly he had the hide of an elephant—or was simply ignoring her subtle fuck off vibe.
Libby fought the urge to cover her cleavage with her hand. ‘I’d have loved to explore London—’ just not with you ‘—but every second of my week is committed to my work for Able-Active.’
She stretched her lips into an insincere smile.
‘Excuse me.’
She weaved through the bodies, coming to a halt at Alex’s side. With their backs to the opulent room’s ornate fireplace, he rested his hand at the base of Libby’s spine, fingers splayed. She breathed out a sigh.
‘Olivia, I’d like you to meet Jack Demont—my cousin, and brother of the bride at this weekend’s festivities.’
The handsome Frenchman dropped a kiss to the back of Libby’s hand. ‘Delighted to meet you, Ms Noble.’
Like Alex, he was tall, his striking eyes partially obscured by a flop of dark blond hair.
‘Please, call me Libby. Your English is excellent.’
Unlike her French.
Jack laughed. ‘Thank you. My father is English and I spend a lot of time here. Plus, I had my accent bullied out of me at school by some notorious thugs.’
He flicked a glare at Alex, who laughed and shrugged, unapologetically.
‘You gave as good as you got.’ He grinned a lazy smile at Libby. ‘I wore braces for much of my schooling.’
So Mr Perfection had once had flaws? A computer geek with braces? She shivered, certain that her fifteen-year-old self—an insecure bookworm dressed from the thrift store—would have found him attractive.
Alex turned back to his cousin. ‘I’ve invited Libby to Henri and Isabel’s wedding.’
Jack bowed his head in acknowledgment. ‘Yes. You must come. Provence is stunning at this time of year.’
‘I’m sure…’ Olivia looked away.
‘I don’t think Olivia is big on romance,’ said Alex.
Libby shot him a look she hoped conveyed her contempt. Why would he assume that? He knew nothing about her because she liked it that way.
The sting of his jibe called her a liar. Didn’t some part of her relish that they were getting to know each other? Not that she’d consciously let him in. She never let anyone in. But with his confessions about his mother and sister, his open, raw vulnerability—he’d lured her dangerously close.
Jack slid wary eyes between her and Alex, seeming to sense the tension sparking in the air. ‘Well, excuse me. I’m leaving for Nice tonight.’ He kissed both of Libby’s cheeks. ‘It was delightful to meet you. I hope you’ll accept my cousin’s invitation to the wedding so we can get to know each other better. Au revoir.’
Jack departed, talking the room’s warmth with him.
Goosebumps raced along Libby’s bare arms. She turned to Alex, the take-down she’d planned dying on her lips at his proximity.
He pressed close, leaving the scantest space between his body and hers. ‘What did Jeremy say to upset you?’
His breath gusted over her neck, her shoulder, spreading tingles.
She met his hard stare, felt the flickers of heat melting her insides. Was that jealousy? Possession?
‘How do you know I’m upset?’
His perusal completed a tour of her face, lazily tracing each feature in turn. ‘I’ve seen you happy, relaxed, excited, replete…’ He mouthed each word, his lips and tongue caressing her, as when he’d drawn those emotions from her. ‘I’m observant where you’re concerned.’
His fingers found the sensitive skin inside her elbow, sliding. The intimacy, for once, was irritating.
She bit her cheek. She shouldn’t have let Jeremy get to her. She’d met enough Jeremys professionally to be able to handle them. And, unlike Alex, they were easily forgettable and easy to walk away from.
Libby shuddered, the imprint of Jeremy’s fingers still tainting her arm, and his greedy stare still burning her skin.
‘Did he come on to you?’ A flash turned his eyes molten, burning into hers.
Why lie? She owed Jeremy nothing. And this thing with Alex was temporary. No time for insecurities.
‘Yes.’
But didn’t she feel his possession in every touch? Crave the spark of it in every look he gave her? What was wrong with her?
His fingers stalled on her arm, the press of the