Fiona Brand - Just One More Night

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A good thirty minutes later, after posing for endless photographs while the guests sipped champagne and circulated in the grounds of the Dolphin Bay Resort, Elena found herself seated next to Nick at the reception.

Held in a large room, which had been festooned with white roses, glossy dark green foliage and trailing, fragrant jasmine, the wedding was the culmination of a romantic dream.

A further hour of speeches, champagne and exquisite food later, the orchestra struck a chord. Growing more tense by the second, Elena watched as Gabriel and Gemma took the floor. According to tradition she and Nick were up next.

Nick held out one large, tanned and scarred hand. “I think that’s our cue.”

Elena took his hand, tensing at the tingling heat of his touch, the faint abrasion of calluses gained on construction sites and while indulging his other passion: sailing.

One hand settled at her waist, drawing her in close at the first sweeping step of a waltz. Elena’s breath hitched in her throat as her breasts brushed his chest. Stiffening slightly, she pulled back, although it was hard to enjoy dancing, which she loved, when maintaining a rigid distance.

Nick sent her a neutral glance. “You should relax.”

Another couple who had just joined the general surge onto the floor danced too close and jostled her.

Nick frowned. “And that’s why.” With easy strength he pulled her closer.

Feeling a little breathless, Elena stared at the tough line of Nick’s jaw and decided to stay there.

“That’s better.”

As Nick twirled her past Gabriel and Gemma, Elena tried to relax. Another hour and she could leave. Tension hit her again at that thought because she would be leaving with Nick, a scenario that ran a little too close to what had taken place six years ago. The music switched to a slower, steamier waltz.

Instead of releasing her, Nick continued to dance, keeping her close. “How long have you known Gemma?”

Heart pounding with the curious, humming excitement of being so close to Nick, Elena forced herself to concentrate on answering his question. “Since I started coming to Dolphin Bay for my vacations when I was seventeen.”

“I remember seeing you on the beach.”

Elena could feel her cheeks warming at the memory of just how much time she used to spend watching Nick on his surfboard or messing around on boats. “I used to read on the beach a lot.”

“But not anymore?”

She steeled herself against the curiosity of his gaze, his sudden unnerving focus. “These days, I have other things to occupy my time.”

He lifted a brow. “Let me guess—a gym membership.”

“Fitness is important.”

“So, what’s behind the sudden transformation?”

Elena stiffened against the urge to blurt out that he had been the trigger. “I simply wanted to make the best of myself.”

They danced beneath a huge, central chandelier, the light flowing across the strong planes and angles of Nick’s face, highlighting the various nicks and scars.

He tucked her in a little closer for a turn. “I liked the color your eyes used to be. They were a pretty sherry brown, you shouldn’t have changed that.”

Elena blinked at the complete unexpectedness of his comment. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

No one else had, including herself. A little breathlessly she made a mental note to go back to clear contacts.

“And what about these?” he growled. His thumb brushed over one lobe then swept upward, tracing the curve of her ear, initiating a white-hot shimmer of heat.

He hooked coiling strands of hair behind one ear to further investigate, his breath washing over the curve of her neck, disarming her even further. “How many piercings?”

Despite her intense concentration on staying in step, Elena wobbled. When she corrected, she was close enough to Nick that she was now pressed lightly against his chest and his thighs brushed hers with every step. “One didn’t seem to be enough, so I got three. On my lobes, that is.”

His gaze sharpened. “There are piercings...elsewhere?”

Her heart thumped at the sudden intensity of his expression, the melting heat in his eyes. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Just one. A navel piercing.”

He was silent for a long, drawn-out moment, in which time the air seemed to thicken as the music took on a slower, slumberous rhythm. A tango.

Nick’s hand tightened on her waist, drawing her infinitesimally closer. “Anything else I should know?”

She drew a quick, shallow breath as the heat from his big body closed around her. The passionate music, which she loved, throbbed, heightening her senses. Her nostrils seemed filled with his scent. The heat from his hand at her waist, his palm locked against hers, burned as if they were locked into some kind of electrical current.

She squashed the insane urge to sway a little closer. Wrong man, wrong place and a totally wrong time to road test this new direction in her life.

The whole point was to change her life, not repeat her old mistake.

Although, the heady thought that she could repeat it, if she wanted, made her mouth go dry. She hadn’t missed the heat in Nick’s gaze, or when he’d pulled her close, that he was semiaroused. “Only if you were my lover, which you’re not.”

“You’ve got a guy.”

She frowned at the flat statement, the slight tightening of his hold. As if in some small way Nick considered that she belonged to him, which was ridiculous. “I date.” Her chin came up. “I’m seeing someone at the moment.”

His gaze narrowed with a mixture of disbelief and displeasure. “Who?”

A small startled thrill shot through her at the sudden notion that Nick didn’t like it one little bit that there was a man in her life, even if the dating was still on a superficial level.

A little drunk on the rush of power that, in a room teeming with beautiful women, she was the center of his attention, she touched her tongue to her top lip. It was a gesture she became aware was an unconscious tease as his focus switched to her mouth.

Abruptly embarrassed, she closed her mouth and stared over Nick’s shoulder at another pair of dancers whirling past. “You won’t know him.”

“Let me guess,” he muttered. “Giorgio.”

Elena blushed at the mistaken conclusion. A conclusion Nick had arrived at because she had deliberately failed to clarify who, exactly, Giorgio was. “Uh—actually, his name is Robert. Robert Corrado.”

There was a stark silence. “You have two guys?”

She wasn’t sure if the two tentative pecks on the mouth she had allowed, and which had been devoid of anything like the electrifying pleasure she had experienced when Nick kissed her, qualified Robert to be her guy. “Just the one.”

Nick’s gaze bored into hers, narrowed and glittering. “So Giorgio’s past history?”

Elena tried to dampen down the addictive little charge of excitement that went through her at Nick’s obvious displeasure. “Giorgio’s my beauty consultant.”

Nick muttered something short and succinct under his breath. Another slow, gliding turn and they were outside on a shadowy patio with the light of the setting sun glowing through palm fronds and gleaming off a limpid pool.

Nick relinquished his hold, his jaw set, his gaze brooding and distinctly irritable. “Is Corrado the one you got the piercings for?”

The question, as if he had every right to expect an answer, made her world tilt again.

She had speculated before, but now she knew.

Nick was jealous.

Five

Elena dragged her gaze from Nick’s and looked out past the pool and the palms to the ocean. Anything to stop the crazy pull of attraction and the dangerous knowledge that Nick really did want her.