If I Can't Have You (21 page)

He pushed from the table and pulled her chair back. With his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, he bent over and whispered into her ear. “All you have to do is hold me tight, Adriana, and let me lead the way.”

Dancing, in Trevor’s
mind
, was the closest thing to making love. Holding a woman was heaven. Guiding a woman, moving rhythmically together to the gentle strains of soft, sweet music or the passionate crescendos that came hard and fast took his breath away. Just pulling Adriana close and leading her to the dance floor was like lifting her in his arms and carrying her to his bed. Her fingers trembled, she was hesitant, she looked at him with confusion, a mixture of want and desire and just a hint of wonder.

Slowly he guided one of her hands to his shoulder, the other he tucked close to his chest. Only twice before had they stood just inches apart, and both times she’d looked at him with frightened eyes, like a lamb facing a lion, wondering when it would be devoured.

Those times he’d been crazed. He’d acted like a madman.

But not this time. This time he wanted her. This time he needed her, and he knew it showed in the depth of his eyes.

“This isn’t so bad,” he whispered. “Is it?”

She shook her head. “I’ll probably step on your feet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just hold me tight and don’t take your eyes off mine.”

Her back felt soft and smooth and cool under his hand, and he guided her closer, gently gathering her against his body. He could feel the slow rise and fall of her breasts as they lightly grazed his chest. The warmth of her breath against his neck sent a slow burning desire through his body, inflaming his heart and his soul.

He might miss many of the things about the life he’d lived before, but he realized that his life would mean nothing—no matter what decade he was in—if Adriana wasn’t beside him.

Sliding his hand farther around her waist, he swayed with her in his arms, not even bothering to move his feet.

“You’re not dancing,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling with just a touch of mirth. “Isn’t the object to move around the dance floor?”

“One step at a time, Adriana, and this is the first one.”

“Do we have to move on to the second?”

He teased her ear lightly with his lips, and whispered, “Each step is just a little nicer. But let’s not rush. I’m in no hurry—no hurry at all.”

He inhaled the sweet fragrance of her perfume, marveling at the feel of soft skin against his rougher face. He’d held women close before, women just as soft, just as sweet-smelling, but he’d never ached with want the way he did right now. His heart had never thundered in his chest. His mind had never thought beyond the moment, but right now he was thinking of how it would be to grow old with this woman, teaching her something new every day of their lives.

Slowly he pressed his right leg against her left one,
and just as slowly she moved with his lead. Left foot forward, right foot back. A slight turn to the right. A little sway. Right foot back, and she followed him. With each movement he held her closer, with each step she relaxed a little more, until they were dancing cheek to cheek, breast to chest, hip to hip, perfectly in sync as if they’d been designed to be two parts of a whole.

He hummed softly to the tune the band was playing, vaguely remembering the way Fred Astaire had sung the song to Ginger Rogers in
Swing Time.
He couldn’t quite remember the words, but he gave them a shot, singing them softly in Adriana’s ear. “When the world is cold and I’m awfully low, I will feel a glow just thinking of you...”

‘I didn’t know you could sing,” Adriana whispered when Trevor went back to humming.

“I can’t, and no one ever asked me to.”

“I liked it,” she said with a faraway smile.

He pressed his hand against her back again, at the same time his right leg pressed her left, and hummed more of “The Way You Look Tonight,” thinking how perfect the words he had remembered were. He did feel a glow while thinking of Adriana, and dancing had never felt so wonderful, even though she’d stepped on his toes a time or two.

“I’m beginning to think you lied to me, Adriana.”

“About what?”

“The fact that you’ve never danced.”

“But I haven’t. This is the first time.”

“No one would ever know.” He tilted his head to see her face. “It’s a shame you’ve never tried before. I think you were made to dance.”

She smiled softly. “Do you think so?”

“It’s either that, or you were made to be in my arms.”

She laughed lightly. “And how many women have you fed that line to?”

It wasn’t a line—not this time. How could she ever believe that, though, when all anyone had ever known about him was his playboy image. He’d hidden behind that facade for a long time, using it to mask the anguish of not knowing how to love.

He didn’t want to hide anymore.

“I deserve that, but I want you to know, Adriana, that everything I say to you is true. No one else ever felt the way you do. I never felt this way, either, like I could hold you forever.”

Under his fingers he could feel her muscles tense. He felt her pulling away, but he pressed his hand against the small of her back and held her close. “Believe in me, Adriana. Please believe in me.”

He swept her around the floor, holding her tight, his gaze locked on hers. Around and around the room, in and out, between other couples, until the music slowed again and he just stood with her in the middle of the dance floor and swayed.

“Why do you find it so hard to believe that I could care for you?”

She attempted to turn away, but he captured her cheek with the gentle touch of his hand.

‘Tell me.”

“I read somewhere that you’d seduced a thousand women.”

Trevor grinned at her words. “Oh, at least that many.” He winked. “Maybe more.”

Once again he kept her from pulling away. He’d meant to tease, but apparently she hadn’t understood. Damn! He was making a mess of everything.

