Kayla Perrin - Until Now

“Smile,” Marshall told her. “People are going to start wondering what’s wrong.”

Tamara inhaled a shaky breath and then tried her best to force a smile. She had enjoyed the dancing when it had been on her terms, but now it was as if fate was laughing at her.

“You’re as stiff as a board,” Marshall whispered. “What happened to the woman I was dancing with earlier tonight?”

That woman had been playing a game, or so she’d thought.

“I’m not exactly comfortable with public attention,” Tamara said by way of explanation.

“It’s just a dance. Not a date with the executioner.”

Tamara wished that his voice wasn’t so deep and sultry. And that he wouldn’t whisper into her ear the way he did, as if they had developed some sort of comfort level already.

She tried to ease back as far as possible without looking uncomfortable, and when the song came to an end, she was relieved. It was clear to her that she’d lit Marshall’s fire, so to speak, and that he was interested.

“Excuse me,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a drink,” she told him. She felt as if her whole body was burning up.

“I’ll join you.”

Tamara headed toward the punch table. She had abstained from the cocktail when she’d arrived at the reception, but with Marshall on her heels, she poured a full cup and gulped it down.

She saw Marshall looking at her with humor in his eyes as he slowly poured a cup and sipped the beverage. Humor and determination.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Tamara put her empty cup on the edge of the table and plastered a smile on her face. “Nature calls.”

“Excellent,” Marshall said. He started for the doors with her. “We’ll go together.”

Tamara’s eyes widened in horror. “What?”

Marshall placed a hand on her upper back and kept walking with her.

“W-what are you doing?” Tamara asked, looking over her shoulder at him in disbelief.

“Not what you think I’m doing.” With one hand, Marshall pushed open one of the double doors, and with the other, he whisked her out of the ballroom. “I just want to talk.”

Tamara expelled a frustrated breath. “You’re following me because you want to talk?”

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” Marshall countered, coming to a stop several feet away from the reception-hall doors.

“Because I have to go to the bathroom?”

“You dance with me, leave me thinking you’re interested, and now you seem as though you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

Tamara stared up at him...and her vision momentarily blurred. She felt a little odd. A bit dizzy. But she forged ahead. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you take that as rejection?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Marshall countered, his full lips twisting. “I just want to know—what happened to the woman on the dance floor earlier? The one who made it clear she wanted me to chase her?”

Tamara guffawed. “Chase me?”

“I bet you’re planning to leave here and not give me a way to reach you. And tonight in your bed, you’ll have a laugh at my expense, right?”

“You know you sound crazy.”

“And you called me the heartbreaker,” he went on, shaking his head while his eyes danced with humor.

Amazing, Marshall didn’t seem perturbed by anything. He had the carefree manner of a man who had it easy in life.

“I’m sorry if you think—”

“Here’s the interesting thing, Tamara. Nigel’s my best friend. We work together. So whether or not you give me your number, I’ll be seeing you again. So why don’t we get past this game part—as fun as it is—and just exchange numbers now.”

“My, my, my. You certainly have a way with women, don’t you?”

Marshall threw his head back and laughed. “Am I coming off too strong? Sorry. It’s just...” His eyes roamed over her face. “Damn, I’m not sure what it is. All I know is that I’m interested.”

“What exactly are you interested in?”

“In getting to know you better.”

Tamara felt a little woozy again and knew she needed to splash some cold water over her face. “Can we please continue this conversation when I come out of the bathroom?”

“Sorry. Of course.”

Tamara found the door to the restroom a few steps away. Before she went inside, she glanced over her shoulder.

Marshall was still there, waiting for her.

He grinned. “I’ll be right here.”

Tamara said nothing, just escaped into the bathroom. Once inside, she headed directly to the sink, turned on the faucet and then splashed her face with cold water.

Tamara raised her head and looked at her reflection. Not only did she feel out of sorts, she looked a little flushed. She didn’t think she had overdone it with the alcohol, but perhaps the punch had pushed her over the edge.

For goodness’ sake, what had she gotten herself into with Marshall? She hadn’t expected him to be like a dog with a bone.

“He sees this whole thing as a game,” she said to her reflection. “He’ll get bored soon enough.”

She should have known that with a man like Marshall, once she had taken on the role of the mouse, he would take on the role of the cat.

Taking one of the hand towels from a wicker basket, she delicately dried her face. She was feeling even more light-headed than minutes ago and wondered if she was coming down with something.

She went into a stall and then came out and washed her hands. Perhaps she should just put Marshall out of his misery now. Tell him that she knew who he was because he had played this very game with her cousin. And she’d heard about him with other women, as well.

The Marshall she had known years ago had loved the chase. And he was good at conquering.

All of the time spent with him this evening had proved to Tamara that he hadn’t changed over the years.

The heir to the auto fortune that his father had built, Marshall went after women as though it was a sport. Callie told her that he’d never been married. He was what now—thirty-four, thirty-five? It wasn’t a crime to be single at that age, but Tamara would bet her last dollar that Marshall didn’t want to settle down because he didn’t believe in commitment.

Which had actually made him a perfect candidate for flirting with tonight. Their banter had been entertaining and had totally kept her from thinking about Patrick.

She exited the bathroom, noting that she seemed to be walking a little bit unsteadily. As promised, Marshall was standing there, waiting.

Her eyes roamed over him from head to toe. The black suit that looked like a million dollars on him. He truly was one incredibly fine specimen of a man. There was no doubt as to why the women swooned over him.

“You want to get to know me better,” Tamara said without preamble as she walked toward him. “Really get to know me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then how’s this?” None too gracefully, she closed the distance between them. And as she eased up on her toes, the thought that came into her mind was that she was definitely drunk. Because she had no clue why she was doing what she was doing...nor could she stop herself.

Completely out of character, Tamara tipped up on her toes and planted her lips firmly on his. She gripped his shoulders, more for support than anything, and after about five seconds, she ended the kiss as quickly as she had initiated it.

Easing back, she looked up at Marshall. Saw the confusion on his face. And felt it in herself as her head swam.

Why’d she just do that?

Marshall’s expression said that he was stunned but also delighted. He raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, her tongue feeling heavy. “To score?”