One-Amazing-Night Baby!. Heidi Rice

the least likely to marry next.’

      Kate sat down and squeezed Sophie’s hand. ‘You’ll get back in the game, Soph. You’ll find your soul mate. A man so well suited he’ll practically be your twin.’

      Sophie found a self-deprecating smile. ‘Can we organise a twin without my spare tyre and tangle of hair?’

      Preferably someone sleek and built.

      Past Kate’s shoulder, Sophie watched 007 frown into the crowd as he folded impressive arms over an equally impressive chest. Sophie frowned too. Where was the girlfriend?

      A skilled hairdresser, Kate swept back a curl which had escaped from Sophie’s upsweep. ‘Just for the record, your cappuccino curls are gorgeous. And if you cut even an inch, you’ll answer to me.’ Her playful scowl eased. ‘You should flaunt what you have, instead of always trying to hold it back.’

      Penny shrugged on a nod. ‘And once your clothes fit again …’ She came as close as Penny could to offering a sympathetic face. ‘Well, you’ve always been quite pretty. Really.’

      Kate shot Penny a daggers look at the same time as the music kicked off again and their respective boyfriends—brothers they’d met a month earlier—arrived to whisk both away for a romantic cheek-to-cheek.

      Sophie gnawed her lower lip, refusing to give in to the tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. Kate meant well, but Sophie didn’t want her pity. And, frankly, she was over wallowing in her own.

      Yes, she’d recently limped away from her only long-term relationship. No, she wasn’t Miss World. Truth was she might never find her true love, the man destined to sweep her off her feet. Lots of people didn’t. Maybe, rather than the wedding-bell toll of tradition, she was meant to follow her own beat.

      And, heck, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. Looking back now, she could see that the Sophie who’d been with Ted was a pale imitation of the woman she wanted to be. She’d been a shadow. An appendage who’d nodded and never made waves. Story of her life, really.

      But no more. Starting now, this minute, she wouldn’t fall back from speaking her own mind. Surely the last thing she needed was a husband setting her boundaries, making the rules?

      On a burst of adrenaline, Sophie pushed up out of the chair. She was done worrying over what other people thought—Penny Newly doubly so.

      She hadn’t taken two steps towards the exit before a hand on her elbow held her back. Puzzled, she pivoted around. She craned her neck back and her stomach looped the loop at the pair of diamond-blue eyes smiling down at her.

      The man with the phone, and the shoulders and the chest, pressed the bouquet into her hand. ‘You dropped this.’

      As she absorbed the heat of his fingers curled over hers, his deep voice—a blend of steel and richest sable—vibrated through her. When his gaze slid to her mouth, the ground shifted beneath her feet and the room began a slow spin.

      Thankfully, before she could make a complete fool of herself, Sophie’s brain decided to work.

      He’d seen the flowers fall from her lap when she’d stood. He was merely being a gentleman, filling in time.

      Managing an unaffected smile, Sophie urged the flowers back. ‘You keep them. For your girlfriend.’ Or your wife.

      ‘I’m unattached.’ He took the bouquet and blindly set it on the tabletop. ‘In fact, I wondered if you’d like this dance.’

      Sophie blinked, then stole a wary glance around the room. This man was so out of her league. Was this some kind of joke? But when she met his gaze again, the sexual awareness that had started with a touch began to pour through her veins like thick warm cream.

      Hooked by those eyes, she lifted one shoulder and let it drop. ‘I was about to leave.’

      Claiming her hand, he spoke over a shoulder as he escorted her away. ‘Then I’m fortunate I caught you in time.’

      Only upon reaching the middle of the floor did he fold her into the circle of his highly capable arms. Without another word he set a large palm against her back and began to dance.

      Conscious of how her feet moved, as if programmed to follow his lead, she let herself relax against the hard plateau beneath his dress shirt and soak up the fresh, hot scent. When his thumb grazed the back of her hand she bit her lip as parched kindling sparked low in her belly.

      Her eyes drifted shut.

      Don’t get excited. This is just a dance.

      His deep voice hummed near her ear. ‘Your dress is lovely.’

      Her cheek all but resting against his shoulder, she melted a little more. ‘It’s been a while since I wore it last.’ She shunted aside a vision of Jolly Green Giant satin stretched over her behind.

      Yet he liked her dress. Had her luck changed? And to this extent? She was certain they hadn’t met before. Had Noah ever made mention of this man? A work colleague from the bank, perhaps?

      And why was she even asking herself these questions? She was supposed to be off men.

      At least she kind of remembered thinking something like that …

      Her dance partner picked up the conversational thread. ‘Black tie isn’t a weekly dress requirement for most people.’

      Maybe not. Still … ‘That tuxedo doesn’t look so out of place on you.’

      ‘It gets a decent workout. Hasn’t seen a wedding in a while, though. It’s been a nice day, with the church ceremony and the speeches—’ he whirled her around in a flawless move ‘—the bridal waltz.’

      Yep—all perfect. Right down to the hired Rolls-Royce. She scanned the opulent ballroom, wrapped in silk bows, glowing light and soft music. ‘It must have cost of fortune.’

      ‘I’m sure Noah thinks it’s worth every cent.’

      ‘Wendy too.’ With both sets of parents passed away, she and Noah had covered all the expenses. Wendy’s designer gown alone had cost thousands.

      His voice lowered. ‘You sound unconvinced. Don’t you think a traditional day with all the trimmings is worth the expense?’

      She pressed her lips together. ‘Not my place to say. It’s not my day.’

      ‘And if it was your day?’

      She suppressed a sigh, wishing she could feel as enthusiastic as she should for the deserving couple. A few moments ago she’d made a vow to lift herself out of her sadsack hole. Even given the benefit of her mystery man’s unexpected attention and this wonderful dance, she guessed she still had a way to go.

      She shook her head. ‘I’m not the person to ask right now.’

      ‘Because of what your thoughtless friend said a moment ago?’

      As his words sank in, her stomach flipped. She searched those hypnotic blue eyes. Did she have it right? It hurt to even say it. ‘You overheard that conversation?’

      One dark brow arched. ‘I heard enough.’

       Once your clothes fit again … Quite pretty. Really. Bit of a waste …

      Her throat convulsed on rising humiliation and her cheeks flamed for a second time that night. She cringed, imagining the ‘L’ burning into her forehead. ‘Is that why you asked me to dance? You felt sorry for me?’

      His lower lip jutted slightly. ‘At first. Until I looked more closely.’

      She blinked. Was that another compliment? Was the heat she imagined surging between them real?

      ‘And now?’ she asked.

      The hand on her back manoeuvred her closer. ‘I answered your question. Your turn to answer mine. How do you envisage your perfect wedding