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‘You ought to relax.’ He gave a lazy smile. ‘Jackie’s gone, your duties are all over, you can enjoy the last dance. Anyway...’ he pulled her back to him ‘...it would beveryrude to leave me like this!’
She didn’t know what he meant, not sure if she’d misunderstood, but as his hands drew her in, as her body returned from whence it had been, like a dint in the pillow, her head returned to its rightful place, she knew that she hadn’t misinterpreted, knew for sure that she hadn’t when he held her just that little bit closer.
‘Let’s hope this is a very long dance... ’ His voice was low and husky in her ear—shockingly inappropriate but so very, very sexy. He brushed against her as they moved. She could see her colleagues drifting past as they danced or sat on the sidelines and chatted. Perhaps there’d be a few nudges, but he’d danced with enough women to ensure the spotlight wasn’t on them now and not a single person watching would have guessed what was going on before their eyes.
She’d never felt like this.
Just dancing with him mocked a hundred times over the efforts of lovers who had quickly come and gone! Arousal coursed through her, thick arousal that moved slowly through her body, stirring her as it went, each throb of the music resonating through her body, each breath, each movement of her chest somehow unfathomably provocative,hisbreath shorter now in her ear.
‘I want to kiss you.’
‘You can’t.’
‘But I want to.’
‘Well...’ She could hardly breathe, let alone speak. ‘You can’t.’
‘Not your lips.’ Iosef’s mouth painted a decadent picture as still he whispered in her ear. ‘Your skin.’
‘You can’t.’ She could hardly get the words out, knowing she’d regret it—not the kiss but the audience.
‘Since that night all I want is to kiss you again.’
Which put paid to the theory he’d forgotten. Oh, and she wanted him to kiss her, wanted his mouth on her shoulder, wanted to press herself against him so badly it was indecent. She could hardly swallow, the air so thick with lust, her breasts stinging as they strained at her dress, and as the music stilled, as the lights came on, Annie felt like she was waking up from some erotic dream, the hotel ballroom full of limp balloons and plates of half-eaten food, a thousand dirty glasses littering the tables and in front of her, a rather red-faced Melanie holding George’s hand.
‘I know we were going to share a taxi but George has offered to give me a lift.’ Her eyes were wide with apology and pleading. ‘Though we can drop you off first.’
‘It’s a bit out of your way...’ Annie smiled. ‘I’ll get my own taxi.’
‘I guess I can give you a lift home—do you live near?’
Iosef said it so reluctantly that if they hadn’t just been on the dance floor, Annie would have sworn he was just being polite, not that Melanie cared. ‘You’re an angel, Iosef. ’Night, then...’ She practically ran out of the ballroom, but by the time Annie had collected her bag, it didn’t seem such a good idea any more. OK, he’d seen her tiny apartment, but she couldn’t possibly ask him back now, could she? And what if...?
‘I’m just going to the ladies’.’
‘Sure.’
It was one of those completely fabulous ladies’ rooms—discreet music filling the perfumed air, mirrors everywhere, baskets full of fluffy white hand towels even at this late hour. Despite not needing to use the loo, Annie used her time wisely. She drew a deep breath as she stared in the mirror at her flushed face—and unlike Melanie it had nothing to do with too much champagne.
Her thick, glossy, for once straight hair fell over one heavily made-up eye, her body was a delicious golden brown, even her lipstick was still on—never again would she look this good and never again would she have the opportunity to spend the night with someone as divine as Iosef Kolovsky.
It would never work... Running her wrists under the tap, Annie gave herself a harsh talking to.
She’d surely regret it in the morning.
She worked with him, for heaven’s sake. Imagine facing him on Monday...
No, she’d tell him thanks very much for the offer, but she’d take a taxi home.
Pulling the door open, she stepped out into the foyer with resolve, jumping slightly when from the shadows he caught her wrist.
‘I was thinking—’
‘Don’t.’ His lips were moving in on her and there was nowhere to go except against the wall.
‘Maybe we should...’ She didn’t finish the sentence.
His mouth was where her neck met her shoulder, and like a reflex action Annie’s head arched to the side, her eyes closing as his tongue worked its magic. ‘Maybe... I...should...’ Each word was an effort, each word forced out between breaths, each word refuted by the body that was wilting before him. ‘Just...get...a... taxi...’
