Читать книгу Until Now - Kayla Perrin - Страница 12

Chapter 3

“Tamara,” Marshall said as he pulled out a chair and took a seat beside Nigel. “I want to know everything about her.”

Nigel looked at him askance. “Didn’t I just see you dancing with her?”

“Yes. But it ended too soon.”

“Ahh, rejected,” Nigel said with a grin.

“Feels more like a game to me,” Marshall said. Tamara had undoubtedly flirted with him. And now she wanted to see if he would chase her. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s been Callie’s friend for years. She’s the one who Callie had to go to Florida to testify for.”

“Ahh, that’s right. The one with the crazy ex.”

“So I wouldn’t say she’s playing any cat-and-mouse games. I seriously doubt she’s ready for any of that.” Nigel looked him dead in the eye. “You’re interested?”

“Can you blame me?” Marshall looked in her direction. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous.”

“And she’s off-limits,” Nigel said.

Marshall jerked his gaze back to Nigel, frowning. “She just ended her marriage. You telling me she’s already dating someone else?”

“No, I mean she’s off-limits to you.”

Marshall began to smile. “Should I be offended?”

“What I’m trying to say is that she’s had a rough year. She’s just closed the door on her abusive ex-husband. She’s not the typical girl you like to hook up with, the kind who’s interested in having a hot fling and nothing more.”

Marshall nodded. “So basically you’re telling me I should stay away from her because you think I’d hurt her.”

“Not on purpose. But considering I doubt she wants what you want, yeah, I see the risk of her getting hurt.”

“No worries, Nigel. I’m not planning to hurt her. I’d just like to get to know her a little bit better.”

Nigel gave him a knowing look.

“You telling me I can’t even talk to her?”

“You’re a big boy. I’d never tell you that. But she is Callie’s friend, which means I want to look out for her. She’s got to be vulnerable right now, so I would take that into consideration.”

“I’m your best friend, Nigel. You know I’m not some evil guy.”

“Of course not. If you were, we wouldn’t be friends. Just...keep in mind what I said. She’s fresh out of her marriage, so I don’t imagine she’d be interested in anything. But I do know that I don’t want to see her hurt any further.”

“Duly noted.”

Marshall looked in her direction again and caught her looking at him. She quickly averted her eyes. He smiled, because he’d caught her looking.

Oh, yeah, she was interested in him. At the very least, she liked what she saw. She hadn’t told him to get lost, and then there had been that whole flirtatious exchange. Marshall knew when a woman found him attractive.

But she was vulnerable. He could deal with the fact that she’d been hurt.

Because he wasn’t planning to cause her any more pain.

In fact, his thoughts were far from that.

* * *

Half an hour later, the crowd was cheering as Eric made a production of taking the garter belt off of his bride’s thigh. With Deanna seated in a chair, Eric teased her as he slipped his hands beneath her gown, much to the crowd’s delight, and lowered the blue garter. As people whistled and clapped, he gripped the garter with his teeth once it was past her knee and dragged it down to her ankle.

The crowd went wild.

Deanna blushed as Eric finally pulled the garter over her toes. Then he jumped to his feet, triumphant.

“All the single men, get ready for the garter toss,” the DJ announced.

The eligible men went to the dance floor behind Eric and vied for the best position to catch the garter. Tamara and the guests laughed as Eric pretended he was going to throw it one way—more than once—before ultimately tossing it over his shoulder high to his far right.

Marshall, who’d actually been standing just left of Eric about ten feet back, leaped so far to the right that he was able to snag the material with the tips of his fingers. Victorious, he secured it in his fist and did a little dance while the other men around him accepted defeat.

“Of course,” Tamara muttered.

“What was that?” Callie asked her.

“Nothing.”

“And now it’s time for the single ladies. All single ladies to the dance floor for the bouquet toss!”

When Tamara didn’t move, Callie made a face at her. “Aren’t you getting up?”

Tamara scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Tamara. It’ll be fun.”

