around a little while longer in hopes of running into the fascinating gypsy again. He’d been pretty much pounced upon by Carl and his other friends the minute he’d walked back into the ballroom after eating, and he hadn’t been able to make a graceful escape since.
Across the room, Corinna caught his eye, smiled weakly, then turned away to continue a highly animated conversation with a woman dressed in a leopard-print catsuit. He sighed. That situation was truly awkward. He was fond of Corinna, but that was all there was to it. He couldn’t foresee his feelings ever developing into more, as he had made it clear to her in as tactful and considerate a manner as possible a couple of weeks ago. That conversation had surely been as painful for him as it had for her, and he still fretted about whether he’d chosen the right words. He just hoped she would finally accept the facts without being hurt—and without putting a wedge between two families who’d been connected for much longer than either of them had been alive.
He was tired. The booming music, mostly novelty Halloween tunes, was starting to give him a headache. At thirty, he was approximately the same age as the other party guests, but he was beginning to think he was too old for keg-and-costume parties.
It was rather a relief when the volume decreased and the music became background rather than prominent. A microphone reverberated, causing everyone around him to grimace and cover their ears. Someone laughed into it, and then a round of somewhat intoxicated toasts toward BiBi and Carl began. It sounded as though they could go on for a while.
Remembering that pleasant interlude in the courtyard earlier, he snagged another cocktail and slipped through the doors while everyone else was laughing at the string of suggestive jokes coming from the microphone. He’d take just a few quiet minutes, he promised himself, then he’d return to the party. Or maybe he’d come up with an excuse and leave for the night.
When he saw the beautiful gypsy standing in the courtyard, sipping champagne and gazing meditatively at the fountain, he decided maybe he’d stay awhile longer, after all.
The embedded lights in the garden played softly across Madison’s features, glittered from the gold accents of her colorful costume and reflected in her blue eyes when she looked up at him. Moonlight bathed her bare shoulders and silvered the soft waves of blond hair spilling from beneath her headscarf.
“Hello again, Dr. Jones.”
Chapter Two
Jason got a kick out of hearing Madison call him that whimsical nickname in her sultry, musical voice. Though he wasn’t usually a man who indulged in fantasy, he found it easy to slide right into the character of suave adventurer with her. “You don’t seem surprised to see me, Esmeralda.”
She smiled up at him from beneath her thick lashes when she took another taste of her champagne. “I am a fortune-teller,” she reminded him with a soft jingle of bracelets as she indicated her very flattering—and delightfully revealing—outfit.
“You never got around to telling mine earlier.”
“We were rather rudely interrupted.”
“So we were. You seem to have dried off nicely.” He couldn’t help glancing downward to the front of her white peasant blouse. And since he happened to be looking that way, he might as well linger just a moment to admire the expanse of creamy, glistening skin revealed above the low neckline, the deep shadow of cleavage, the tiny mole just above her …
She cleared her throat. “Um, Jones?”
With an unapologetic grin, he lifted his eyes. “Yes?”
“You’re being very bold, sir.”
Her tone was teasing, not offended, so his grin only deepened when he murmured, “You know how it is with us epic adventurers.”
“Sadly, yes.” She injected just the right amount of world-weary resignation into her tone to make him laugh. Damn, but it was fun to be with her. The only real fun he’d had tonight.
He motioned toward the open French doors, through which they could still hear voices, laughter and music. “You’re missing the toasts.”
She glanced that way, then lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “There will be plenty more this weekend. I needed a little break.”
“Yeah. Me, too. With all those people in there, it gets too stuffy inside.”
She nodded. “It is warm in there. It’s very nice out here.”
“Yes, it is.” He made it clear he wasn’t talking now about the temperature.
She smiled at him again. She had a very nice mouth. Beautifully curved, the lower lip full and soft-looking, gleaming with a subtle gloss that made him want just a little taste—though he suspected he wouldn’t be content to stop with a mere nibble.
The noise level behind him had abated somewhat. Music began to play, suggesting the dancing was starting up again. In contrast to the faster tunes of before, this number was slower, more relaxing. Maybe everyone else was getting a little tired, too, he thought with a faint smile.
Madison tilted her head in recognition of the tune. “‘Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,’” she murmured. “I love this song.”
The title summed up quite well the way he felt at that moment. It was unlike him to get so carried away.
“Let’s not waste the song,” he said, holding out his arm to escort her inside. “We still haven’t had our dance.”
She tucked her hand beneath his elbow, smiling up at him. Covering her hand with his, he didn’t immediately move toward the doors. His gaze lingered on her glistening lips.
Her brows rose. “Was there something else?”
“I was just thinking—any movie hero worth his salt would be unable to resist stealing a kiss in the moonlight from a beautiful gypsy.”
Her smile wavered, but he wouldn’t say she looked displeased by his impulsive comment. He was surprised the words had escaped him, to be quite honest. Something about this night, this party, this costumed encounter—or maybe something about this woman—brought out a flirtatiously playful side of him even he rarely saw. Especially lately, when he’d been so swamped with obligations and responsibilities that there had been little time for play.
If he were to make a guess, he would say Madison was as tempted as he to take advantage of that private moment. Her gaze held his, and he was certain he saw an answering spark of recklessness ignite in her deep blue eyes.
“Since we’ll only be a movie hero and a gypsy for a little while longer, maybe we shouldn’t waste the moonlight,” she said, confirming his suspicion.
His pulse rate kicked into a higher gear even as he grinned in response to her tone. Flirty. Fun.
In that same spirit, he pushed his fedora back on his head and touched his lips to hers. She tasted as sweet as he had predicted. He felt a jolt of hunger when her mouth moved softly beneath his.
He had intended to keep it casual. Just an innocuous brush of lips, a champagne-flavored impulse that would make them both smile when they remembered it later. Instead, he found himself lingering. The light touch became a firm press of mouth to mouth. Her lips
