Mr. Darcy's Kiss

“It's fine, okay?” Lydia pushed me away. She was halfway back to the bar when the bouncers appeared in her path.

“Miss, you're going to have to leave,” the bigger bouncer informed her. “We can't have you here being this disruptive.”

“Do you know who I am?” Lydia asked, crossing her arms and throwing her chin up in the air. “I'm here with Charles Bingley. He owns this place. He owns you.”

The bouncer lowered his head, so he was looking her straight in the eyes.

“That's the only reason you're still standing,” he told her. “Anyone else would be out on their ass right now.”

Lydia paled slightly, her face ghostly in the blue flashes of the dance lights. “Oh.”

“Let the girl grab her things,” Mr. Darcy told the bouncer. “She's on her way out. I'll make sure of it.”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” the bouncer replied, snapping up to attention. “Whatever you want.”

Mr. Darcy motioned to the stairs, and Lydia did her haughtiest walk past the bouncers to get there. I half expected her to stick her tongue out as she passed them. I glared daggers at her the entire way up the stairs.

Despite Mr. Darcy's assurances, one of the bouncers followed behind us to make sure Lydia really was on her way out. To be honest, given the way Lydia was acting, I couldn't blame him.

Up at the table, Jane was giggling as she poured herself another glass of champagne. She looked more relaxed now, but that was only because she was drunk. Luckily, Jane was a terrific drunk. Alcohol simply made her giggly and silly.

“I have to take little Miss Dancing-on-tables home,” I announced. “She got herself kicked out.”

“What?” Jane's eyes went wide. She blinked twice before giving a stern glare to Lydia.

I pointed to Lydia's things and cleared my throat, looking directly at my sister. Lydia rolled her eyes and stomped over to the far end of the table to retrieve them. While she did that, I knelt beside Jane.

“Are you going to be okay, Jane?” I asked, handing her a glass of water.

“I'm fine,” she assured me, pushing away the water and reaching for more champagne. She was going to hurt in the morning if she kept this up.

“I'll make sure she gets home safely,” Charles assured me. He grinned. “Her apartment is on the way home to mine.”

I laughed. "Thank you, Charles. And I apologize for Lydia."

Charles waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. These things happen. She's still very young, and she knows what she wants."

“That's a nice way of putting it. Thank you for inviting us,” I replied sincerely. “I had a great time.”

I thought of my dance with Mr. Darcy and my body heated. I wondered what his skin felt like. I wondered if he would have tasted like the champagne. Now I'd never know. Which was probably for the best.

I glared at Lydia. “Time to go.”

She rolled her eyes, and I tried to pretend that she had done me a favor. I was supposed to hate Mr. Darcy, so the last thing in the world I should be doing is wondering what his kisses would taste like. She was saving me from making a terrible mistake with him.

Still, I needed to thank him for helping keep the security guards away from Lydia. I looked around, but he was gone. All I saw was the back of his suit jacket and his phone up to his ear as he disappeared back toward the manager's office. He was working.

The bouncer stood with his arms crossed and tapping his foot for Lydia to make good on her promise to leave. Mr. Darcy had way too much faith in my ability to control my sister.

“Charles? Will you tell Mr. Darcy thank you for me? For helping with Lydia?” I asked. “He's off doing business again.”

“Of course,” Charles assured me. He had an arm around Jane's shoulder as she giggled and sipped on her drink. It looked like he'd managed to switch out her champagne for water at least.

With that, I grabbed Lydia's wrist and pulled her toward the stairs. She went willingly enough, but she did stop and wink at the bouncer for good measure. The girl was brave.

At the bottom of the stairs, I looked back up to see Mr. Darcy watching me. He simply looked at me. No wave, no nothing. Despite not moving an inch, he made my body respond. I wanted to sprint back up those stairs and beg for another dance. Lust and regret surged through me, tempting me to do something other than what I was doing.

Instead, I raised my hand to say goodbye and then hurried my sister out the door, telling myself it was the smart thing to do.