brilliant touch, that rose. Made Sam look elegant and seductively feminine. And the dress she was wearing was downright sexy! Looked as though she had been poured into it, the shiny fabric emphasising a very female figure, surprisingly well-rounded breasts holding up the strapless bodice—tantalising hint of cleavage there—and a waist small enough to give a man a snug handhold, a waist that highlighted perfectly curved hips that were swaying from side to side with almost mesmerising grace.
Over her stomach she held a dainty bouquet of white daisies and green leaves, and beneath that the movement of her legs, pushing rhythmically at the shiny, slippery, slim-line skirt was incredibly sensual. Tommy started to feel the pricking of desire and a strong urge to act on it. Another shower of rose petals reminded him of where he was and the dignity required of a best man. He wrenched his gaze up from the dangerously exciting skirt.
Lovely shoulders, neck…and she was wearing pearls! A pendant gleaming on her skin below her throat and droplet earrings dangling provocatively on either side of her face. And where had her freckles gone? One thing was certain. She didn’t look like anyone’s kid sister!
There was nothing forbidding about that face. It was pure come-hither, her mouth painted with soft lipstick, cheekbones shaded to an exotic slant, eyebrows peaking and winging, drawing his attention to the milky smoothness of a forehead he’d never seen before, and her eyes…somehow bigger and more luminous.
Eyes fastened on him…delivering a sharp kick to his heart. The sultry look she was giving him simmered with sexual promises. His skin suddenly tingled from the top of his scalp to his toes. Countless times he had told himself he didn’t want Sam Connelly. A man would have to be a masochist to want her. But this wasn’t the Sam he knew. This was…
Samantha!
O-o-o-oh yes! His mother had that much right.
And if ever there was a walking invitation to discover another side of Sam, this was it, and any thought of being lumbered with having to do right by her or even amusing himself with games, went right out of Tommy King’s mind.
CHAPTER FOUR
SAM WAS NOT sick with envy during the wedding ceremony. She was sick with excitement. The way Tommy had looked at her as she’d walked up the aisle kept buzzing through her mind and churning her insides to such a pitch she wasn’t even aware that the bride and groom were up to exchanging vows over the wedding ring until Miranda turned to give Sam her bouquet to hold.
In no time at all the pastor was declaring Nathan and Miranda “Husband and Wife,” and they were moving towards the table at the back of the gazebo to register the marriage in the official book and sign the certificate.
Sam’s heart was thumping hard as she and Tommy followed. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him, afraid she had read too much into his expression, and now that the surprise of her appearance was over, there might only be the usual teasing glint in his eyes.
“Quite a revelation,” he murmured.
“What?” The word tripped out before she could catch it back. Desperate to know if he was baiting her, as usual, she risked a quick glance at his face.
“You in all your glory,” he answered, his eyes warmly caressing, not even a twinkle of mischief.
“Miranda’s choice,” she mumbled, thrown into hot confusion by his open admiration and hopelessly inept at accepting such a personal compliment.
“You grace it with high distinction,” came the smooth rejoinder, his voice sounding sincere.
“Thank you,” she managed this time, grateful for a second chance to give a gracious response.
He lightly grasped her elbow to steer her around behind the now seated bride. She had never felt so conscious of a touch. Was he just being gentlemanly on this formal occasion or was he wanting physical contact with her?
“You look very dashing yourself in formal wear,” she said, giving in to the urge to show she could be generous, too.
“Mmmh…may I take that as a vote of approval?”
As he brought them to a halt, ready to move in as witnesses when required, she caught his quirky smile out of the corner of her eye and instantly hissed, “I’m sure you’ll have every unattached woman here slathering over you in no time flat.”
Before she could regret the tart remark, he leaned over and whispered, “You have my permission to beat them off.”
She flinched at the tingle of his breath on her bared ear. “Why should I do that?” snapped straight off her wayward tongue, pride blowing resolution away.
“Because I’m your partner for the day.”
Provoked by this dutiful stance she flashed him an arch look. “I might fancy someone else.”
His eyes simmered darkly at her. “I’ll beat off anyone who comes sniffing around you.”
This was a far more satisfying image than her beating women off him. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “I don’t want you to feel tied to me, just because you’re the best man and I’m the bridesmaid.”
“Ah, but I want to be tied to you today, Samantha.”
He accompanied his soft, seductive drawl of her full name with a look that challenged everything female in her, and that same everything started quivering with delight. She hadn’t fooled herself. He was seeing her as a desirable woman. And if she didn’t stop these stupidly self-defeating reactions, she’d spoil this new view of her. Tommy was offering what she wanted, even if it was only for today, and if she didn’t take it and run with it she’d be an absolute fool.
She poured all her wild hopes into a smile, desperately needing to negate her prickliness. “Then I’ll be pleased to have your company, Tommy.”
“I shall hold you to that,” he murmured, a triumphant twinkle lighting his eyes.
Sam’s heart leapt joyously at this evidence of serious intention. So lost was she in the magical possibility of secret dreams teetering on the edge of reality, she almost jumped when Nathan called to her.
“Your turn to sign,” he said, rising from the table and waving her forward. He smiled, his blue eyes brilliant with inner happiness. “You make a beautiful bridesmaid, Sam.”
“Doesn’t she?” Miranda chimed in, turning her radiance on both Sam and Tommy.
“Ravishing!” Tommy roundly declared, nudging her forward.
“Thank you,” she rushed out breathlessly, Tommy’s “Ravishing!” ringing in her ears and dancing through her mind. He hovered beside her as she sat and wrote her signature where the pastor pointed and the pen wobbled on the page, her hand seemingly disconnected to the task required, trembling with the excitement coursing through her.
When she’d finished, Tommy took the pen from her, not bothering to sit down, his arm encircling her bare shoulders as he leaned over the table and scrawled his signature with swift and masterful confidence. She stared at his handsome profile, almost disbelieving the feather-light caress of his fingers on her upper arm. He’d never touched her like this, as though wanting to feel her skin. Despite the heat of
