[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.So Ally acted nonchalant about Jeremiah’s absence.That is, until he did arrive.He knew how to make an entrance, too, especially in a black tuxedo.And although he could’ve passed muster in a James Bond movie, his tousled, wheaten hair belied the cowboy beneath—the roguish gambler who populated every Western movie with his cocky smile and knowing eyes.It seemed as if no woman in the room could take her eyes off of him, but Ally finally managed.Not that it was easy, because even though she had her gaze on the soup, all she wanted to do was take another peek at him, just so she could feel her heart give an addictive leap, spurring her pulse to electric speed.From the corner of her eye, she saw him take his chair.She’d seated him between Stef Howard, her cohostess, and a seventy-five-year-old widow, Mrs.Branford.Neither woman seemed to recall that she was married or too dang old to be flapping her eyelashes at a single man.“Well, look at you,” Mrs.Branford said, hormones practically blooming out of her like returning springtime.Stef Howard just sat there grinning at Jeremiah until her husband cleared his throat across the table.She winked at her hubby and turned to the guest on her other side, striking up a conversation.Somehow, Ally got through dinner, although she felt Jeremiah watching her during every bit of it.His gaze seemed to press on her skin, her chest, making her breath come short.In fact, it sounded as if she was breathing too loudly, that her scrambling heartbeat could be heard throughout the room.What was going on with her? Jeremiah Barron was handsome—she would give him that.But otherwise?He wasn’t an option.She had always been well aware of the traps his kind of overindulgent lifestyle could bring, and now wasn’t any time to be giving in to that.And she kept telling herself this through dessert, then her retreat to the ballroom, where she saw to last-minute details and got ready to welcome the guests.Of course, Jeremiah was the final one inside, turning her nerves upside down as she waited for him to saunter over to her with that twinkle in his eyes.Like many of the male guests, he took her hand, bowed to her, raised it to his mouth.Heaven help her, but at the touch of his lips, a million shivers danced up and down every inch of her body.He raised his gaze, staying bowed over her hand, grinning.Unable to talk—if she did, she might fumble over each word—she nodded at him, smiling coolly.When he straightened up he didn’t let go of her hand.He even had the gumption to give her a slow look, from her silk pumps and up, over the fall of her coral-colored dress, over her waist, then the bodice that hugged her breasts.For a forbidden moment, she felt desirable, tempting enough to justify the full-blown blast of desire in his gaze.His obvious lust echoed in her, ricocheting around, leaving a jarring tweak of welcome damage wherever it hit.Then she realized where they were—in a roomful of people who all seemed to be staring.And she realized who she was.Who he was.As Ally removed her hand from his, she wished she hadn’t worn a gown that clung to her curves this way.One that didn’t bother to hide the modest attributes that creation had seen fit to give her.“I spent all day taking a horse out, walking the country,” he said, “trying to work you off my mind.”The words of a seducer.And if they hadn’t sounded so genuine, it would’ve been easy to walk away.Ally was saved by the sound of Stef Howard seizing the microphone and welcoming everyone to the ball.Relieved, she turned around to pay attention to their hostess, hopefully giving Jeremiah a clear signal that she wasn’t going to play these games with him.The strategy worked until the band swung into their first song, a rousing two-step.In Ally’s next breath, she felt her hand in Jeremiah’s again, his palm on her waist as he swung her into the country dance just as simply as he’d scooped her into that Jeep yesterday morning.She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a man touching her waist, almost forgotten how big and strong those fingers felt, how the imprint of a hand could burn through material and straight through to the skin.But she’d never felt a burn like this, and it marked her even deeper, traveling like lightning to the center of her.Before she even realized it, Jeremiah had danced her out the open French doors and to the patio.The stars peeked over the tall maze hedges, and there seemed to be a rumble in the humid air, a trace of sulfur that hinted at a coming rainfall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]