Tamara shook her head. “There are plenty of single ladies getting up already.”

“Most of whom look too young to get married. Get your butt up there.”

“It’s not nec—”

“Last call for all the single ladies to the dance floor,” the DJ said. “Don’t be shy.”

“You heard him.” Callie got up from her chair and approached Tamara.

“What are you doing?” Tamara protested as Callie reached for her hand.

“Just get up. Come on. This is the fun part.”

With Callie physically taking her hand, Tamara sighed and stood. Those around her cheered as she made her way to the dance floor.

As if she wanted to catch the bouquet after Marshall had caught the garter.

Fine. I can stand here, but I don’t have to be the one to catch the cursed thing. While some of the teenagers around her looked supereager, Tamara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Then the music began, and as Eric had done, Deanna teased the teen girls and adult women by pretending she was about to release the bouquet. And then she did.

And it sailed in the air straight toward Tamara.

Reflexively—so the bouquet didn’t hit her in the face—Tamara caught it. And then people began to cheer, and she realized what she had done.

But the realization truly hit her when she looked to the edge of the dance floor and saw Marshall standing there, grinning at her as if he had just won the lottery.

“Give them a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ said with enthusiasm. People clapped. “And welcome the couple to the dance floor to share a dance!”

The guests cheered and whistled their encouragement for Tamara and Marshall to dance. And then Marshall began to approach her.

Tamara’s stomach sank. Good Lord, would she never escape the man?

“So we meet again,” Marshall said as he stopped before her. “How fitting.”

Tamara swallowed. What she wanted to do was flee. But with all of the wedding guests watching with smiles on their faces, that was the last thing she could do.

The DJ began to play Eric Benét’s “I Wanna Be Loved,” and there was nothing Tamara could do but accept her fate when Marshall slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

Her stomach fluttered, and her body tensed.

“That’s right,” the DJ said, urging them on, “get to know each other.”

All eyes were on them as if the guests believed that Cleveland’s newest couple had just been crowned.

“Smile,” Marshall told her. “People are going to start wondering what’s wrong.”

Tamara inhaled a shaky breath and then tried her best to force a smile. She had enjoyed the dancing when it had been on her terms, but now it was as if fate was laughing at her.

“You’re as stiff as a board,” Marshall whispered. “What happened to the woman I was dancing with earlier tonight?”

That woman had been playing a game, or so she’d thought.

“I’m not exactly comfortable with public attention,” Tamara said by way of explanation.

“It’s just a dance. Not a date with the executioner.”

Tamara wished that his voice wasn’t so deep and sultry. And that he wouldn’t whisper into her ear the way he did, as if they had developed some sort of comfort level already.

She tried to ease back as far as possible without looking uncomfortable, and when the song came to an end, she was relieved. It was clear to her that she’d lit Marshall’s fire, so to speak, and that he was interested.

“Excuse me,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a drink,” she told him. She felt as if her whole body was burning up.

“I’ll join you.”

Tamara headed toward the punch table. She had abstained from the cocktail when she’d arrived at the reception, but with Marshall on her heels, she poured a full cup and gulped it down.

She saw Marshall looking at her with humor in his eyes as he slowly poured a cup and sipped the beverage. Humor and determination.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Tamara put her empty cup on the edge of the table and plastered a smile on her face. “Nature calls.”

“Excellent,” Marshall said. He started for the doors with her. “We’ll go together.”

Tamara’s eyes widened in horror. “What?”

Marshall placed a hand on her upper back and kept walking with her.

“W-what are you doing?” Tamara asked, looking over her shoulder at him in disbelief.

“Not what you think I’m doing.” With one hand, Marshall pushed open one of the double doors, and with the other, he whisked her out of the ballroom. “I just want to talk.”

Tamara expelled a frustrated breath. “You’re following me because you want to talk?”

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” Marshall countered, coming to a stop several feet away from the reception-hall doors.

“Because I have to go to the bathroom?”

