Not half as important as what he wanted to be doing with her upstairs right now.
His nostrils flared as he fought to control the urge to drag her into the nearest darkened corner. On one level he thought he should be concerned about the intensity of his hunger for her, but on another he just couldn’t bring himself to examine it. There was something about her that sent his baser instincts off the scale.
Nothing a night of straightforward, short-term hot sex wouldn’t cure.
He smiled at the thought and, with the situation once again under his control, he tucked her elegant hand in the crook of his elbow and prayed for the evening formalities to fly by.
* * *
The dinner took all night. As it was supposed to.
The first course had been Mushroom-something. Aspen couldn’t remember and Cruz, possibly noticing her picking at it dubiously, had swapped it for his goat’s cheese soufflé. Then there’d been the main course. Beef or chicken. This time Aspen had swapped with him when she’d seen him eyeing her steak.
He’d smiled, grazed her chin with his knuckles and then resumed talking to two well-dressed Asian men, who’d nodded with polite restraint. Now and then he’d twined his fingers with hers when she’d left her hand on the tabletop while he talked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. As if this really was a date.
Aspen had chatted to the wife of the Mayor, who was very down to earth and full of Latin passion, and their daughter who was studying to be a doctor. They’d swapped war stories of bad essay topics, boring lecturers and horror exams and then it had been time for dessert.
She was full. Even though she’d hardly eaten a thing.
Her dinner companions excused themselves, and Aspen was just contemplating whether she should move to the other side of the table to speak with an older woman who sat on her own when Cruz slid his fingers through hers again. His hand was so much bigger than hers, his skin tone darker, the hairs on the back of his wrists absurdly attractive.
He stroked his thumb over her palm and goosebumps raced themselves up her arm.
He glanced in her direction, brought her hand briefly to his lips and then answered one of the Asian men’s questions.
The Mayor’s daughter returned and Cruz dropped Aspen’s hand as the girl produced a photo of her horse on her phone. Aspen made polite responses, all the time disturbingly aware of the man beside her.
Something had changed between them since she’d come downstairs. He was behaving as she imagined a man in love would behave. Little intimate glances, tucking her hair behind her ear, pouring her water, holding her hand...
Chad had seemed nice in the beginning too. Wooing her. Treating her lovingly. Somehow it had all come unstuck the year Cruz had left and her grandfather had been too sick to send the team to England. Chad had been unable to get a permanent ride that year and had started drinking more. By the time their wedding had rolled around she’d barely recognised him as the man who had courted her and treated her so deferentially. He’d moved back home when his father had threatened to halve his trust fund, and his father had used the opportunity to encourage Chad to get a real job. Aspen had tried to smooth things over but that had only seemed to make him resentful.
On their wedding night— No, she didn’t want to remember that.
She glanced at Cruz to find him deep in conversation. Would he be rough? She swallowed, her gaze drawn to his hands, wrapped around a wine glass. He stroked the slender stem with the pad of his thumb. Aspen recalled how he had stroked her lips the same way and heat erupted low in her belly. For a man with such size and strength he had been gentle. Suddenly his thumb stopped moving and Aspen felt the air between them shift even before her eyes connected with his.
Her mouth dried and her heart thumped. Fear and desire commingled until she felt emotionally wrung out.
‘Aspen?’
She glanced up but didn’t really see him.
‘Everything okay?’
Oh, God, that deep, sensual voice so close to her ear. She couldn’t help it. She trembled. Then pulled herself together.
‘Fine.’ Just me being a nincompoop.
Nincompoop? Her mother had used that word when she’d been laughing at herself.
A wave of sadness overtook her and immediately made her think of Ocean Haven. Her horses. Her mother. Aspen had gained wealth by moving in with her grandfather but not love, and certainly not security.
Cruz moved his hand to the back of her chair. ‘You look miles away.’
A wave of panic washed through her and she made the mistake of glancing up at him.