He whispered the playful suggestion disturbingly close to my ear just before shifting his hand to the small of my back and nudging me onto the spiral staircase ahead of him. I could feel the imprint of every finger all over again, and the spark of adrenaline had me shooting up the stairs ahead of him. Knowing his head was on level with my ass all the way up had me quickening further still.
6
In which “enchanted” gets upgraded to “full-out captivated”
Large round tables were packed efficiently into the tight space, and just past the shiny square of dance floor, the band was playing a slightly modern version of “The Way You Look Tonight” to an appreciative couples crowd. Within seconds, Sean had my hand tucked fittingly in his and a spot for us among the dancers. A tiny spot, just big enough for one person to stand comfortably—he was very close. Body parts were getting acquainted.
“You’re not here with someone, are you?” Before I could answer him firmly in the negative, he was tightening his grip on my waist and leaning down to speak close in my ear. “Could get a tad awkward, explaining just how we met ...”
As he pulled back, his eyes darting sideways to meet mine, I finally found my voice.
“No. I’m here by myself, and I thought that subject was officially closed.” I lifted a single eyebrow, both in question and warning.
“You’re right. No more talk of escapee fungus. A fellow proponent of the ‘less talk, more action’ philosophy. Excellent.”
Oh. My. God. My synapses were slogging along here, unable to keep up with this man and his wealth of innuendo. Generally speaking I knew how to deal with men—I’d had plenty of practice walking the tightrope between “just friends” and the uncomfortable beyond. But this was definitely falling.
I was aware of every little brush of his body against mine—solid male against cowardly custard. Closing my eyes, I took a deep, calming breath and smelled peppermint, laundry soap, and spicy aftershave. It had been a long time since I’d been this close to a man. My grip tightened reflexively on his shoulder as I realized I’d really like to hang on to him for a little while.
My eyes were drifting closed in contentment when I noticed the little pewter pin flush against his collar. I inched closer, up on my toes now, to get a better look. It was an archer’s arm encircled with some sort of belt and words that weren’t English. I let go of him long enough to run my finger curiously over the pin’s surface. His fingers tightened at my waist, and his head tipped down to watch me. Self-conscious, I licked my lips, suddenly struck by an almost irresistible urge to lick his too, to just do it.
The little angel and I were tight, but I wasn’t used to having a devil on my other shoulder, throwing a kink in the works. What was I
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to regroup. The man was a stranger, for God’s sake. The last thing I needed was to be fantasizing about his lips. Never mind that I’d been doing it with a vengeance ever since he’d whispered in my ear and they’d skimmed hot on my skin. It didn’t matter—I planned to adopt the Las Vegas slogan for the entire evening: What happened at the wedding, stayed at the wedding.
That solution sounded stellar until the little devil spoke up again, reminding me that we were still
“What does it say?” I asked, glancing again at the little pewter pin and hoping to distract myself from further absurdity.
The man spoke Gaelic—at least a little. As sexy goes, it was a major draw.
“Do you wear it all the time?”
“Not when I’m naked.”
My entire body went on full alert as I began to picture this eventuality, and there was suddenly a free-for-all in my head, with loud and urgent voices spouting off all kinds of inappropriate suggestions. “Can I arrange a viewing?” was my personal favorite.
“With Sean meanin’ ‘God’s gift’ and MacInnes ‘Unique One,’ it’s a lot to live up to.” It was impossible to tell from his grin whether he was teasing or serious.
I stared up at him, gaping probably, before my mouth eventually curved into the smile I reserved for that irresistible cockiness only certain guys could pull off. At that moment our song ended and was immediately followed by an up-tempo, brassy, big-band number. Giving Sean a sharp little shake of my head to warn that I wasn’t at all up for swing dancing, we stepped off the dance floor, our fingers still entwined.
It felt as if my temporary fantasy was in a fuzzy, in-between, about-to-change-back-to-reality limbo. Instinct had me turning toward the stairs, pulling him along behind me as we spiraled our way back down.
In the darker, quieter calm of downstairs, I turned to face him with a catch in my throat. “Thank you for the dance—and your help with a certain never-to-be-mentioned mushroom incident. Now, when I snap my fingers, you will remember none of this, particularly the search and rescue.” I caught his eye and snapped my fingers.
He let his eyes, twinkling with amusement, roam around the little castle, seemed to be considering, and eventually leaned down toward me.
I skittishly angled my lips away from his, just in case, but the closer he came, the more tingly I felt. And the devil was starting to get very persuasive ... Before I could do anything truly mortifying, his voice settled over me, that lilting, lazy accent skittering up my spine.
“You’ve a bit of a thing for me, don’t you?”
He pulled back just in time to avoid my head whipping around in shock. I stared wide-eyed at those long, long lashes curling around sparkling eyes, taking in his raised eyebrows and quirked lips. I couldn’t answer. Denying it now would come off as childish, cranky, and patently untrue. Much as I hated to admit it, I kinda
Besides, I was pretty sure it had been a rhetorical question, so I’d match him with one of my own.
“Do you have one for me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“You don’t even know me.” I’d intended this to come out with just an edge of attitude, but he was so messing with my head that it came off embarrassingly coy. This had to stop.
“True, it’s early going yet, but so far I’m smitten.” Placing his hand on my elbow, he led me toward a private alcove, limned in candlelight.
“So far? You mean after our shared participation in an awkward mushroom incident and one casual dance.”
“I don’t think either of us believes it was casual.”
I shot him a vaguely concerned glance before letting my eyes settle on the pewter pin once more. “What part of Scotland?”
“Near the Isle of Skye, if you know where that is.”
With a soaring, overly optimistic feeling of possibility, I wondered if he could be one of the expatriots who’d come over from Scotland’s Silicon Glen to work in Austin’s semiconductor sprawl. Maybe underneath it all, he was a geek at heart.
“Why Austin?” I was fishing.
“It’s the Live Music Capital of the World.”
I held my smile in place expectantly, waiting for the rest. But it wasn’t forthcoming.
