Authors: Darah Lace
to you. She was letting you know she likes you for
who you are, and she doesn’t hold your father’s
actions against you.”
“I know.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop,
suddenly tired of trying to hide her feelings. “But
you know me. I’d be bored stiff, talking wedding
plans and all that mushy stuff.”
“And I’m sure painting your toenails is so much
more fun.”
“Depends on who’s painting them for me.”
“Charlotte Reese, don’t—” Melody’s frown
deepened. “It’s Marcus isn’t it? He’ll be there, and
you don’t want to see him. There’s something going
on between you two.”
“For the last time, there isn’t
now
, nor can there
ever be anything between Marcus and me.” If she’d
been confused about anything else that happened in
the garden that night, he’d made that much
perfectly clear. “Besides, I’ve got a paper due and
finals to study for.”
“Couldn’t you put them off for a few hours? You
need a break.”
“I’ve taken too many breaks.”
She hated to disappoint Melody, but keeping up
with social commitments, like this auction, while
trying to obtain her Masters in Psychology had been
difficult. Keeping it a secret hadn’t been any easier.
Not that it was a secret really. It just didn’t fit the
image she’d so carefully cultivated over the years. To
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her acquaintances she was a party girl and a career
student, taking classes at the university for lack of
anything better to do.
But after almost ten years, she was so close to
her goal, she could taste it. She hated to deviate
from her schedule whenever she could help it.
Besides, after not seeing Marcus at all in the last
two months, twice in twenty-four hours would be
more than she could bear.
“Hello, ladies.” Chad, the youngest Preston,
suddenly filled the space between them, draping an
arm over their shoulders. It seemed the Prestons
were everywhere tonight. “You’re both looking
mighty lovely this evening.”
With a raised brow, Charlotte let her gaze roam
the length of him. “You look pretty good yourself.
But then you know that, don’t you?”
He gave her a lopsided grin then turned to
Melody. “Mind if I steal this hellion for a dance? This
party needs shaking up, and I’m thinking she and I
are the ones to do it.”
“Be my guest.”
Chad disentangled himself and held out his
hand. “How about it, darlin’?”
Charlotte didn’t feel much like shaking things
up, but if it saved her from another of Melody’s
lectures, she was all for it. Besides, dancing with
Chad would be another nail in her coffin since the
time she’d come on to him and Marcus witnessed it.
She’d done it, banking on two things. A rumor
that Marcus never pursued women his brothers had
dated. And the hope that Chad wouldn’t accept her
offer because she was the daughter of his company’s
competitor. The gamble had paid off. Chad had
declined, and Marcus had backed off.
She placed her hand in Chad’s. “Let’s show
these people how to party.”
Several songs later, Charlotte found herself
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actually having a good time. Chad had given her a
run for her money swing dancing, then passed her
off to Mitch, who waltzed her in circles until the
room tilted. She laughed at Chad’s ridiculous sense
of humor and Mitch’s dry cynicism. Both men
seemed genuinely friendly as they took turns
dancing with her.
Funny how only six months ago the “Preston
boys” had treated her with open disdain. It wasn’t
until her father’s arrest and Melody’s engagement to
Spencer that they began to see her differently. All,
except Marcus.
When she once more found herself passed off to
Chad, she adjusted to his rhythm and let her gaze
wander over those surrounding the dance floor. She
wasn’t looking for
him
. She really wasn’t. But there
he was anyway, Snow White still clinging to his side
as she had all evening, smiling at him with
unmistakable adoration.
Charlotte looked away. If he was going to fall for
that infant, she wasn’t going to stick around and
watch. It was time to make her exit.
As if on cue, the music reached a crescendo.
Chad matched it, ending with a flourish of spins that
left her dizzy and grasping his arm. She laughed
despite her dejected state and, uncertain of her
balance, let him lead her off the floor. When he came
to a sudden halt, she stumbled past him and into a
very masculine chest.
Her laughter died in her throat as strong fingers
closed around her upper arms and the familiar scent
of pine and musk surrounded her. She lifted her
gaze from equally familiar shoulders to green eyes
that grew dark like the deepest forest as they
focused on her breasts, mashed solidly against his
chest, threatening to spill from her jacket.
“Nice to...” he cleared his throat “...see you
again, Charlotte.”
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Heat crept up Charlotte’s neck to flood her
cheeks as Marcus set her on her feet and stepped
back. Geez, she hadn’t blushed in...well, in years.
Not since she’d walked in on her father’s chauffeur—
the object of her thirteen-year-old infatuation—and
the upstairs maid getting it on in the pool house.
She could barely pull two thoughts together
much less form a sarcastic or witty reply—
something her reputation demanded. Just when she
thought her humiliation couldn’t get any worse, she
heard Chad say, “It’s your turn to take Charlotte for
a spin.”
He made her sound like a sports car being test-
driven. So much for thinking they were beginning to
see her differently. Then again, it was probably for
the best if she maintained the fast image she’d
managed to build over the years.
She brushed her fingers through her hair and
forced a laugh. “Now, Chad, you know as well as I do
Marcus is too stuffy to know how it’s done.”
