Cynthia Rutledge - Rich, Rugged...Royal

“Tom Alvarez.” Clarice’s brows drew together. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Lauren sighed. Tom had lived in St. Louis for several years and Clarice had met him on more than one occasion. Apparently he hadn’t been high enough on the social ladder to warrant remembering. “He’s Christy Warner’s publicist.”

“Of course.” Clarice smiled. She certainly remembered the popular motivational speaker and her husband. “You should call Christy. Or David. I’m sure they’d help you track him down.”

“No way.” On this, Lauren would brook no argument.

Four years ago David Warner had been the man Lauren had planned to marry. Then, on a weekend trip to Las Vegas, he’d married his old high-school girlfriend on a whim. Lauren had long since forgiven them both and they were now all friends, but the last thing she wanted was for Christy or David to think she was so desperate she’d chase after a man who hadn’t cared enough to ask for her number.

No, she may have behaved foolishly this weekend, but she was no fool.

“What does this mystery man do for a living?” her mother asked.

Lauren took a bite of dessert, getting an odd sense of satisfaction from knowing she was about to burst her mother’s bubble. “He’s unemployed.”

The excitement in her mother’s eyes dimmed but a flicker of hope remained. “Independently wealthy?”

Alex had driven her to the airport in a late-eighties Buick. Lauren smiled wryly and shook her head.

“Deadbeats.” Clarice shook her head in disgust. “They’re everywhere. Well, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over the guy. He was probably married, anyway.”

“He’s not married,” Lauren said. She’d always believed marriage vows were sacred. That’s why she’d checked out his ring finger when he’d asked her to dance. And when he’d accompanied her up to her room, she’d asked him point blank.

“Don’t get in a huff.” Her mother took a sip of her coffee. “Most good-looking men are married. It’s a fact of life.”

“He’s not married.” Lauren’s self-control snapped. “I would never have been with him if he was.”

“Been with him?” Clarice stopped stirring the cream into her coffee and lifted a perfectly arched brow. “You were intimate with this man?”

Lauren’s cheeks burned under her mother’s suddenly curious gaze but she did her best to act nonchalant. “Goodness, no. We danced a couple of times. Had a few drinks and talked.”

Though Lauren had never been much of an actress, she must have been successful because disappointment skittered across her mother’s face. “That’s all?”

“What?” Lauren’s voice rose. “You think I should have slept with the guy?”

“I wouldn’t have faulted you if you had.” Her mother lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “I wanted you to have a nice weekend. If that included a little fling with a handsome man, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

If that included a little fling, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.

Lauren pressed her lips together and pulled into the driveway to her town house. She’d beaten herself up for behaving recklessly while her mother obviously saw nothing wrong with it.

Of course, that should have come as no surprise. Her mother had always been into living for the moment and doing what felt good. Though Lauren had always abhorred that philosophy, last weekend she’d embraced it with a passion that still made her blush.

And it had been surprisingly easy.

All it had taken was one look across a crowded ballroom….

Lauren’s lips lifted in a slight smile and she raised her glass in a mock salute. She’d noticed the man earlier on the dance floor. The first time, he’d been chatting with a perky blonde with an irritating laugh. The second with Joni Alvarez, who’d smiled a greeting at Lauren as she’d whirled past in his arms.

Lauren had been intrigued but didn’t think he’d even noticed her. Until her gaze had scanned the ballroom later in the evening and she’d found him staring. A shiver traveled up her spine as he handed his empty glass to a waiter and started across the room.

In a matter of seconds he was at her side.

“Care to dance?” His husky voice kicked her heart into high gear.

Lauren lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug and set her drink on a table. “Why not?”

The minute he took her hand and pulled her close she realized her mistake. Just being in his arms made Lauren’s blood run hot and her body ache with longing. And judging from the desire flickering in his eyes, he wasn’t immune to their close proximity, either.

They danced together for three songs, before Lauren made her excuses and said goodbye. The way she was feeling, staying any longer would be dangerous.

Lauren exited the Grand Ballroom, crossed the hotel lobby and headed for the elevators. She decided it had to be the wedding that had stirred up all these disturbing feelings of…well…lust.

Sara Michaels, one of her friends from St. Louis, had sung at the wedding and the songs of love had stirred up feelings Lauren normally kept deeply buried. It hadn’t helped that at the reception everybody seemed to have someone. Everybody except her.

She sighed and reached for the elevator button.

“Let me get that,” a familiar deep voice murmured.

Lauren glanced up and her eyes widened in surprise. The last she’d seen Alex, he’d been surrounded by several young women who seemed to be hanging on his every word. “Are you calling it a night, too?”

“I’m not staying at the hotel,” he said.

The elevator door opened and he waved his hand for her to precede him, then followed. “I just thought it’d be a good idea if I walked you to your room.”

Lauren frowned. She may have laughed a lot when they were dancing, but she’d only had a couple of glasses of wine and was totally sober. “I can make it to my room on my own just fine. I don’t need an escort.”

“I didn’t say you did.” He shot her a wink. “This is solely for my pleasure.”

Though she liked being with him, liked talking to him, Lauren wasn’t sure having him walk her to her room was a good idea.

“You know, if it makes any difference, I don’t bite.”

His grin was so infectious that Lauren couldn’t help but play along. The door slid shut and Lauren punched her floor. “How can I be certain of that?”

“Because—” he took a step closer “—if I did bite, I would have taken a nibble or two out of you on the dance floor.”

Without a word of warning, he moved closer and his fingers delved through the warm, silky mass at the nape of her neck and his thumbs grazed the soft skin beneath her jaw.

Her breath caught in her throat. Time seemed suspended as their gazes met, his reflecting the same flare of heat that burned in her veins.

“I want to walk you to your room,” he said again.

Lauren drew a steadying breath and shook her head. She wasn’t sure she trusted him. Or was it herself? “You’re way too—”

“Irresistible?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of persistent.” The elevator door opened on her floor and she moved forward onto the plush carpet.

Alex stepped off the elevator and the door closed behind him. “Everyone has a few faults.”

“Being impulsive has never been one of mine,” she said.

He picked up her hand and drew a lazy pattern on her palm with his index finger. “I’d give up if you told me to get lost.”

His touch made it difficult for Lauren to breathe, much less think clearly. “I’m not sure—”

“Maybe this will help you decide.”

He tugged her toward him, reached with his right hand to pull her chin up and covered her mouth with his own.