“You dance with me, leave me thinking you’re interested, and now you seem as though you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

Tamara stared up at him...and her vision momentarily blurred. She felt a little odd. A bit dizzy. But she forged ahead. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you take that as rejection?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Marshall countered, his full lips twisting. “I just want to know—what happened to the woman on the dance floor earlier? The one who made it clear she wanted me to chase her?”

Tamara guffawed. “Chase me?”

“I bet you’re planning to leave here and not give me a way to reach you. And tonight in your bed, you’ll have a laugh at my expense, right?”

“You know you sound crazy.”

“And you called me the heartbreaker,” he went on, shaking his head while his eyes danced with humor.

Amazing, Marshall didn’t seem perturbed by anything. He had the carefree manner of a man who had it easy in life.

“I’m sorry if you think—”

“Here’s the interesting thing, Tamara. Nigel’s my best friend. We work together. So whether or not you give me your number, I’ll be seeing you again. So why don’t we get past this game part—as fun as it is—and just exchange numbers now.”

“My, my, my. You certainly have a way with women, don’t you?”

Marshall threw his head back and laughed. “Am I coming off too strong? Sorry. It’s just...” His eyes roamed over her face. “Damn, I’m not sure what it is. All I know is that I’m interested.”

“What exactly are you interested in?”

“In getting to know you better.”

Tamara felt a little woozy again and knew she needed to splash some cold water over her face. “Can we please continue this conversation when I come out of the bathroom?”

“Sorry. Of course.”

Tamara found the door to the restroom a few steps away. Before she went inside, she glanced over her shoulder.

Marshall was still there, waiting for her.

He grinned. “I’ll be right here.”

Tamara said nothing, just escaped into the bathroom. Once inside, she headed directly to the sink, turned on the faucet and then splashed her face with cold water.

Tamara raised her head and looked at her reflection. Not only did she feel out of sorts, she looked a little flushed. She didn’t think she had overdone it with the alcohol, but perhaps the punch had pushed her over the edge.

For goodness’ sake, what had she gotten herself into with Marshall? She hadn’t expected him to be like a dog with a bone.

“He sees this whole thing as a game,” she said to her reflection. “He’ll get bored soon enough.”

She should have known that with a man like Marshall, once she had taken on the role of the mouse, he would take on the role of the cat.

Taking one of the hand towels from a wicker basket, she delicately dried her face. She was feeling even more light-headed than minutes ago and wondered if she was coming down with something.

She went into a stall and then came out and washed her hands. Perhaps she should just put Marshall out of his misery now. Tell him that she knew who he was because he had played this very game with her cousin. And she’d heard about him with other women, as well.

The Marshall she had known years ago had loved the chase. And he was good at conquering.

All of the time spent with him this evening had proved to Tamara that he hadn’t changed over the years.

The heir to the auto fortune that his father had built, Marshall went after women as though it was a sport. Callie told her that he’d never been married. He was what now—thirty-four, thirty-five? It wasn’t a crime to be single at that age, but Tamara would bet her last dollar that Marshall didn’t want to settle down because he didn’t believe in commitment.

Which had actually made him a perfect candidate for flirting with tonight. Their banter had been entertaining and had totally kept her from thinking about Patrick.

She exited the bathroom, noting that she seemed to be walking a little bit unsteadily. As promised, Marshall was standing there, waiting.

Her eyes roamed over him from head to toe. The black suit that looked like a million dollars on him. He truly was one incredibly fine specimen of a man. There was no doubt as to why the women swooned over him.

“You want to get to know me better,” Tamara said without preamble as she walked toward him. “Really get to know me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then how’s this?” None too gracefully, she closed the distance between them. And as she eased up on her toes, the thought that came into her mind was that she was definitely drunk. Because she had no clue why she was doing what she was doing...nor could she stop herself.

Completely out of character, Tamara tipped up on her toes and planted her lips firmly on his. She gripped his shoulders, more for support than anything, and after about five seconds, she ended the kiss as quickly as she had initiated it.