“A lot of things have been written about me. A lot of truths. A lot of half-truths. I can’t justify anything I did back then.”

“Just tell me the truth now, Trevor. Are you trying to seduce me, too?”

“Yes. I won’t
lie
about that. I want you, Adriana.
But you’re not the least bit ready, and I’m not in any rush.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, and he rested his cheek against hers.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Just like dancing, we’ll take everything one step at a time.”

He held her close, losing himself in the music, the softness of her body, his thoughts about his past, about the future, and where Adriana fit into his life.

They were so much alike, both afraid to commit to a relationship. Just like him, she’d never been in love. Could he change all that? God, he hoped so.

But how could she possibly fall in love with a self-centered man whose parents had disowned him, a man who’d never been taught the first thing about loving, a man who’d found liquor to be the best companion and something that would never turn him away or leave him lonely?

He gathered her closer, and she tilted her head and smiled with trusting eyes before resting her cheek once more against his.

He could change his ways. He could try, at least. He’d do just about anything for this soft, love
starved woman who’d crawled into his heart and made it swell to the point he thought his chest might burst.

He swept his hands over the curve of her spine, swirled with her around the room, and hoped she’d bear with him while he tried to mend his ways.

Softly, he kissed her temple, and when the beat turned Latin and the rhythm of the dance suddenly changed, he led her back to the table, her hand gripped tightly in his.

“Why didn’t you ever marry?” she asked, taking him completely by surprise as he poured champagne into his glass and hers. “Weren’t you ever in love?”

“I was always in love.” He ignored the look of
shock on her face. She’d asked the question, and he intended to answer.

“There were too many women around to fall in love with only one. Some liked to dance, some liked to swim, some liked to go to bullfights in Mexico. I was in love with whoever matched my mood at the moment, and no one ever seemed to care that when my disposition changed I’d move on to someone else.”

“I don’t believe any of it. I don’t understand why no one ever fell in love with you.”

If she’d been around in the thirties, she would have known why no one had fallen in love with him. He intended to tell her, and then he planned to show her that he was different now, that she was the turning point in his life.

“I went to Hollywood to become a star, and I didn’t let anything interfere with that goal. At times I worked seven days a week, maybe eighteen hours a day. I didn’t want a wife sitting at home waiting for me when I might never show up. I didn’t want children that I’d probably ignore. Most of the actors and actresses I knew felt the same way.”

“A lot of them married.”

“And got divorced, too. That’s not my style. Getting married means you stay married, for better or worse. If I’d gotten married, I’m afraid the ‘worse’ part of the vow would have been at the forefront, and that’s not fair to anybody.”

“What about now? You have a whole new life ahead of you.”

“Do I?” he asked, suddenly realizing that as much as he wanted Adriana, he could be ripped away from her without warning. He could be lonely again.

“Of course you do. You’re the best actor who ever lived—”

“Don’t stretch the truth. I was a good actor, not the best.”

“In my eyes no one ever compared with you. A talent like yours is something you never lose. You could start again. Get an agent, some acting jobs.”

H
e didn’t want to start over again. He’d been a star. He’d spent eighteen years climbing from errand boy to Oscar winner.

He took a sip of champagne, wishing he’d substituted the sweet, bubbly stuff with bourbon or scotch, anything to drown out the thought of being a nobody once more.

She reached across the table and placed a warm hand on his. “You told me to believe in you. I do, Trevor, but you have to believe in yourself. You can have everything if you want it.”

“I do want everything. I want the best parts of my old life and the best parts of this new one, but what if there’s no future for me? I’ve been ripped out of one decade and forced into another. It could happen again at any time. Hell, Adriana, I don’t even know if I’ll have another tomorrow with you.”

He poured more champagne, drinking it down just as fast as he could pour it out, then called to the waiter and ordered another bottle. Adriana frowned, and he realized immediately that changing his life wasn’t as easy as making a wish and having it all come true.

“Adriana, darlin’!”

A petite, flame-haired beauty swept up behind Adriana and wrapped her in feathered arms.

“What a surprise,” the woman gushed. “Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to run into you here.”

Adriana’s eyes brightened when she hugged the woman. The lady was wrapped tightly in glimmering yellow cloth that stretched over vivacious curves, and with the amount of feathers covering her arms and bosom Trevor thought for sure she could take off and fly. She looked a lot like Big Bird, the
strange-looking creature he’d seen when he’d spent two hours playing with that contraption that controlled Adriana’s television set.

Behind the woman stood the somber gentleman Trevor remembered too well: Stewart Rosenblum.

“Good evening.” Trevor pushed up from the table and extended his hand to Stewart.

The woman was fascinating and gay; Stewart was dour, his gaze analyzing Trevor’s attire, Adriana’s, and the bottle of champagne on the table.
Charming gentleman,
Trevor thought sarcastically.

“You haven’t met my wife,” Stewart said, giving Trevor a quick, polite handshake. “Trevor Montgomery, may I introduce you to Maggie Rosenblum.”

“Oh, my,” Maggie chortled, gazing from Trevor to Adriana, then back again. “You’ve landed yourself an absolutely heavenly creature, Adriana.”