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For the life of her, Candy couldn’t think of a solitary thing she shared with Derrick, or that she would ever want to.
“Both of us have got hot blood running through our veins,” he explained.
“Hot blood,” she repeated. She’d never thought of herself as having a violent temper, nor was she necessarily quick to take offense. The one exception to that was Carl Saks. The man irritated her more than anyone she’d ever known.
“Yeah,” Derrick continued, breaking into her concentration. “We’re both physical people.”
“Physical?” She realized that she was beginning to sound like an echo, but she didn’t catch his drift.
“Right. The lovin’ between us would be so hot, it’d set the sheets on fire.”
His words shocked her so much, she snapped back as though he’d physically hit her. “There isn’t going to be any lovin’ between us, so you’d best get that in your head right now.”
Derrick laughed and slid his hand down the small of her spine. Abruptly he brought her back into his embrace. His grip tightened until she was plastered against him. “Don’t be so quick to turn me down. It’s apparent you’re looking for a little action, and I’m pleased you chose me over the new fellow in town.”
“I didn’t choose you.” She didn’t know where he was getting that message.
His hand dipped farther downward. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Trust me. You and me could have a real good time together. Real good.” He cupped his hand over her buttocks and shoved her forward.
Candy swallowed tightly and frantically glanced around, looking for help. Any port in a storm, as the saying went. Every time she tried to put some distance between herself and Derrick, he took pains to press her more intimately against him. She searched the crowd, looking for someone—anyone—who could rescue her.
She found Slim but he appeared to be involved in a deep conversation with his wife, who didn’t seem to be any too happy with him. Biting her lower lip, Candy continued her frantic search until her gaze collided with Carl Saks’s. With a single flicker of her lashes she apologized and at the same time asked for his help.
Carl, however, seemed far more interested in drinking a glass of punch. He leaned against the wall, and braced one foot against the floorboard and the other against the wall.
She held his look while he raised the cup to his lips, downed the punch in one long swallow and then headed toward the dance floor, easing his way between the couples, moving in her direction.
Candy was so relieved, her knees went weak.
Derrick misinterpreted what was happening. “Hold on, sweetheart,” he whispered thickly in her ear. “I’ll get us out of here in a minute. If you want, we can go directly to my car. I’m as impatient as you.”
“No,” she said with all her strength.
“Okay. If you insist on a bed, we can go to your place, but I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to hold off that long. You might have to—”
Carl tapped Derrick on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”
Derrick ignored him.
“Let go of me,” Candy insisted, struggling.
Derrick stopped dancing and wore a stunned, disbelieving look.
“Let her go,” Carl insisted in words so frigid, they made Candy’s blood run cold just hearing them.
“Are you going to make me?” Derrick challenged in a loud voice that attracted the attention of the others.
Candy squirmed free, or so she thought. It soon became apparent that Derrick hadn’t released her and was looking to prove his claim on her.
The music stopped, and it seemed the entire room focused their attention on the two men and Candy.
“We don’t allow any fighting at the Grange,” Ronald Bader, a community leader insisted. Ronald made his way across the crowded dance floor.
“Let ’em settle it,” someone shouted.
“Take it outside,” another advised.
“No,” Candy cried, but no one, least of all Carl or Derrick paid her any mind. Both ignored her as if she’d vanished, or was of little consequence.
