long as it isn’t banana and anchovy pizza.’
‘Definitely not!’ They wandered over to the buffet table and helped themselves to chicken satay, tiny bridge rolls and cheese straws. Jodie eschewed the mince pies in favour of chocolate cheesecake, and ate Sam’s share as well as her own.
‘I had you pegged as a traditionalist,’ Sam said.
Jodie grimaced. ‘I hate mince pies. And Christmas cake. And Christmas pud.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘I don’t care if dried fruit’s good for you, it’s revolting.’
Sam’s lips twitched. ‘So you have chocolate instead?’
Jodie spread her hands. ‘Chocolate’s actually quite healthy.’
‘That report about catechins was referring to top-quality plain chocolate,’ Sam said, surprising her. ‘And it didn’t say you should eat industrial-sized quantities of the stuff.’
‘You weren’t eating your cheesecake,’ she pointed out, ‘and it’d be a shame to waste it.’
‘Huh.’ Sam gave a mock grimace and the corners of his eyes crinkled.
Jodie felt her pulse accelerate and looked away. Not now. No, please, she couldn’t develop a huge crush on the man now. She was supposed to be getting him out of his shell, that was all. Though a part of her wanted to do much, much, more…
As the band started, Sam looked round and raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that Stuart Henderson again, on vocals?’
‘And air guitar. A man of many talents,’ Jodie said. ‘Not to mention a string of nurses desperate for his attention.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s young.’
Sam burst out laughing. ‘You’re starting to sound like me.’
‘You mean, old?’ she teased.
‘Listen, you, I’d hardly started at infant school when you were born.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Jodie tapped her nose meaningfully. ‘I believe you.’
To his surprise, Sam was thoroughly enjoying himself. How long had it been since he’d had some fun? Excluding Mario’s…too long, he thought. When his marriage had disintegrated, he’d buried himself in work and avoided the social side of hospital life completely.
Right now, he wanted to have fun. And if Jodie thought he was an old fogey, she was about to learn something! ‘Come on. Let’s dance,’ he said to her.
‘Dance?’
‘Move your feet, wiggle about a bit in time to music, that sort of thing.’
Was this really Sam Taylor, Mr Frosty, talking? Jodie thought. But the offer was too good to resist. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, putting her plate down on a convenient table.
Dance. She’d expected him maybe to do what everyone else at the party was doing—as he’d put it, ‘move your feet, wiggle about a bit’. But, no, Sam Taylor could really dance. When Stuart’s band switched to a rock ’n’ roll number, Sam was spinning Jodie round and getting her to do all sorts of complicated things that would have had Matt goggling at his clumsy kid sister’s performance.
When the music stopped, she was out of breath. And then she became aware that she and Sam were the only two on the floor—everyone else was standing watching them, applauding and cheering. Yet again that evening Jodie’s face clashed with her dress, and she retreated to the table where she’d left her plate.
‘Come on. Play’s good for you,’ Sam teased.
‘Not this sort of play. I’ve got two left feet.’
‘I didn’t notice.’
‘You were leading me.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t know you could dance like that.’
‘I’m a bit out of practice.’
‘Could have fooled me.’ If that was out of practice, heaven only knew what he’d be like when he was back in the swing of things!
‘Oh, Mr Taylor…’ a breathy voice asserted beside them.
Melissa the Maneater from the neonatal unit, Jodie thought with a sigh, recognising the brunette in the skimpy dress.
‘I was very impressed with your…’ big pause ‘…dancing. Could we?’
‘I believe I’m Dr Price’s partner for this evening,’ Sam said, stepping closer to Jodie.
‘Jodie won’t mind, will you, sweetie?’
It was more of a command than a question. Jodie lifted her hands in surrender. She had to face it: men preferred small and slinky, not strapping and Amazon. In any contest with Melissa, she’d lose. ‘Be my guest.’
It was another fast number, and Sam dutifully twirled Melissa round the floor and somehow managed to evade her clutches for the next dance. Jodie merely sat on the sidelines, watching him and wondering what made him tick. One minute he was Mr Frosty, completely unreadable; the next he was shy and retiring; and now here he was, the star of the dance floor. She couldn’t work him out.
Four dances later, he was back at her side. ‘You’re supposed to be my partner for this evening.’
‘So?’
‘So, dance with me. Come on, Doc-a Dodo. Playtime.’
So he’d heard Amy’s pronunciation of her name, a nickname that half the ward staff had adopted. She flushed deeply. ‘I—’
‘Dance with me, Jodie.’ The sultry silver gleam in his eyes made her nod mutely and join him on the dance floor.
She wished she hadn’t when the music suddenly turned soft and Stuart started to sing a ballad. Sam drew her closer so that she was forced to put her arms round his neck for balance, and they swayed together in time to the music. She could smell his clean, fresh scent so clearly; the feel of his arms round her, together with the sweet seductive spell of the music, had her resting her head on his shoulder a few moments later.
Sam rested his cheek against her hair. He’d thought this would be a test he couldn’t cope with, holding Jodie in his arms. But it was easy. So very, very easy. She felt right; she belonged there. Her skin smelled of honey, and she was warm and soft and sweet and…
He couldn’t help himself. Her neck looked graceful and her skin was soft, and he couldn’t resist touching his lips to the curve of her neck. And once he’d kissed her there, he couldn’t stop. She felt so good. He needed to touch her, taste her. He trailed his lips up towards her ear, soft butterfly kisses, and felt her tremble in his arms.
So she was affected by this as much as he was.
‘Jodie,’ he breathed softly in her ear.
‘Yes?’ She lifted her head to look straight into his eyes. Hers were very green and very large, and her mouth was too tempting to resist.
His lips were just millimetres away from hers when the music changed again,
