LaVyrle Spencer - Spring Fancy

"But I will on both counts before the day is over, won't I? What do you say we pick up this conversation at the end of it and see where we stand on the subject?"

"I'll be with him at the end of it, so don't wait around for me when the dance is over."

"In that case, remind me to steal a kiss sometime in the middle of the evening when he's not looking. The one I just got wasn't nearly good enough."

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked him on the arm. "Why, you arrogant, assuming… rake!"

His head dropped back, and he laughed with full-throated amusement. "Rake? God, I haven't heard that word since I saw my last Errol Flynn movie." With characteristic aplomb he captured her left hand and pressed it possessively to his thigh while she tried to yank it free. "Come on, don't get skittish. You look pretty enough for this rake to want to-what's the word-ravish? But I can hardly try it in the middle of a busy four-lane street in broad daylight, so let me console myself with your hand."

"That hand, Mr. Duggan, is wearing another man's engagement ring."

"And I'll turn you over to him as soon as we get to the reception. But in the meantime, quit pulling away."

She stopped resisting and let him hold her gloved hand palm down on his right thigh. His leg was firm and warm, and she knew she should withdraw, but it felt very pleasant, if very naughty, experiencing the flesh of a different man beneath her touch. He was much, much harder than Paul, and his thigh was larger in circumference, yet shorter in length. Realizing she'd been measuring the difference was unsettling. She tried to free her hand, but to no avail. He held it firm.

"Does he dance?" Joseph's eyes never left the road.

"Divinely."

"That won't work."

"What won't work?"

"I was thinking about stopping in there and catching a quick dancing lesson so I'd be one up on him in that department, anyway." He nodded toward a sign for the Gloria Allen Dance Studio as they passed it, then asked abruptly, "Does he smoke?"

"No."

"Mmm… we're even on that score. Is he rich?"

"He will be someday."

"Shot down again!" He eyed her askance. "Just how handsome is he?"

She growled suggestively, and he muttered a curse.

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Mmm… the best." She applied a slight pressure to his thigh for good measure.

"And how is he at-" His hand slipped from hers to clasp her thigh.

"Joseph Duggan, you cut that out!" She returned his hand to his own thigh, ignoring the pleasant tingle his teasing touch had brought.

They arrived at the church parking lot then. The other three cars were already there as Joseph pulled to a halt and killed the engine. He hooked an elbow through the steering wheel and turned to her.

"All right, then, a last resort-does he like dogs and cats and babies?"

"Babies, and that's all that matters." She was enjoying herself immensely by this time. They laughed lightheartedly, then Joseph threw a hand at the mohair upholstery overhead and barked in mock self-castigation, "God, is there anything the man hasn't got?"

She simpered, knowing she shouldn't. She gave him a coy pout, knowing she shouldn't. And even as the answer escaped her lips, she knew beyond a shred of doubt that she was shamelessly flirting. She peered up from beneath her darling hat brim and replied, "Yes… a 1923 Haynes."

The wedding reception was held in a beautiful restored turn-of-the-century house with three stories of corniced gingerbread, wraparound porches, upstairs verandas, cupolas and a grand total of eight bay windows. It was called the Victorian Club, and inside was as evocative of a bygone era as was its immaculate white exterior and latticed backyard gazebo.

Arriving at the Victorian Club where all the wedding guests were waiting, Winnie experienced afresh the phantasmal sensation that for this day she was someone other than Winnifred Gardner, contemporary woman, careered, affianced. Indeed, everything today seemed to tug at Winnie's heartstrings and urge her into a fanciful state of déjà vu, as if she'd been dressed for the part intentionally by some omnipotent force so it could sweep her back to a time she formerly knew.

The four cars pulled to the curb in front of the stunning architectural eye-catcher, and as the wedding party disembarked from the high old-fashioned seats, laughter and gay badinage spilled into the warm afternoon.

Winnie reached for her door handle, but Joseph was right there to stop her with a quick hand on her arm. "Wait!" Immediately he was out his side and around to hers. The foot block was narrow, and as she turned in her seat to search it out with her high heel, Joseph's hands came up, catching her about the waist and swinging her down beside him. His hands were sure and lingered a bit longer than prudent. Was it her imagination, or had he intentionally swung her down too swiftly so her hip collided with his stomach? If so, he took scarcely a moment to savor the contact before turning her by an elbow toward the walk.

Merrymakers had noted their arrival, and a throng of them rushed from the house to encircle and accompany the bride and groom inside beneath a shower of rice, while Winnie and Joseph ran at their heels.

The house was decorated with lush antiques, its oaken floors varnished to a high gloss, and its ceiling-to-floor casement windows topped off by eyebrow sashes and decorated with antique sheer lace curtains that let the daylight stream inside. An elegant staircase curved up from the enormous central entry hall, and wide sliding double doors were rolled back on either side of the generous area, vastly expanding the space where the dancing would be done later. The dining room was at the rear of the house just off the kitchen, which was the only room closed off to guests, for it had been converted to meet modern standards of efficiency for the accommodation of large groups such as today's.

As Winnie stepped inside with Joseph's hand at the small of her back, she caught her breath at the setting. Something here called to her heart, and she turned to Joseph with an appreciative gaze in her eye. "Isn't this place-" she glanced up the thick red runner on the curved stairway "-evocative? I was with Sandy when she first came to see it, and I was so afraid she might not choose it."

"Yes, it's really beautiful." But his eyes made only a cursory swing past the ballroom-width entry and sweeping stair before returning to her as he spoke the words.

"Now, Joseph, you promised."

"I did? What did I promise?" His hand moved caressingly on her back.

"You said you had to watch yourself today, didn't you?"

"Ah, yes, but does that mean I can't admire the scenery?"

She laughed into his glinting eyes, then the two of them turned and ambled toward the rear of the hall, his hand still riding the shallows of her spine. "Do you know what my first impression of you was when I met you last night?" she asked, gazing at the ceiling's domed windows.

"No, what?" He admired the arch of her neck as she looked up.

"That you are a consummate flirt, and that I should take everything you say with a grain of salt."

It was his turn to laugh. "Define the term consummate, if you will."

She shrugged, thought about it for a second and made a vague gesture toward the heavens. "Consummate… you know." Again she beamed him a grin. "Perfect."

"The perfect flirt? Is that how you see me?"

"You see? You're doing it again. Perhaps the word I should have chosen was incorrigible flirt."

"I think I like consummate better. It sounds sexual, and it's nice to think one woman finds me perfect in some way."

Just then a voice spoke behind them. "Winnifred, dear, there you are."

At the sound of Paul's voice Winnie spun around, pressing a hand to her thumping heart, wondering if he'd heard Jo-Jo's last remark, certain he'd seen Duggan's hand lingering on her waist. It took an effort to keep her voice light and lift her cheek for Paul's kiss while Jo-Jo looked on.