we can talk, if you’re still so hot and bothered—although, trust me, I have a solution for that.”
“I’m not hot and bothered,” Cecile lied, but Luke simply strode off knowing the truth.
Her body craved his. Her mind liked his and he met her challenge for challenge. The chemistry flared almost out of control in all areas, especially the ones that mattered. She would be sitting next to the most infuriating man in the room. And the most attractive. Cecile made her way to her assigned spot. The bride and groom were already seated, and all around the room the guests were settling down at their tables.
Once the minister finished the blessing, a movement to her left indicated Luke had arrived. He set down her wine. “Thanks,” Cecile said.
“You’re welcome,” Luke replied. “I’m totally at your service. Anything you need.”
More loaded words, Cecile thought as a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. Luke Shaw was not the type of man you could use up and then spit out. He was the type a girl should savor, like fine wine. Despite her earlier resolution, she was tempted to indulge…if only a little. Luke was like no man she’d ever met before. The pendulum was swinging toward “maybe I should.”
“What are you thinking?” Luke whispered.
She twitched slightly, his breath causing her skin to warm. “I was thinking of grabbing one of those rolls,” she said, lying again.
“Master of the art of changing the conversation,” Luke declared.
“Absolutely,” Cecile said. “I’m like a cat. I always land on my feet.”
“Do you purr like a cat, too?” he asked, his tone smooth. “Would you like me to scratch you behind your ears?”
Thankfully she didn’t have to reply to his question as the main course arrived. She quickly discovered she was too wired to eat the combination chicken-and-steak entrée. She picked at the delicious-looking salad and passed on the rolls.
Maybe the wine was going to her head. Her face did feel a little tingly, as if she’d used a good astringent. She picked up her fork and forced herself to eat the chicken so that something besides alcohol was in her stomach. Still, she didn’t say no when the roving waiter came by and refilled her wineglass. She wasn’t driving but instead taking a cab out to her parents’ house in the suburbs.
“So are you going to dance with me?” Luke asked when Elizabeth and Devon went to cut the cake.
“I think we’re scheduled to share one dance,” Cecile said. The bride and groom’s first number was a waltz, but she wasn’t sure about the music for the wedding party dance that followed.
“I meant after that,” Luke said, suddenly serious. “Despite my earlier corny lines, I’d like to get to know you.”
“Let’s see how the first one goes,” Cecile said, his seriousness shaking her slightly. Just when she thought she had Luke pegged, he changed the rules. “I’ve always said you can judge a man by how he moves,” she admitted.
“You have?” Luke’s expression was one of interest.
“Oh, you can absolutely tell,” Cecile said with a nod. “My sorority sisters and I used to bet on it. Like if a man dances like a constipated hamster. Or does the sprinkler.”
“The sprinkler?”
“Yeah, when you put one hand behind your head like this—” Cecile put her left hand behind her head so that her elbow pointed outward “—then your right arm extends straight out and sweeps back and forth like one of those pulsating water jets.” Cecile demonstrated.
Luke winced. “Yeah, I admit, that’s pretty bad. Very common. And bad. Not one of my gender’s finer examples.”
Cecile drew her breath sharply through her teeth. “Exactly. Avoid at all costs.”
“So if he’s horrid on the dance floor, does that mean he’s terrible in other endeavors, as well?”
“Eight times out of ten,” Cecile admitted. Her face reddened and she took a long sip of wine and stole a glance at him over the rim.
Luke appeared suitably horrified. Then he winked. “Lucky for you, I don’t dance like that.”
“We’ll see,” Cecile commented, the rush of adrenaline sending a jolt through her. She sipped her wine and stared at the empty glass. How had that happened so fast? Time to switch to water. If not, she’d probably do something she’d regret. Like jump Luke Shaw and find out what kind of moves he had, starting with planting her lips on his. She had no doubt he could kiss, and new leaf be darned. She understood now why men rammed their ships on the rocks when exposed to the sirens.
Kissing Luke was a delectable-sounding idea but, unfortunately, probably not a very wise one.
Then again, Cecile wasn’t known for wise decisions when it came to men. Unlike Lisa, Cecile was impulsive. Mr. Right always turned into Mr. Wrong. It was a fact of her life. Cecile rose to her feet, her mind waffling. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…” she said.
Luke stood also, a chivalrous gesture indicating good breeding and refined manner. He had to stop impressing her! Requiring space, Cecile headed for the sanctity of the ladies’ room. Getting her bearings and wits together was probably a smart idea. The man had crawled under her skin, made her want things she’d best avoid. He made her want to throw caution to the wind. He invited her to play with danger.
All night he’d had the upper hand, probably from overhearing her conversation. But Cecile wasn’t one who left the status quo alone, especially when it wasn’t tilted in her favor. She was almost thirty and ready to get serious about having it all. She was tired of simply attending weddings—darn it, she wanted her own.
She wanted marriage and a husband and a career. She had no idea what Luke’s intentions were beyond the obvious that involved getting her horizontal.
But she could say no, no matter how tempted she was. Right?
LUKE WATCHED AS Cecile made her way toward the ballroom exit. Ladies’ room, he surmised. She wove her way through the room, her posture tall and strong despite having had a lot of wine in a short period of time.
Her body had a natural sway to it, one that enticed despite being clad in purple fabric that did little to enhance. Luke had made a career out of studying people and he liked the lines of Cecile’s neck. He liked the way her mouth moved and the way she raised both eyebrows when she gave him her dubious look.
He hadn’t met a woman who’d interested him this much in a long, long time, which made toying with her fun. He’d pushed to see exactly how much she’d dish back. She’d met his challenges directly, which had impressed the heck out of him.
As for naming her his date, that pronouncement had taken even him by surprise, but once he’d voiced the words, he’d immediately been glad he’d said it. His better ideas often arrived spur-of-the-moment.
The idea of spending time with Cecile appealed. She reminded him of one of those traditional Greek statues. She had classic features that didn’t come from plastic surgery or perfectly applied makeup. He could sense a realism to Cecile that mirrored his own. He guessed that she lived with
