His Ring, Her Baby / His Bride for the Taking. Sandra Hyatt

Not so cool.

      “Dance with me,” he murmured, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms and feel her moving against him.

      Her gaze darted out over the dance floor in the center of the room. “Dance?”

      “Surely even Cinderella can have fun at the ball?” he teased.

      “I—” She looked down at the plate and began rearranging the hors d’oeuvres, the faint tremor in her hand shooting satisfaction right through him.

      Then she lifted her eyes and moistened her lips. “There’s something I should—”

      “Yes, there is,” he said huskily.

       Come closer and touch me. Slide your hands around my neck. Press yourself against me.

      She drew in a quick breath. “I—” Raising her chin higher, she pulled back her shoulders, unknowingly emphasizing her firm, rounded breasts. “I’ve just got one thing to say to you, Mr. Deverill.”

      “What’s that?”

      “You are no prince.” With that she took off into the throng.

      Amused, Kirk watched the feminine sway of her hips. Then he exhaled a low rush of air. He’d have liked nothing better than to follow her. To slide that zipper open at the back of her dress. To plant kisses all along her spine. And beyond—

      The waiter interrupted his thoughts with the glass of whiskey. He took a sip and it burned going down. A long, slow burn.

      Just like Vanessa.

      Then Hugh’s parents called his name and the world intruded, but over the next hour he couldn’t keep from watching Vanessa mix with the other guests. She smiled graciously. She laughed. And then she’d catch him looking at her and that smile would freeze on her lips, a signal that he affected her as much as she affected him.

      Later she disappeared into the kitchen with a pile of dirty glasses. He followed and found her stacking the dishwasher. She was alone, as he’d hoped she would be. She couldn’t know it, but she gave him a bird’s-eye view of her cleavage, the same view he would get if she were lying on top of him. Two perfect globes. His to caress.

      “Want some help?” he said huskily.

      She straightened, a guarded look in her eyes. “Thanks, but I can manage.” Spinning away, she picked up some clean plates from the table and reached for the top shelf of a cupboard.

      He watched as her dress inched up her thighs. Damn, but she had gorgeous legs. Long and slim and firm enough for a man to grip as she rode him home, smooth enough for a man to slide up and into her.

      “You owe me a dance, Vanessa.”

      Her eyelashes flickered, then her lips twisted. “I’m sure Phyllis would love to come back from her break and find us dancing in her kitchen,” she scoffed, picking up more plates.

      Unable to stand another look at those legs, he strode over and took the plates out of her hands, then put them on the shelf himself.

      He turned and took slow steps toward her. “We could go outside under the stars, if you’d prefer.”

      Anywhere.

      He didn’t care.

      As long as she was in his arms.

      “No, I can’t.” She went to spin away.

      He put his hand on her arm, stopping her. “One dance can’t hurt us.”

      She tensed as if she knew one dance was all it would take. “Kirk, listen. This is all a waste of time.”

      “What is?” he murmured, watching the way she suddenly moistened her lips.

      “You … trying to seduce me. It won’t work. I can’t do this.”

      He pulled her closer. “Vanessa, you’re only fooling yourself if you think—”

      “Kirk, I’m a widow.”

      He blinked in shock.

      “My husband died six months ago.”

      He stared at her, trying to absorb the information.

      “I’ve been trying to tell you. I—”

      The screen door opened and Phyllis stepped inside the kitchen. “I don’t believe it! Kirk Deverill in my kitchen,” she scolded lightly, then stopped, her gaze going to Vanessa. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

      There was a pause but Kirk couldn’t have spoken to save his life. A widow? She was too young. She was only in her mid-twenties.

      Vanessa stepped back. “Not at all, Phyllis,” she assured the motel cook, then headed for a side door. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She left the room.

      Kirk let her go. He had to. He couldn’t make his feet move right then.

      “So how’s your mother, Kirk? I want to hear all about her.”

       Hell, what could he say to Vanessa anyway?

      “And Martha?” Phyllis added. “I believe her sister isn’t well.”

      Kirk slowly turned back to the older woman, forcibly pulling himself together, but his mind was working overtime. He still couldn’t believe Vanessa was a widow.

       Christ!

      Vanessa was shaking by the time she left the kitchen and slipped into Linda’s bathroom. She’d told him. He knew now. He wouldn’t pursue her further. And that was just as well. Tonight had the signs of being a prelude to a relationship she wasn’t ready for.

       A man-woman relationship.

      All she had to do was get through the rest of the evening.

      Drawing a calming breath, she left the safety of the bathroom and took a few minutes to chat to the teenager babysitting the boys here in Linda’s private quarters. Then she took a quick peek in on a sleeping Josh before heading back to the party.

      On entering the restaurant, the first thing she saw was Kirk dancing with a young, raven-haired beauty whose father owned a sheep station not far from town. She gazed up at Kirk as if any minute she’d swoon at his feet.

      A touch of cynicism seeped inside Vanessa. He didn’t seem to be worried about his attraction for her right now, with Tina’s red dress clinging to his dark trousers. Any closer and they’d be joined at the hip.

      “Like to dance, Vanessa?” a male voice said beside her, and she looked up to see Seth Collins, one of the other woman’s brothers, standing there, his brown eyes reflecting admiring lights.

      She flashed him a smile, glad to have someone take her mind off Kirk. “Lead the way.” On the dance floor she went into his arms. His height forced her to look up at him and he grinned down at her with a face as handsome as his sister’s was beautiful.

      Vanessa smiled right back at him, aware that he found her desirable. Unfortunately he did nothing for her. Not like.

      Her gaze shot past him to Kirk, who was scowling at her over Tina’s shoulder. There was a determined look in his eyes and suddenly she wasn’t sure being emotionally tied up in her late husband would make any difference to him. Kirk Deverill went after whatever or whoever he wanted.

      She dragged her eyes away. “Had enough to eat, Seth?”

      He nodded. “Best spread I’ve had in a long time.”

      She darted a quick look back at Kirk, who was still looking at her.

       And he was getting closer.

      Her heart thudded in her chest. She should have known he was the type of man who let nothing get in his way.

      Swallowing, she quickly looked at Seth again.