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Bitty took a long swallow of her wine, draining the glass. “Crap, I can’t believe Dette is making everyone do this.”
Lara shook her head. “Dance lessons aren’t so bad. She’s had the details for this wedding worked out since she was five. She wants
it to be perfect.”
A chorus of comments rounded the table.
“And perfect includes eliminating all those unsightly bad dancers who wreck the videos.”
“The girl has got a plan.”
Another cousin leaned forward, whispering, “Yeah, she’s just lucky she finally found a guy willing to step into the role.”
Bitty took a bite off her roll left from dinner, made a face and tossed the remainder on her plate. “Like luck had anything to do with it. She’s been trolling for a guy with Adam’s pedigree since she was fifteen. The guy never had a chance.”
Lara prickled at the turn in conversation. She knew her sister had stepped on a few of the pedicured toes at the table here, but Mary was right. This was a week to celebrate with Dette, not a week to complain about her. “We’ll all be so lucky to find a guy as perfectly suited to us as Dette has.”
Bitty leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know, but maybe your guy has already found you.”
Cal was crossing the terrace wearing khakis and a white-collared shirt, open at his tanned, corded neck, his blue sport coat slung over one shoulder. He’d dressed for dinner and looked sexy as hell, in a wholly different way than he had that morning at the boathouse. She couldn’t look away.
He stopped a foot away from her chair. “Hey, beautiful.”
Beautiful. She loved that he thought so but she felt like a fourteen-year-old girl, slumped down in her chair at a pizza parlor, watching the quarterback of the varsity football team. And the way she blushed at the sight of him…she was hopeless. Before she knew what was happening, she’d burst into one of those ridiculous toothy grins that made everyone around you wonder what you’d been up to. The grin he flashed back boasted it was something naughty.
Resting his hand on the back of her chair, Cal leaned down. “May I have this dance?”
The girls at the table started giggling, throwing in ooohs and ahhhs for good measure. Cal smiled at their shenanigans and raised his eyebrows. “Laugh it up, ladies. Dette’s got assignments for all the groomsmen. You’ve got about two minutes before the next guy waltzes over here.”
Holding his hand out for her, Cal smiled. “Promise I won’t bite,” he said with a wink, no doubt, because she knew for a fact that he did. “How about it?”
Lara put her hand in his and felt a jolt of something electric spark at the point of contact, a current of desire streaking through her body, sending rippling waves of heat pulsing low in her belly. The steady smile on his face faltered in synch with hers. She rose from her seat, needing to get closer to him, wondering how she’d stayed away all afternoon. Suddenly, she had the sense that every set of eyes was on them, that no amount of trying could hide the want she felt for this man. The glint in Cal’s eye as he led her to the dance floor confirmed she couldn’t hide it from him. But then, why would she want to?
Frank Sinatra played through speakers suspended around the terrace. From the center of the floor, Lady Sasha clapped her hands for attention, her thick accent adding to the flavor of her presence. “Zis is fun and free dance. Look now, everyone on your feet for zis one. Come!”
Behind them, the girls stood from the table, starting toward the floor. The men, realizing they had no choice, pushed back reluctantly from their table and straggled toward the women looking like they were headed in for dental work.
Not like Cal.
Bending forward so that his mouth grazed her ear and sent chills skittering over her skin, he growled, “You’ve been hiding from me all afternoon.”
Slowly shaking her head, she couldn’t manage to actually deny it. He was only half right. She’d been hiding, but it was from everyone and everything. She’d needed to be alone to get her head straight. To figure how she could manage to fall in love with him but still keep a secret from him, lie through omission, lie directly if asked, because a previous commitment demanded it. “I just needed some time to think.”
“Everything okay with your sister? Sounded like quite a blowout this afternoon.”
Lara swallowed, instinctively searching out Dette across the floor. She was watching them. Hostility coming off her in waves. Lara looked away. “No, it was just nerves. Maybe on both of our parts. We worked it out.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“No.” She stared at him, losing herself in the comfort of his arms. “I just want to forget about it.”
“Okay.” Cal looked relaxed as he pulled her arm across her body to spin her out and then back into his chest. Her breath caught in her throat as her breasts pressed against him. He knew how to dance, knew how to lead without even thinking about it, and her body followed eagerly in time. As “Fly Me to the Moon” ended and Nat King Cole began “Unforgettable”, Cal pulled her in close against him and set the pace with a gentle sway.
Lady Sasha circled slowly, one arm sweeping in wide arcs, her hips working in exaggerated motion. “Zis is slow, sensual, you feel ze difference.”
Lara could definitely feel the difference. The beat had slowed, their bodies, too, but her heart had begun to race. Cal’s hold on her had their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle. His head bowed as they moved slowly around the dance floor, his breath teased through the light curls at her temples shooting goose bumps across her skin. It felt so good to be this close to him, it felt like she belonged here. Everything was perfect, except for her.
“What are you thinking?” His voice was low, barely audible above the music.
