Tess pulled a white business card for the women’s shelter from the top drawer of the escritoire in the small study attached to her suite of rooms.
As she turned to head back downstairs, she realized it was less than ten minutes before midnight. The party would be over soon. She stopped and stared at the ornamental desk clock, biting her lip.
She had to admit she was enjoying this little time with Dash Black. She had always admired him… From a distance of course. Like everyone else, Dash hardly took any notice of her, and she had been very surprised when he had spoken to her and even asked her to keep him company.
He was very handsome and she was sure women threw themselves at him. Her stomach tightened at the thought of watching Dash with some gorgeous woman. And there were plenty of them downstairs.
Rich businessmen attracted beautiful women who had a chic she envied and could not hope to emulate, no matter how rich her father was. Her mother had passed away when she was little, leaving her with her father who never paid much attention to her. Not that he didn’t love her. She knew he did.
She wasn’t worried about leaving Dash to his own devices. Even now, she had no doubt he was no longer sitting alone while he waited for her. He might not even wait at the table, but expect her to come find him once she returned downstairs. Now that his guilt had been appeased, she would no longer qualify for his undivided attention.
Going back downstairs at this moment in time would serve no purpose other than to further underscore the humiliating fact that she did not fit amidst her father’s guests. She might have been born to his world, but she could never feel like she belonged in it.
From the clock, her gaze shifted to the plaque hanging on the wall. It was a saying by Eleanor Roosevelt and it reminded her that she might not be able to help her shyness, but she did not have to be craven as well.
She would just hand him the card and return to her room, she decided.
Dash became aware of Tess instantly when she arrived once again in the periphery of his vision. She said and did nothing, but the sweet scent he associated with her reached out to surround him. He turned from the cover model who had approached him within seconds of Tess’s disappearance from their table.
“You’re back.” He said.
Her gaze flicked to the model and back to him. “Yes.” Tess replied.
She was right, she thought. Barely two minutes since she left him and he was already in the arms of another woman. Not that that was any of her business. She reached her hand out, a small white card between her delicate thumb and forefinger. “Here’s the contact information for the shelter.” She said.
He took it and tucked it into the inner pocket of his formal dinner jacket.
“Thanks.” He said
“You’re welcome.”
The lights dimmed and the orchestra slipped into a song. It was a slow, romantic one, chosen to encourage physical and conversational intimacy. Tess turned to leave, but not before an expression he did not understand crossed her features. Why should it make her sad to give him the card? Had something happened to her?
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the almost tragic apprehension that turned her beautiful eyes so dark, they appeared black. The blonde put her hand on his arm and he realized that men and women were pairing off.
Ah, the dance, he thought. And in a split second of clarity he understood Tess’s sadness and that he had a choice. He could dance with the sexy, extremely world savvy woman to his left, or he could dance with Tess.
“Tess” he called, and went after her.
She stopped and turned, her expression was carefully guarded, but he could tell that she expected him to be with the model. She had grown accustomed to neglect and although she seemed more than willing to talk to him, she was terribly shy around others. She expected to dance with no one. And the expectation had put that sadness in her eyes. It was not right.
She was gentle and generous. What was the matter with the men in this room that they overlooked this delicate but exotic bloom?
He shook off the blonde’s hold and stepped toward Tess. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth formed a perfect little O.
Dash didn’t ask or give her a chance to say no. He just gritted his teeth, took her hand and molded her close, struggling to remain unaffected now that she was so close to him. She brushed against him as they drifted across the floor and his entire body clenched in response.
He wasn’t the only one affected, he realized in the next instant. Delicate color tinted Tess’s cheeks and her breathing quickened. She was very beautiful, Dash thought. She had full red hair and big green eyes. The kind that seemed to look into your soul.
She shivered slightly in his arms and his body reacted accordingly. He wondered if she was seeing someone. She wouldn’t react to him like this if she were in love with another man came the furious thought. Unless, of course, she wasn’t really in love. Not that it was any of his business though
But curious to test his theory anyways, Dash slid his hand down the length of her spine, his palm settling into the hollow above her backside. The slightest amount of pressure set her tight against him.
And then he slowed their dance until it was no more than a pretext, a subtle form of foreplay. In the space of a few steps, it went from subtle to searing as her movements aligned themselves with his. He was practically making love to her right there on the floor—and she to him. Each step became part of a mating dance, her breasts crushed against his chest, her hips and thighs melded to his. She moaned softly, the sound barely more than a breathless sigh.
But he heard it. He heard it and knew what she wanted. Placing his hands on both sides of her face, he tilted it up for his kiss and then he lowered his mouth to hers.
.