‘What will you do for Christmas?’ Maria had explained she was taking time off for a honeymoon, so there would be no one else living in the house, as far as she knew. ‘Will you join family?’
‘Why are you so interested?’
Jess shrugged. ‘I’m not. I just don’t like to think of people being alone at such a special time of year. I’d never leave my father at Christmas, but don’t worry, your treatment can safely be handed over by then,’ she hurried to reassure Dante. ‘And if you stick to your regime you could be back on the polo field by New Year.’
Breath shot from her lungs as Dante lifted her up in his arms. Until she realised he was moving her out of the way of the wait staff.
‘Don’t squash the flowers!’ she exclaimed to cover her breathless shock and excitement.
‘I’ll have them delivered to Maria,’ Dante offered. ‘Or do you want to hang on to them for some reason?’
‘What reason?’ Jess demanded. ‘Do you think I’m going to take a turn around the marquee to try and drum up some interest?’
‘Now I’m offended,’ Dante protested, hand on heart.
She thought of the snarling wolf beneath. ‘You?’ she queried. ‘The only certainty about you is that you enjoy teasing me. Would you care to accompany me so you can make a list of my potential suitors?’
He stared at her darkly for a moment, then laughed. They both laughed, and both relaxed. ‘I think the bride’s calling you,’ Dante prompted. ‘You’d better go and attend to your duties. How lucky am I,’ he added as Jess turned to leave, ‘to be spared the ordeal of trying to find you a mate?’
‘A mate?’ Jess queried, stopping to throw him a paint-stripping look. ‘You should be so lucky.’
Dante’s lips pressed down but his eyes were firing with laughter. ‘When I lifted you, that was what your body told me you needed.’
‘You and my body don’t speak the same language,’ she assured him in a flash. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me—’
‘And if I don’t?’
She stared at Dante’s hand on her arm.
‘It would be my pleasure to escort you to Maria’s table,’ he murmured.
‘There’s no need. I can find my way.’
‘As I’m sitting next to you and it’s my table too, it would seem sensible for us to walk there together.’
There was nothing sensible about this, Jess reasoned as she paused. ‘It seems I have no option,’ she said at last.
‘None at all,’ Dante agreed.
Conversation between them and the other guests was lively at the top table, but on one of their many tours around the marquee to make sure everyone had everything they needed it was inevitable that Jess encountered Dante. What she hadn’t expected was that he would catch her around the waist and whirl her on to the dance floor. ‘You can enjoy yourself too,’ he insisted when Jess protested that she had her duties to attend to.
‘Your duty is to check on me and make sure I don’t overdo it,’ he informed her.
‘And how am I supposed to do that when you never listen to a word I say?’
‘My recovery would argue otherwise. You can gauge the extent of my recovery as we dance.’
And a number of other things, she thought hotly as Dante drew her close. ‘I’m not sure it’s appropriate.’
‘Uncertainty doesn’t become you, Señorita Slatehome. Should I doubt your prowess now?’
‘Not where my therapy’s concerned.’
‘What else should I doubt?’
Jess’s cheeks burned.
‘If you don’t want to dance with me, that’s another matter,’ Dante told her with a relaxed shrug of his powerful shoulders, ‘but this is our promised dance—to celebrate my recovery,’ he reminded her.
‘I don’t remember promising that.’
‘Amnesia can be a terrible thing.’
‘Don’t make jokes. I know you’re teasing me again.’
‘Am I?’
Dante’s voice was so warm and coaxing, and his body so hot and strong, that just for a moment she allowed herself to relax.
Of course she should have known better.
‘I won’t allow you to play the professional card at a wedding,’ Dante warned, ‘or assume the role of Cinderella. You can’t run out on me at midnight.’
‘So you’re Prince Charming now?’
‘I have a white horse.’
‘And an answer for everything.’
‘I do my best,’ Dante agreed.
‘If I agree to dance, it’s only on the condition that you sit down and rest afterwards.’
‘Rest?’ Dante’s lips tugged up at one corner in a smile. ‘Not a chance,’ he murmured dangerously close to her ear. ‘A resting wolf is still a dangerous animal. Your treatment worked, and now you must take the consequences.’
Why did she choose that moment to stare up into Dante’s laughing eyes?
‘That’s better,’ he whispered, drawing her attention to his mouth. ‘Relax. You have permission to enjoy yourself without feeling guilty.’
She drew in a shaking breath while Dante continued in the same soothing tone, ‘You look beautiful tonight and, as Maria is happily entwined around her new husband, you’re free of your duties, and free to dance with me.’
Oh, but this was dangerous. And irresistible. Wearing such a fabulous gown made Jess feel different, as if anything might be possible for the wo
man who wore the gown. When morning came she’d be a farmer’s daughter again and see things differently, but for now...
* * *
Something fundamental had changed between them, Dante reflected as Jess quite clearly debated whether or not to move into his arms. She knew what that entailed as much as he did. It was line crossed that could never be redrawn. The tension between them was too much for that to happen. They knew each other better, and yet in some ways not at all. There were still too many pieces of the jigsaw missing. He had pledged to keep everything professional, and so had Jess. He wasn’t satisfied with that. Was she?
What did she think about while he lay on the treatment couch beneath her hands? He had to try very hard not to think. Thinking was dangerous because the sight of her was enough to arouse him. Even the pain he suffered beneath her probing fingers aroused him. Everything about Jess was arousing, but the stakes were high because slaking his lust would never be enough where Jess was concerned. She was a special woman who demanded more of him emotionally than he had ever been prepared to give.
* * *
Banked-up feelings exploded inside her as Dante drew her into his arms. There was something so compelling and right about it, and that in itself made her wary. This wasn’t just a dance; it was a barrier crashing down. It was permission to feel, to respond, to hope for something more. She’d been so careful around him up to now, not just because of professionalism. Natural caution played its part. Dante was a player in every sense of the word. His relationships were famously many and short-lived, though at the moment he was making her feel as if she was the only woman capable of reaching him. How many others had he made feel that way?
He knew how to tease. Dante’s grip was frustratingly light and stirred a primal need inside her. Leave it at dancing or regret it in the morning, were inner words of caution she ignored. Dancing like this was a prelude to sex. Every inch of her body was moulded to his. Dante was exerting no pressure, but Jess’s body had its own ideas. His thigh was threaded through hers, bringing them into the closest contact possible outside of sex. But how—how—was she supposed to resist him? And did she want to?