Sara Orwig - Platinum Grooms - Pregnant at the Wedding

She had to get him out of her life, and the sooner, the better. Memories of his kisses taunted her as her gaze drifted over his features. When his attention lowered to her mouth, her breath caught.

“You ran out on me,” he said, steadily watching her.

“Yes, well, that weekend was a mistake I’ve regretted terribly.”

“Ouch! You didn’t seem so unhappy at the time,” he said, studying her.

“It was uncharacteristic for me. I’ve never … never let go like that. Frankly, I’m working, and I’d rather not discuss it,” she said, wishing her voice was firmer, too aware of each time their legs brushed.

“You look as beautiful as I remember,” he said in his deep voice, and she grew warmer, pleased in spite of her concerns.

“How many women have you said that to recently?” she asked. “Look, I need—”

“No, you don’t. The reception is going great and the bride and groom are having a blast. Relax and enjoy a dance with me. Uncharacteristic or not, why did you run out like that?”

“I just told you the reason. I meant it.”

“Then you had a big change of heart, because for forty-eight hours, we got along great. The best,” he said in a deeper voice, and she knew he was remembering when they had made love.

“That’s over,” she said. Ashley wondered where the firmness in her voice had gone and why he had such a potent effect on her.

“You don’t say,” he murmured. “I hunted for you, but there wasn’t any A. Smith, wedding planner listed in the phone book.”

“I don’t have a landline,” she said, thinking how civilized they were behaving. At the same time, she was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run from him.

“And here my buddy Jake hired you and has been working with you.”

“Actually, I’ve worked more with Emily.”

“Maybe, but Jake knew about you. It never occurred to me to ask him about his wedding planner. I’m not into weddings much.”

“You made that clear at the time,”

He grinned. “At least you haven’t forgotten me.”

“That’s impossible,” she snapped, and one of his dark eyebrows arched in question.

“Why do I get the feeling that there is something wrong here?” he asked her with an intense scrutiny that worried her.

“Because something is the matter. I told you that I’m working. I shouldn’t be dancing.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said, and she looked away, thinking he was far too perceptive. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.

She was acutely conscious of their physical contact, her hand in his warm hand, her other hand on his shoulder while they moved together. She looked up at him, hating that each time she gazed into his eyes, her heartbeat quickened.

“Look, that weekend we had is over.” He spun her around and danced her into a corner. “I’ve moved on with my life,” she added.

“I don’t usually strike out like this,” he said, still studying her. “I want to talk to you,” he stated in a low voice, drawing her nearer to him.

“Look, I need—”

“I thought we both had a great time. I got the impression that you were as happy with the situation as I was.”

“I told you, I sort of lost myself that weekend,” she said, as she wriggled away from him, taking a step back to put more distance between them. Even still, he was too close. His mouth was only inches from hers. Half of her wanted to stand on tiptoe and kiss him, and the other half wanted to break and run. The sensible half needed to get away, and she tried to concentrate on doing that as quickly as possible. What was it about him that scrambled her cool logic so badly?

“I thought our time together was fantastic, and I’ve missed you and searched for you,” he insisted in a thicker voice that turned her insides to jelly.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, remembering her reasons for wanting to avoid him, determined to end the conversation. “I may have ruffled your ego, but I’ve seen pictures of you—just recently with a gorgeous redhead on your arm. You haven’t been pining away, without me. It’s over. You may not be accustomed to hearing that, but get it through your head.”

“You’re saying it’s over,” he replied, “but what’s wrong with renewing our acquaintance?” He took her wrist once more, and she knew he could feel her revealing heartbeat.

“If that makes you happy, I’ll admit that I physically respond to you. But I have a job to do now.”

“This is a big puzzle,” he said, moving nearer again and wrapping his arm around her waist. Her gaze lowered to his full and sensual lips, and she remembered his fantastic kisses.

“I can see from your big blue eyes that you haven’t forgotten that weekend. I don’t think you regret it as much as you’re saying,” he added softly.

“Oh, yes, I do!” she whispered, knowing she should walk away from him. But she simply stood there, mesmerized by his intense gaze. He was looking at her as if she were the only woman on earth.

“Okay, you’re working now. When this is over, go to dinner with me and let’s talk. Surely you can give me that much of your time,” he said with a faint smile.

Ashley paused, unable to tell him a lie, yet wanting to.

“There,” he said, as if she’d already agreed. “If I thought I was being intrusive and you couldn’t stand me, I wouldn’t insist, but you’re as breathless as I am.” His rich, deep voice was as tangible as a caress. “If nothing else, let’s go to dinner and see what happens.”

“Nothing will occur.”

His eyebrow arched wickedly. “You don’t know that for sure. Let my imagination have its own good time. When are you through working this reception?”

“When the bride and groom leave. My assistant is here, and the cleanup crew are experienced and know what to do.”

“Great! So you’ll go with me then.”

“I don’t see any point—”

“There’s a definite point,” he said. “It makes me incredibly happy. You won’t shatter my ego—”

She received a wide grin from him that tempted her to respond. “That’s impossible.”

“Ah, I think I see a glimmer of a smile,” he said, leaning down to peer at her.

“Now you’ve gotten your way,” she replied.

“Only about dinner,” he said. “There’s a whole lot more I want.”

Ashley drew a deep breath. The way he pulled on her senses was irresistible, magnetic. She had no control over how her body responded. She couldn’t understand her own reactions. He was so unreservedly autocratic, yet at the same time charismatic …

“I need to return to work.”

“You do recall our weekend together?” he asked softly. “It was one of the best I ever had.”

“It was a long time ago,” she said stiffly. “I’m going back to work.” She turned toward the dance floor and he hurried after her, holding her arm as they joined the other guests.

“I need to see about the bride,” she told him.

“I’ll find you when they leave.”

“Fine. I’ll be around,” she said.

“You sound as if I’m going to haul you to jail instead of take you to dinner,” he added lightly. Yet he gazed at her intently, and she could see the curiosity in his expression.

She realized the more she tried to get rid of him, the more interested he became. “I think you’re unaccustomed to hearing no.”

“I have to admit that I’m curious why. We can talk about it later. Go do what you have to do now.”

“I see you two know each other,” Nick Colton said, joining them and turning to Ashley. “And I saw you dancing with Ryan. Now I’d like a turn.” He moved forward to place himself between the pair.

Just as she was about to decline, Ryan moved closer, putting a possessive arm around her shoulder. “We’re very old and good friends. Ashley really can’t dance while she’s on the job. You’re out of luck this time.”