‘And I can’t wait to dance with you,’ Ben replied, and he signalled for the cheque.
* * *
The club Natalia chose was packed with writhing bodies, flashing with strobe lights, and pulsing with music so loud Ben could feel it reverberate through his chest. Perfect. He couldn’t get close to Natalia in a place like this, couldn’t see the golden glints in her eyes when she laughed, couldn’t feel his self-control start to fray as he reached for her again, finding any excuse to touch her. His hand on the small of her back, his arm across the seat of his car, his fingers brushing hers as they clinked glasses. Any excuse at all, even a ridiculous bet on a race horse.
He’d never wanted a woman so much. A woman he knew to be dangerous, inappropriate, impossible. He should never be interested in someone like Natalia.
Someone like Natalia. Yet who was she? The partying, publicity-seeking princess, or the woman who laughed and flirted even as he saw the shadow of vulnerability in her eyes? The woman he despised for everything she represented and was—spoiled, shallow, vain—or the woman he couldn’t get enough of, both emotionally and physically, so he sought her out again and again?
She turned to him now, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before she gave him her usual challenging little smile. ‘Ready to dance?’
‘Of course.’
She’d taken off her ridiculous little hat and fitted jacket, so she wore only a cream silk sheath that lovingly hugged her slender curves. Ben watched her wind her way onto the dance floor with a kick of lust, and then he eyed the heaving crowds with definite reluctance. Yet surely it was better than remaining in the seductive darkness of the restaurant’s terrace, listening to the throaty sound of her laughter, watching the setting sun touch her skin with gold. Just enjoying being with her, more than with any other woman he’d ever known.
No, this was much better. Ben knew he’d enjoyed today far too much. Wanted Natalia—in so many ways—far too much. It made him reckless and weak, two characteristics he despised. Two characteristics he associated with his father…and his mother’s heartbreak.
Yet even now he knew his self-control was slipping, notch by notch, until surely nothing would keep him from pulling her into his arms and losing himself in her as he was all too desperate to do.
Smiling grimly, he followed her out onto the dance floor where the writhing crowds would surely allow them both to keep their distance.
* * *
Natalia regretted taking Ben to the club as soon as they walked through the doors. The lights, the music, the noise—all of it was awful, and even though she’d been here a dozen times, she didn’t want to be here with Ben. A place like this would only reinforce the unflattering assumptions he’d made about her. And really, Natalia thought as she turned to smile at him on the dance floor, she wanted to be alone with him, not hemmed in by a sweaty and indifferent crowd.
It surprised and even touched her that Ben had gone along with all of her plans today, that he was dancing even now, and she saw, he was actually a very good dancer. She would have expected a man like him—business-minded, focused and controlled—to move stiffly on the dance floor, or if she were honest, to sit on a bar stool and scroll through his emails on his BlackBerry.
But Ben moved with arrogant grace, his eyes glinting as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Which he probably did. The man possessed an uncanny ability to read her mind. Know her heart.
Swallowing, Natalia looked away. Even amidst the safety of a crowd, she felt this magnetic pull, this insane craving to pull him closer, to lose herself in him. And if she did that…what would be left?
A few minutes after they started dancing the music suddenly changed to a low, lazy tune that had everyone pulling partners close. Natalia hesitated, half-wanting to run off the dance floor rather than face the fierce temptation of slow dancing with Ben. Or what if he walked off the floor first? He may have wanted to kiss her on a bet, but that didn’t mean he wanted to dance with her. Be with her.
But already he was pulling her towards him, his hands firm on her hips, fingers splayed along her backside as he nestled her close against him. His lips brushed her hair as her arms twined round his neck almost of their own accord, so desperate was she for this contact. This closeness.
Natalia was barely aware of the music as she felt Ben’s body against her own: his thigh against her hip, the evidence of his arousal pressing into her middle, his jaw almost touching her lips. Her body felt as if it were buzzing with awareness, pulsing with need. She pulled him closer, let her lips brush the stubble on his jaw, inhaled the clean, male scent of him as her senses swam and she heard—and felt—Ben shudder in response.