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“So, since it’s a done deal, we had just as well enjoy the dance, hadn’t we?”
“I suppose.”
But agreeing to continue the dance didn’t reduce her tension. She wasn’t exactly taking hasty glances over her shoulder, but Hammond sensed that she wanted to.
Which left him wondering what she would do when this dance ended. He expected a brush-off. A polite one, but a brush-off just the same. Fortunately the band was playing a sad, syrupy ballad. The singer’s voice was unrefined and tinny, but he knew the words to all the verses. As far as Hammond was concerned, the longer the dance lasted, the better.
His partner fit him well. The top of her head was even with his chin. He hadn’t breached the imaginary boundary she had set between them the moment he pulled her into his arms, although the thought of holding her flush against him was tantalizing.
For the time being he was okay with this, with having the inside of his forearm resting on the narrow small of her back, her hand—absent a wedding ring—resting on his shoulder, their feet staggered as they moved in time to the slow dance.
Occasionally their thighs made glancing contact and he experienced a fluttering of lust, but it was controllable. He had a bird’s-eye view down the scooped neckline of her top but was gentleman enough not to look. His imagination, however, was running rampant, flitting here and there, ricocheting off the walls of his mind like a horsefly made crazy by the heat.
“They’re gone.”
Her voice drew Hammond from his daze. When he realized what she had said, he looked around and saw that the marines were no longer there. In fact, the song had ended, the musicians were laying down their instruments, and the bandleader was askin
g everybody to “stay right where you’re at” and promising they would return with more music after taking a short break. Other couples were making their way back to tables or heading for the bar.
She had lowered her arms to her sides. Hammond, realizing that his arm was still around her, had no choice but to release her. When he did, she stepped back, away from him. “Well… never let it be said that chivalry is dead.”
He grinned. “But if dragon-slaying ever comes back into vogue, forget it.”
Smiling, she stuck out her hand. “I appreciate what you did.”
“My pleasure. Thanks for the dance.” He shook her hand. She turned to go. “Uh…” Hammond plunged through the crowd behind her.
When they reached the perimeter of the raised pavilion, he stepped to the ground, then took her hand to assist her down, an unnecessary and courtly gesture since it was no more than a foot and a half below. He fell into step with her. “Can I buy you a beer?”
“No, thank you.”
“The corn on the cob smells good.”
She smiled, but shook her head no.
“A ride on the Ferris wheel?”
She didn’t slow down, but she shot him a wounded look. “Not the House of Fright?”
“Don’t want to press my luck,” he said, grinning now because he sensed a thaw. But his optimism was short-lived.
“Thanks, but I really need to go now.”
“You just got here.”
She stopped abruptly and turned to him. Tilting her head back, she looked at him sharply. The setting sun shot streaks of light through green irises. She squinted slightly, screening her eyes with lashes much darker than her hair. Wonderful eyes, he thought. Direct and candid, but sexy. And right now, piercingly inquisitive, wanting to know how he had known when she arrived.
“I noticed you as soon as you entered the pavilion,” he confessed.
She held his gaze for several beats, then self-consciously lowered her head. The crowd eddied around them. A group of young boys ran past, dodging them by inches and kicking up a cloud of choking dust that swirled around them. A toddler set up a howl when her helium-filled balloon escaped her tiny fist and floated toward the treetops. A pair of tattooed teenage girls making a big production of lighting their cigarettes sauntered past talking loudly and profanely.
They reacted to none of it. The cacophony of the fair seemed not to penetrate a private silence.
“I thought you noticed me, too.”
Miraculously she had no difficulty hearing Hammond’s softly spoken words above the carnival noise. She didn’t look at him, but he saw her smile, heard her light laugh of embarrassment.
“So you did? Notice me?”
