Mentally berating her stunned-mullet act, Ruby kicked her brain into gear and clamped her lips together. This was not Sam Ventura. He was just a very good-looking, powerfully built replica who seemed very much like Sam Ventura.
‘Thanks, but no, thanks,’ she bit out in a low tone. ‘Believe it or not, I don’t need a man to make my life perfect.’
And why on earth had she said that?
Grimly aware that she had silenced them all, she turned her back on the little group and willed her jelly legs to hold her upright as she hurried back to Molly.
* * *
Well, well, well, if he hadn’t just been put in his place by the very beautiful, and very cool Ruby Clarkson, Sam mused, watching as she disappeared into the crowd as if the hounds of hell were after her. Because, as surprising as it was to run into her so soon, it was her; there wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind.
A fiery spark of heat ignited inside him as he noted the graceful, swan-like neck and hourglass figure in the lavender gown. Obviously she hadn’t recognised him and that was a little...disappointing?
Two years ago he’d kissed her and felt as if he were standing on a tight wire being swung from side to side without a safety net to catch him. One year ago he’d wanted to repeat the experience and could have sworn she did too, and now she passed him by as if he was what? Nobody special? An irritant, even?
Ignoring the four bozos he hadn’t liked in high school and liked even less now, Sam grabbed his beer and headed into the party as the men behind him laughed uproariously at another lewd story that was as likely to be true as Sam suggesting that his father had put him first as a boy. Pure fantasy.
Shoving that thought back where it belonged, he took a pull of his beer.
Had Ruby really not recognised him?
The thought was like a burr in his side as he caught sight of lavender silk from across the room.
Not her, he realised as the woman lowered her hand-held mask to speak to her companion. His heartbeat steadied and he frowned as he realised that it had sped up in the first place. He wasn’t here to hit on anyone. He certainly wasn’t here to hit on Miller’s off-limits friend. Yet he couldn’t deny that his senses were instantly charged at having seen Ruby again so unexpectedly. Which had answered one of his earlier questions—no, the attraction he felt for her hadn’t lessened. Not even a little.
But what about for her?
He stood and watched the lively partygoers for a moment, wondering if he should prop up the bar for a bit, or head to a quieter corner until enough time had passed that he could leave. Or maybe he should hunt Ruby Clarkson down and wait for her to recognise him.
And what then? a little voice taunted. Surely you’re not thinking of finishing that thing you started two years ago?
Sam tilted the bottle of beer to his lips and took another long, fortifying pull.
Was he thinking that?
He couldn’t deny that the idea still held some appeal. More than some appeal, if he was being honest. Ruby Clarkson was a beautiful woman. What man wouldn’t want a long-legged, curvaceous honey-blonde woman spread out beneath him, naked and wanting in his bed, those glorious green eyes glazed over with desire, her lips plump and wet from his kisses, her creamy thighs parted for his possession?
Sam’s body hardened at the images rampaging through his head and softly cursed his wayward libido. No doubt she’d be great in bed. Great in his bed.
And there was that niggly note of ownership that had given him such pause two years ago. The caveman element that only she drew out of him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how effortlessly she drew him to her, or how often he thought about her. He certainly didn’t like how possessive he felt about her. Would one night with her in his bed solve that? Would one night rid him of the powerful pull she seemed to have over him or would it only make it worse?
Sam’s brooding gaze noticed a hint of lavender drift through the crowd towards the dance floor. Well, there was really only one way to test that theory, wasn’t there? Not that he intended to take her to his bed tonight. He wasn’t that desperate. But he could have a little fun with her, couldn’t he? A little innocent fun just until she recognised him. A smile curved the edges of his lips as he set off towards the dance floor. How long would it take her? One minute? Two?