a place for himself next to Nicole and his arm brushed hers, making his presence known. “Mind if I join your group?” he asked her specifically, knowing the company she was currently keeping would object if they could.
She gave him a slow once-over and bestowed one of those dazzling smiles of hers on him, but there was nothing in her expression that gave away the fact that they knew each other. “Not at all. The more the merrier.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Nicole Britton.”
He slipped his hand into hers, savoring the soft, supple feel of her flesh against his rougher fingertips. He inhaled deeply, and the ripe, luscious scent of apricots assailed him. Despite having enjoyed a small feast from the buffet earlier, his stomach growled hungrily, but his sudden appetite had nothing to do with food and everything to do with her. She smelled good enough to eat, every bare inch of her, and he couldn’t help wondering if her skin tasted as sweet and tempting as the fragrance teasing his senses.
He wanted to find out. Seduction and surrender played tug-of-war between their clasped hands and their clashing gazes. Nothing new there as far as the two of them and their attraction went. A lazy smile edged the corner of his mouth, and she watched his lips with a combination of fascination and guardedness. Her reticence made him even more determined to take this opportunity away from the real world, free from familial expectations, to explore what was between them.
His blood pumped heavily in his veins, and if the subtle way she tried to finagle her hand back from his grasp was any indication, she was just as affected by their silent, sensual exchange. And that was enough for him. For now.
Finally, he released her hand and introduced himself, shattering that breathless spell that had held them both momentarily immobile. “Mitch Lassiter,” he returned, following her lead in keeping their association anonymous. “Has anyone figured out which bit of personal information is yours?”
“Not yet.” She tossed her head back in an attempt to restore her composure, and ticked off the failed guesses so far on her fingers. “I’ve been pegged as a model, someone thought I loved to travel abroad, and another person believed that I’ve jumped out of a cake for someone’s bachelor party.”
She grinned at the three other men, seemingly enjoying the fact that she’d stumped all of them. “Can’t say I’ve ever done any of those things, but the last suggestion certainly sounds like a whole lot of fun.”
And being the unabashed woman she was, it wasn’t hard for Mitch to visualize her as a bachelor’s fantasy, dressed in something skimpy that would show off her sinuous body. The only problem was, Mitch wanted it to be his fantasy she fulfilled. “Care if I take a guess of my own?”
She turned toward him, initially surprised by his question. Then she shrugged and an impudent light in her eyes replaced her hesitation. “Go right ahead. Give it your best shot.”
Clearly, she didn’t think him capable of nailing her contribution to the list of personal information he held in his hand. While he had no idea if his guess was accurate, it suited her competitive, athletic nature the best. “You’ve tried out for the women’s Olympic swim team.”
Her mouth opened, then promptly closed. He’d stunned her into speechlessness, which was a first between them. While he would have loved to rib her over that, he kept to their pretense of being strangers in front of their audience. The last thing he wanted to do was get them disqualified before they’d even had a chance to compete together.
“Wow,” she breathed, her tone awed. “You’re very good.”
“So I’ve been told,” he drawled, winking at her.
She sent her admirers a quick grin. “It looks like this is the guy for me. If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get to know Mr. Lassiter better.”
The other men conceded defeat and broke apart to find other potential partners. The band leader announced that they’d be taking a break and that Merrilee would be arriving in a few moments to greet everyone and go over a few last-minute rules for the upcoming competition. The man encouraged guests to take advantage of the dessert buffet and open bar, and when Nicole did just that, drifting toward the table laden with various sweets and confections, Mitch followed, noticing her rare bout of quietness.
Nicole cast him a surreptitious glance as she picked up a small plate then selected a puff pastry with cream filling, drizzled with chocolate icing. “How did you know?” she asked, her tone so soft he almost didn’t hear her question.
He tipped his head, not sure what she was asking. “How did I know what?”
“That I tried out for the women’s Olympic swim team.” She concentrated on choosing another dessert, this time opting for a small brownie square layered with caramel. “Trying out for the U.S. team was something that happened before our mothers met and became friends. Unless my mother mentioned it to Joyce, and she mentioned it to you.”
There was something in her voice he couldn’t quite decipher, something between hesitancy and insecurity, and he found it interesting that she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No, my mother never said a word, which means I doubt she knows anything about you trying out for the team. It was an educated guess, based on what I know about you. You’re into sports and very athletic, so it seemed like a logical assumption.”
“Like I said, you’re very good, and intuitive.” She licked a smudge of caramel from her thumb, her tongue slowly removing the sticky sweetness in a way that ignited a smoldering heat in Mitch’s belly.
He wanted to know more, wanted to discover as much as he could about this complex woman and what made her tick. Including her drive and ambitions. “But this slip of paper doesn’t say whether or not you made the team.”
She visibly tensed at his comment and took her time savoring a bite of the pastry. “I never expected anyone to guess that information about me.” Her reply was flippant, and very ambiguous.
“It’s your own fault for putting that interesting tidbit out there for speculation,” he argued lightly as he snagged a small lemon cheesecake square from the dessert table. “I guessed correctly, fair and square, so I think you owe me an answer.” He bit into the sweet-tart confection and waited patiently for her reply.
Her chin lifted stubbornly, defiantly, in a way that was, no doubt, meant to waylay him. “Why are you being so persistent about this?”
He popped the last of his dessert into his mouth and chewed, not at all daunted by her terse tone. “Now that you and I are pairing up as a couple, I want to get to know you better.”
The look she shot him brimmed with skepticism. “Why?”
His gaze swept the area, taking in the other couples laughing and conversing with each other. “Isn’t that the purpose of this singles’ mixer?”
“Maybe for those who honestly want to get to know one another.”
“And if I honestly do?” he asked, his voice low and sincere, snaring her attention. He stared into her wide, searching eyes, letting his intentions toward her, his honest interest, dangle between them for a few consuming seconds. “It’s a simple question, Nicole. Yes or no would cover it just fine.”
Her straight teeth tugged on her lower lip, scraping off a crumb of chocolate. “How about yes and no?”
He chuckled and shook his head, not at all surprised by her answer that wasn’t an answer at