Easing back, she looked up at Marshall. Saw the confusion on his face. And felt it in herself as her head swam.

Why’d she just do that?

Marshall’s expression said that he was stunned but also delighted. He raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, her tongue feeling heavy. “To score?”

“Come again?”

She took a step backward, swaying unsteadily. “I gave you what you wanted, so now you can move on. The chase is over.”

Marshall frowned. “You kiss me like that, and then you tell me...”

Tamara didn’t hear the rest of what Marshall was saying, because the room began to spin violently. She reached out but there was nothing to grab onto.

“Tamara?” she heard him say.

The last conscious memory she had was of strong arms encircling her waist.

And then the world went black.

* * *

Holding Tamara’s limp body in his arms, Marshall looked down at her with a sense of disbelief. What the heck had just happened?

Her eyes were closed and her plump lips were slightly parted. She was undoubtedly out cold.

Marshall felt for a pulse. It was there, and it was strong. Her breathing was shallow but steady.

He had seen this before. Women who drank too much. Suddenly, the alcohol hit them, and they passed out.

The weird thing was, she hadn’t exhibited any signs of being inebriated earlier. She hadn’t lost her footing on the dance floor, and her speech hadn’t been slurred. It had been only moments before she faltered that he’d realized something was wrong.

“Tamara,” he called softly. She said nothing.

He scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the nearby sofa. He sat her down beside him and propped her head against his shoulder. “Tamara?” he said again.

All he heard in response was the sound of her breathing.

She hadn’t taken something in the bathroom, had she? Some sort of drug? It was a crazy idea, and one Marshall dismissed. She didn’t seem like the type.

He touched her face. She was warm. Her skin was smooth. His eyes ventured a little lower, over her thighs and down her legs. At the silver sandals on her delicate feet.

Wow, she was gorgeous.

And she was an enigma. Why had she kissed him? Oh, he had no complaints. Not until she’d said that whole thing about scoring and giving him what he wanted.

She had no clue what he wanted, and he wondered why she had judged him so harshly.

“Tamara?” He lightly tapped her face and still got no response.

It was clear to him that she wasn’t waking up anytime soon. Marshall didn’t know if he should leave her on this sofa and go to find Nigel. He was about to do just that, then considered the fact that Nigel had told him that the boys were staying with the babysitter for the evening. It wouldn’t exactly be the best thing for Nigel to bring Tamara back there, possibly have her son see her in this state.

Marshall would take her to his place. He would watch her, see if her vital signs changed and act accordingly if they did. But he suspected that the alcohol had simply caught up with her and all she needed was to sleep it off. Then, in the morning, he would bring her home.

Yeah, that seemed like the best thing to do. Besides, the reception was still in full swing, and he didn’t want to take Nigel or Callie or any of the family away from the festivities. His cousin had already left, so there was nothing keeping him here at this point.

Tamara moved against him, snuggling her head against his shoulder a little. A smile touched Marshall’s lips. Did she have any clue what she was doing? That she was with him now? At least she appeared content.

A sleeping angel.

Marshall reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, and he sent Nigel a text explaining what he was going to do. He told him not to worry, that he would handle the situation and that Tamara would be returned safe and sound in the morning.

For good measure, he added: Don’t worry. She’s in good hands. I’m heeding your warning.

Then Marshall pulled Tamara’s delicate body onto his lap and secured his arms beneath her legs and around her shoulders. He began to walk with her toward the establishment’s main doors, garnering some stares from a few people nearby.

Marshall grinned at an older couple and said, “Don’t worry, folks. I’m a police officer. I’m making sure that this young lady here gets home.”

“Is she okay?” the older man asked.

“Yes,” Marshall answered. “Just a little too much to drink. Nothing a night’s rest won’t cure.”

As he looked down at the sleeping beauty in his arms, he thought again about the way she had kissed him.

And how he was very much looking forward to doing it again.