The vast space was emptying out. Caius was surprised. He was used to coming to events like this, tolerating it for as long as possible, which wasn’t usually very long, and then seeking out the next event to try and keep his interest alive.
But that no longer appealed. What did appeal was the thought of getting back to the apartment with Poppy and forgetting about that disturbing interlude with the paparazzi and ridiculous thoughts of how he couldn’t recall what it felt like to be in a situation like this with anyone else and undoing that dress so that he could fill his hands with her—
‘Can we go dancing?’
Caius blinked and focused on Poppy, who was looking up at him. She said, ‘Celeste said there’s a new place opening tonight.’
‘Celeste?’
‘The French ambassador’s assistant.’
The thought of going to a nightclub opening filled Caius with a sense of ennui. He opened his mouth to say no but then thought of something. ‘Are you suggesting this because you think it’s what I want?’
‘I haven’t been out dancing since I was in university and those places were dives. I’ve never been to a proper club.’
‘You’re pregnant!’ Caius was aware he sounded like someone twice his age. An indignant father.
Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not handicapped, Caius. The baby will probably love the music.’
She looked so young in that moment, face open and excited, eyes shining. Caius felt jaded. Like the buzz kill. And yet her infectious enthusiasm lit something inside. A need to indulge. Feeling sure she’d hate it once they got there, he shrugged and said, ‘OK, fine, let’s go.’
But Poppy didn’t hate it. She loved it. Even with a sparkling water instead of sparkling wine. Even wearing an evening gown when everyone else was more appropriately attired. She loved the glamour of it, the dance floor with its retro lit-up squares and the disco balls. The private booths and the funky mix of house and pop music.
She was swaying to the beat, looking at the crowd, drinking it all in. She could feel the baby kicking and turned to Caius where he was sitting in the booth looking at her. She came over to him, hands on her belly, and said over the pounding base, ‘The baby is dancing too!’
He pulled her down onto his lap and put his hands on her belly, Poppy moved them to where she’d felt the kicks and the baby kicked again under Caius’s hand. She saw his eyes widen and cheeks flush. She felt a surge of emotion and had to blink it back.
The moment felt incredibly intimate even though Poppy knew the backdrop was the antithesis of intimate. It was public. Loud. Frantic. She caught Caius’s hand and stood up. ‘Dance with me?’
But Caius shook his head. ‘I don’t dance in places like this, Poppy.’
She let his hand go and stuck her tongue out, before saying, ‘I don’t care if it’s not cool, I’m dancing.’
Before Caius could stop her, she’d gone beyond the VIP cordon and down the stairs and onto the dance floor. He stood up and went to the rail, putting his hands on it, searching for Poppy’s distinctive hair in the crowd and then he found her, in the middle, holding her dress up with one hand, and moving to the beat in a way that was both endearingly offbeat and seriously sexy.
She couldn’t dance. That much was obvious. But she didn’t care and wasn’t attracting sniggers, quite the opposite. She was attracting attention. Mostly from men, eyeing up her curves. Poppy was oblivious, dancing in her own little world, smiling to herself. She seemed younger, carefree.
Something surged within Caius. He only realised it was jealousy when he was halfway across the dance floor to insert himself between her and a growing rapt audience.
She looked up at him and smiled and he couldn’t help smiling back because his hands were full of her and the jealous beast inside him could breathe again. They moved together and Caius forgot about everyone else as they moved to a different beat.
She suddenly reached up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, hard, and then pulled back. Caius asked, ‘What was that for?’
Poppy looked pleased with herself. ‘Earlier. A kiss for a kiss. Now we’re quits.’
But they weren’t quits at all, because Caius suddenly realised he’d wanted to distract himself from thinking about earlier revelations by losing himself in Poppy but he was here, enjoying himself far too much, when these places had never really held much of an appeal for him, after his teenage years.
Another unwelcome revelation.
And then Poppy yawned and Caius couldn’t help but laugh. She was looking at him, indignant. ‘What’s so funny?’
He shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell her that she was the first woman who’d yawned in his presence and yet he still wanted her.
‘I think you’ve overestimated your energy levels.’
She looked a bit sheepish. ‘Maybe.’ She looked around wistfully. ‘But I’d like to come back.’
Caius curbed the urge to assure her he’d bring her clubbing again, even though the thought of someone else in a place like this with her was momentarily rage-inducing.
