gave an almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgment in her direction.
Flustered by the intensity of his stare, she nodded back and silently prayed that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by dropping her food all over the thick carpet.
Holding on tightly to her plate, and with as much grace as she could summon, she walked across the room to her table, not daring to look back. Yet somehow she felt those warm eyes burning through her exposed back.
Clint had zeroed in on Terri almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the black gown seemed to float over her slender body. Or how her deep brown skin glowed radiantly, tantalizing the viewer with teasing peeks of bare flesh as the dress flowed with her movements.
He had an almost uncontrollable desire to run his fingers through the locks of ebony hair that she’d wrapped magnificently on top of her head. Unconsciously he squeezed his companion’s arm to stifle the urge to touch her. There was no way that he could deny the instantaneous attraction he felt toward Terri. The powerful sensation unnerved him. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He’d always been attracted to women like his wife, Desiree. Women who were needy, women who… Desiree was dead, he reminded himself. And it was his fault.
“Is something wrong?” Melissa asked, sensing the change in Clint’s mood.
“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he answered offhandedly, as they moved into the center of the room.
Melissa cut her eyes across the room to where Clint’s gaze rested, then back to him in time to catch the look of longing in his eyes. “Why don’t we find a table and get something to eat? I’m starved,” Melissa said, a bit put off.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There are a few old friends that I want to speak with first.”
He gently eased her arm from his and crossed the floor, quickly engaging himself in a group discussion before she had a chance to protest.
For several moments Melissa stood alone, disappointed. Her hope of spending an elegant evening with Clint dissolved. But it was rare that she allowed her true feelings to show. And right now she needed something to soothe her injured ego. Putting on a practiced smile, she straightened her bare shoulders and began to do what was second nature—making men’s heads turn.
Terri made a valiant effort to focus on the food in front of her while keeping up with the conversations of the movie executives that flowed abundantly. But her mind kept wandering back to Clint. What was he doing here? She dared not ask her dining companions, knowing that her true interests would be obvious. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out before—
“Would you care to dance?”
The rich rumble of the voice seemed to shimmer down her spine and arrest her heart. Instinctively she knew it was him and was almost afraid to look up. But the large warm hand gently held her shoulder, and a surge of heat swam to her head, clouding her judgment.
She turned to look up at him and the most devastating smile assaulted her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
Terri felt hypnotized by the intensity of his dark, heated gaze. She didn’t know whether or not she had even answered him before she was gently eased onto the dance floor. In a matter of seconds her body was pressed next to his as he artfully moved with the slow, pulsing music of the band.
The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses, and she felt an overwhelming urge to snuggle closer to the hard lines of his broad frame. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, each dip and curve matching the other, she mused. How long had it been since she’d been held in a man’s arms?
Why did she have to feel so good? Clint wondered, his mind running in circles as he held her slender waist in one hand. He wanted to pull her fully against him, but dared not. He was sure that his untimely arousal would be evident.
The music drew to a conclusion, but he continued to hold her, searching for something to say, not yet ready to let her go.
She looked inquisitively up at him, a tentative smile lighting her face.
Finally he found his voice. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“A glass of tonic water with lime would be perfect.”
The melodic cadence of her voice floated to his ears. It almost didn’t matter what she said as long as she would continue talking.
He placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her toward the bar. “Two tonic waters with lime,” he instructed the bartender, his eyes never leaving Terri’s face.
Clint handed her the glass. “So we meet again,” he stated, his eyes boring into hers.
“I wasn’t aware that you would be attending.”
“It was a last-minute decision.” He took a sip of his drink, and his voice dipped intimately. “You look fabulous.”
Terri lowered her eyes at the unabashed compliment.
“I hope there won’t be any acceptance speeches tonight,” he added, rescuing her from her apparent uneasiness.
“No,” she breathed, thankful for the change in topic, “not tonight. This is more of a who’s-who gathering than anything else, Mr. Steele.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “My friends call me Clint. I wish you would.”
“You seem to have a lot of those,” she commented.
He grinned slyly, his eyebrow lifting. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
A hot flush of embarrassment seared her cheeks.
“Don’t be uncomfortable,” he said smoothly, as though reading her mind. “I’ve been watching you, too.” His eyes trailed over her curvaceous form, and she felt her heart begin to race.
“So where is your escort—boyfriend…husband?” he probed in the hope that she would reveal or confirm what Mark had said.
Terri smiled, melting Clint’s heart. “Sorry, none of the above. I came with Mark, who seems to have vanished. What about you? I thought I saw you with someone earlier.”
He knew good and well that she saw him, but he was more than happy to play along. At least there were no stray boyfriends or husbands to contend with. “That was my business associate, Melissa Taylor, who seems to have made quite an impression on Mark.”
Terri followed Clint’s gaze across the room to see Mark and Melissa laughing intimately.
“Mark does have a way with women,” she stated, a wry smile tilting her lips.
“Let’s dance,” Clint suggested in a low, urgent voice, taking her hand before she could deny him.
“I catch a faint accent in your voice,” Clint whispered in her ear as they moved easily across the dance floor. “It’s absolutely delicious.”
Terri’s pulse fluttered. “Barbados,” she answered softly.
“Hmm,” he hummed into her hair.