“That’s not true.” Snow White’s fingers curled
possessively around Marcus’s arm. “I can tell you
from experience he knows exactly how it’s done.”
Charlotte met Marcus’s preoccupied gaze,
doubtful he’d even
heard
the
girl’s
subtle
insinuation. “Congratulations. I haven’t had the
pleasure myself.”
Hearing the word
pleasure
in Charlotte’s throaty
voice jarred Marcus from his stupor and sent a rush
of blood south, a direction it seemed to take
whenever he saw her. Hell, who was he kidding? It
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happened at the mere thought of her.
He thought he’d pulled himself together since
almost caving in to her allure earlier. Natalie had
been a good distraction, but when Charlotte collided
with his chest and he’d been face to...breast..with
her, all coherent brain activity vanished.
He tore his gaze from her satiny blonde mane.
“Nat, I’d like you to meet Charlotte Reese. Charlotte,
this is Natalie Weaver.”
Charlotte smiled. “It’s nice to meet you,
Natalie.”
Natalie frowned. “Hmm, that name sounds so
familiar.”
“Charlotte’s a popular gal.” Chad draped an arm
around her shoulders, hugging her close. “Aren’t
you, darlin’?”
Though Marcus had his own opinions on
Charlotte’s popularity, he appreciated his brother’s
attempt to spare her embarrassment. What he didn’t
appreciate was the familiarity with which Chad
handled her. Not that she seemed to mind. Come to
think of it, they’d been awfully cozy on the dance
floor. His gut twisted at the idea of something going
on between them.
Natalie gasped. “Isn’t your father the one—”
“C’mon Nat.” Chad released Charlotte and
grabbed Natalie’s free hand. “It’s time for you and
me to cut a rug.”
“But—”
Natalie’s protest was cut off as Marcus
relinquished her to his brother’s timely intervention.
He frowned after them, still not certain whether he
wanted to thank Chad or beat the hell out of him. A
glance at Charlotte as she struggled to hold her
smile in place told Marcus he would be thanking
Chad later.
“She’s young, Charlotte. She doesn’t know tact
yet.”
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“It doesn’t matter. I’m used to it.” She lifted her
chin and tossed her head, causing pale strands to
cascade over her shoulders like a waterfall of
moonlight. God, he loved her hair. “See you around,
Marcus.”
“Wait.” He reached to stop her but pulled back
short of touching her. He still hadn’t apologized. “I
thought we were going to dance?”
One corner of her lips curled upward. “Don’t
worry. You’re off the hook.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that I know how hard it is for you to
pretend and that there’s no one around to tell on you
if you’re not nice to me.”
Damn. Apologizing now would be futile if she
thought he only did so to honor a promise to Melody.
Yet somehow he had to try. “That’s not why I asked
you to dance.”
“I don’t recall you actually asking.”
“No. I didn’t. But I am now.” He forced himself
to meet her confident blue gaze. “Would you dance
with me, Charlotte?”
She seemed to consider his question, as if trying
to guess his ulterior motive, then finally shrugged. “I
guess we should. If only to make Melody happy.”
Marcus supposed he deserved her indifference
after the last time they’d been together, but it sure
played havoc with his ego. Though by all accounts,
he should be accustomed to it. She never failed to
make him feel lame and uninteresting.
He took her by the elbow and led her onto the
dimly lit dance floor before she changed her mind. A
fast two-step played, a Texas swing, conducive to
keeping intimacy at a minimum. However, as he
swung her around the room it also made
conversation impossible.
Then again, he needed a moment to get over the
feel of having her so near. He held one soft slender
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Darah Lace
hand. The other rested on his shoulder, her fingers
near the collar of his shirt within twining distance of
his hair. Her own silky blonde tresses flew out
behind her as they twirled the corners, then settled
against her back during the straight-aways so the
ends tickled his hand at her waist. Her spicy
fragrance danced around him, reminding him of that
night in the garden and how it had mingled with her
own scent as she writhed under his touch.
Damn, now he’d done it. Gone and worked
himself up into a fine state with a hard-on to prove
it.
He looked to see if she had any idea what she
did to him and let out of long breath of relief. As
usual, she seemed aware of everything but him. He
glanced lower to make sure his embarrassing state
wasn’t as obvious as it felt, but his gaze stalled at
the curve of her breasts at the opening of her jacket.
He swallowed hard as the garment’s only button
pulled against the eyehole and wondered how much
resistance it could withstand with all the twists and
turns her body made before it popped open. If he
were to...
The music stopped before his thoughts could
lead him into mischief or before he slammed into
everyone in their path.
Charlotte stepped out of his arms and pushed
her hair back. It fell forward again, one strand
curling inside the vee of her jacket between her
breasts. He envied that curl, wishing he could
replace it with his lips.
“Snow White was right. You certainly know
what you’re doing. At least on the dance floor.”
“Who?”
Her pink tongue slid out to wet full, red lips.
“Your friend. Natalie was it?”
“Oh, yeah, Nat.” Marcus wanted to pound his
head against a wall. How was he going to get
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