The Wedding Secret. Michele Dunaway

dancing enjoyable. She’d always loved to dance, and with Luke, one song slipped into two and then three as the band played all her favorite songs in a row.

      Despite having a good time, she begged off when a slow number began and made her way to the head table to retrieve her purse. She slid the beaded strap onto her shoulder and turned to him. “This has been great. Thanks. I’ll see you.”

      “Sure,” Luke said. The moment was awkward and she knew he was disappointed, but she was exhausted, tired from her relocation and all the wedding events of the past week.

      Although it might not be what she wanted, sleep sounded exactly like what she needed, so she left Luke and went to find her sister. Elizabeth was out on the dance floor, leading a version of “The Electric Slide,” a staple at every wedding.

      “You aren’t leaving?” Elizabeth asked as she stepped to the side, the line dance continuing without her.

      “I’m going to call it a night,” Cecile confirmed with a nod.

      Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “But you can’t! Devon and I are closing the place down, and I’ve barely gotten to talk to you. And what about Luke? Loretta said you’re here with him.”

      “He just said that to keep her from hitting on him,” Cecile said. A glance around the ballroom showed that Luke was nowhere in sight.

      “He’s a great guy, Cecile,” Elizabeth said. “You should get to know him.”

      “Perhaps in the near future,” Cecile said. “Right now I’m just ready to head back out to the suburbs.”

      “You should have just stayed here for the night like Mom and Dad,” Elizabeth insisted. “Stop by the front desk and see if there’s a room. I don’t like the idea of you in a cab this late at night.”

      “Really, it’s no big deal.” Cecile sighed as she saw her sister’s face. “Okay, fine. I’ll ask. I’ve got a bag checked anyway that I need to pick up.”

      She took the elevator to the lobby and, because she’d given her word, approached the front desk. A minute later, the clerk told her the hotel was full. “I can find you something at a nearby hotel,” he offered.

      “No, that’s not necessary,” Cecile said. She’d simply take a cab to her parents’ as she’d planned all along.

      “Cecile?”

      She turned upon hearing the familiar voice. She swallowed. Luke had loosened his bow tie and it hung down, exposing his neck and collarbone. “Hey, Luke,” she said. “I thought you’d gone.”

      “No, I’m on my way out now. No sense in staying if you were leaving.” He came closer, and her breath lodged in her throat. Even in the bright lobby lights he looked great.

      “I’m waiting for them to retrieve my garment bag,” Cecile said, the moment stretching.

      “Ah,” he said, stopping only an arm’s length away.

      Cecile’s knees weakened slightly as she realized how powerless she really was to the attraction she felt when around him. She also saw the moment for what it was: fate sending her another chance to say yes. Cecile was a firm believer in fate’s signs. In college, she’d been torn between two sororities, but a last-second experience at one of the parties had been the incentive she’d needed to pick the Roses. From that choice, she’d gained her best friends. And until recently, her job in New York had been perfect, but when she’d been passed over for a promotion, Cecile had taken that as a sign to try for something new. That decision had led her to The Allegra Montana Show.

      Now fate was thrusting Luke Shaw in front of her once more, a sign that perhaps turning down his offer had been the wrong decision. Twenty years from now, would she regret passing by this chance? Or should she seize the moment and have a grand passion to remember when the nights grew long and cold and she was alone?

      As the bellhop returned with her bag, Luke took the suitcase from her hand. “I’ve got it,” she protested.

      “I’ll take it,” he replied, and she decided to let him carry her bag at least to the hotel’s taxi stand. “Do you have your valet ticket?”

      “I’m taking a cab out to my parents’,” she said.

      He paused and turned. “This late?”

      “Yes. My apartment isn’t too far, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon.”

      The pupils in Luke’s blue eyes darkened. “So stay with me.”

      “You’re joking,” Cecile said, flustered and voicing the first thing that popped into her head. Luke had to be a mind reader. And worse, her libido was now fully wide-awake. And willing. Chemistry and fate made for a deadly, irresistible combination.

      “I’m not kidding,” Luke said, his forceful tone sending anticipatory shivers down her spine. He led her to the revolving doors. “I’m just a few blocks away.”

      “You’ve been hitting on me all night,” Cecile said, following him out onto the street as if he were the pied piper.

      “Yes, I have,” Luke told her. They’d stopped right outside the taxi stand. “I’m not an animal, Cecile. My parents raised a gentleman. I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t want you. I will tell you that I’ll keep my hands off you if that’s what you’d like. You need a place to stay and I have one. So what do you say? I’ll drive you home tomorrow, when both of us are thinking more clearly. If not, I’ll see you to your cab.”

      The doorman stood discreetly a few feet away. Luke nodded to him, and the man waded out into the street, blew his whistle and hailed a taxi. Luke handed the man her bag.

      The cabbie started loading the suitcase into the trunk, then opened the passenger door and waited for her.

      Luke reached out and put his hand on her arm. “It was great meeting you,” he said.

      No! Cecile inwardly shouted as her body overrode any misgivings her head might have. Fate had given her another chance, and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

      And her only reason would be that she was trying to be a good girl, holding out for a Mr. Right who might never come.

      Scarlett O’Hara had it right. Tomorrow was another day.

      “You are getting in with me, aren’t you?” Cecile asked. Luke paused and tilted his head. She had him with her next words. “I don’t think I know what directions to give him to your place.”

      It took less than five minutes to reach his high-rise building, less than a minute to take the elevator up sixty-eight floors. Anticipation hummed between them, and Cecile tried to concentrate on her surroundings. While the outside was simply a normal rectangular skyscraper with few architectural details, inside, Luke’s living room soared a dramatic two stories. The space was light, bright and modern. Minimalist pieces and modern art dominated the space. The first floor consisted of the living room, a dining area, a kitchen to make any cook jealous, a full hall bath and the second bedroom. Upstairs contained Luke’s loft office and, beyond that, the master bedroom suite. Her apartment was a shoebox compared to this.

      “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Wine? Beer? Soda?”

      “Water?” Cecile suggested, suddenly extremely nervous and not wanting any more alcohol. Sure, she’d been in this type of situation before, but this time she was with Luke. And that made her nerves feel like eggshells. While she wanted this man, she wanted whatever happened between them to be worth the buildup. She didn’t want crass. Or tawdry. She stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a phenomenal view of Lake Michigan and the well-lit Navy Pier.

      “Here you go,” Luke said a few moments later as he returned and handed her a glass of water. “Are you hungry? I can have some food delivered. Or I make a mean omelet.”

      “I’m fine,” Cecile said. She