Just One More Night. Fiona BrandЧитать онлайн книгу.
Nick terminated his conversation and turned back to her, his gaze settling on her, narrowed and intent. “Looks like our ride is here.”
Elena’s heart thumped once, hard, as Nick’s words spun her back to their conversation on the sidewalk in Auckland. The breath locked in her throat as she finally allowed the knowledge that Nick was genuinely attracted to her to sink in. More, that he had been attracted to her six years ago, before she had changed her appearance.
The knowledge that he had wanted her even when she had been a little overweight and frumpy was difficult to process. She was absolutely not like the normal run of his girlfriends. It meant that he liked her for herself.
The sudden blinding thought that, if she wanted, she could end the empty years of fruitless and boring dating and make love with Nick sent heat flooding through her.
Nick was making no bones about the fact that he wanted her—
“Are you good to go?”
Elena drew a deep breath and tried to slide back into her professional PA mode. But with Nick looming over her, a smudge of lipstick at the corner of his mouth, it was difficult to focus. “I am, but you’re not.”
Extracting a handkerchief from a small, secret pocket at the waist of her dress, she handed it to him. “You have lipstick on your mouth.”
Taking the handkerchief, he wiped his mouth. “An occupational hazard at weddings.”
When he attempted to give the handkerchief back, she forced a smile. “Keep it. I don’t want it back.”
The last thing she needed was a keepsake to remind her that she had been on the verge of making a second mistake.
Slipping the handkerchief into his trousers’ pocket, he jerked his head in the direction of the limousine. “If you’re ready, looks like the official photo shoot is about to begin.” He sent her a quick, rueful grin. “Don’t know about you, but it’s not exactly my favorite pastime.”
Elena dragged her gaze from Nick’s and the killer charm that she absolutely did not want to be ensnared by. “I have no problem with having my photo taken.”
Not since she had taken one of the intensive courses offered at the health spa. She had been styled and made up by professionals and taught how to angle her face and smile. After two intimidating hours beneath glaring lights, a camera pointed at her face, she had finally conquered her fear of the lens.
* * *
A good thirty minutes later, after posing for endless photographs while the guests sipped champagne and circulated in the grounds of the Dolphin Bay Resort, Elena found herself seated next to Nick at the reception.
Held in a large room, which had been festooned with white roses, glossy dark green foliage and trailing, fragrant jasmine, the wedding was the culmination of a romantic dream.
A further hour of speeches, champagne and exquisite food later, the orchestra struck a chord. Growing more tense by the second, Elena watched as Gabriel and Gemma took the floor. According to tradition she and Nick were up next.
Nick held out one large, tanned and scarred hand. “I think that’s our cue.”
Elena took his hand, tensing at the tingling heat of his touch, the faint abrasion of calluses gained on construction sites and while indulging his other passion: sailing.
One hand settled at her waist, drawing her in close at the first sweeping step of a waltz. Elena’s breath hitched in her throat as her breasts brushed his chest. Stiffening slightly, she pulled back, although it was hard to enjoy dancing, which she loved, when maintaining a rigid distance.
Nick sent her a neutral glance. “You should relax.”
Another couple who had just joined the general surge onto the floor danced too close and jostled her.
Nick frowned. “And that’s why.” With easy strength he pulled her closer.
Feeling a little breathless, Elena stared at the tough line of Nick’s jaw and decided to stay there.
“That’s better.”
As Nick twirled her past Gabriel and Gemma, Elena tried to relax. Another hour and she could leave. Tension hit her again at that thought because she would be leaving with Nick, a scenario that ran a little too close to what had taken place six years ago. The music switched to a slower, steamier waltz.
Instead of releasing her, Nick continued to dance, keeping her close. “How long have you known Gemma?”
Heart pounding with the curious, humming excitement of being so close to Nick, Elena forced herself to concentrate on answering his question. “Since I started coming to Dolphin Bay for my vacations when I was seventeen.”
“I remember seeing you on the beach.”
Elena could feel her cheeks warming at the memory of just how much time she used to spend watching Nick on his surfboard or messing around on boats. “I used to read on the beach a lot.”
“But not anymore?”
She steeled herself against the curiosity of his gaze, his sudden unnerving focus. “These days, I have other things to occupy my time.”
He lifted a brow. “Let me guess—a gym membership.”
“Fitness is important.”
“So, what’s behind the sudden transformation?”
Elena stiffened against the urge to blurt out that he had been the trigger. “I simply wanted to make the best of myself.”
They danced beneath a huge, central chandelier, the light flowing across the strong planes and angles of Nick’s face, highlighting the various nicks and scars.
He tucked her in a little closer for a turn. “I liked the color your eyes used to be. They were a pretty sherry brown, you shouldn’t have changed that.”
Elena blinked at the complete unexpectedness of his comment. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
No one else had, including herself. A little breathlessly she made a mental note to go back to clear contacts.
“And what about these?” he growled. His thumb brushed over one lobe then swept upward, tracing the curve of her ear, initiating a white-hot shimmer of heat.
He hooked coiling strands of hair behind one ear to further investigate, his breath washing over the curve of her neck, disarming her even further. “How many piercings?”
Despite her intense concentration on staying in step, Elena wobbled. When she corrected, she was close enough to Nick that she was now pressed lightly against his chest and his thighs brushed hers with every step. “One didn’t seem to be enough, so I got three. On my lobes, that is.”
His gaze sharpened. “There are piercings...elsewhere?”
Her heart thumped at the sudden intensity of his expression, the melting heat in his eyes. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Just one. A navel piercing.”
He was silent for a long, drawn-out moment, in which time the air seemed to thicken as the music took on a slower, slumberous rhythm. A tango.
Nick’s hand tightened on her waist, drawing her infinitesimally closer. “Anything else I should know?”
She drew a quick, shallow breath as the heat from his big body closed around her. The passionate music, which she loved, throbbed, heightening her senses. Her nostrils seemed filled with his scent. The heat from his hand at her waist, his palm locked against hers, burned as if they were locked into some kind of electrical current.
She squashed the insane urge to sway a little closer. Wrong man, wrong place and a totally wrong time to road test this new direction in her life.
The whole point was to change her life, not repeat her old mistake.
Although,