Читать книгу Modern Romance May 2017 Books 5 – 8 - Bella Frances, Louise Fuller - Страница 13
ОглавлениеGABI WANTED TO go home and hide her shame.
Over and over she replayed it in her head—that awful moment when she had thought the suave Alim had been asking her to dance.
She stood in the empty ballroom and surveyed the slight chaos that a successful wedding reception left in its wake.
The staff had been in and cleared the plates and glasses, the tables had been stripped and the chairs stacked away. All Gabi had to do tonight was take the old gramophone out to her car and safely put away the grandparents’ vinyl record that the bride and groom had danced to.
It could wait a few moments, though, and Gabi paused to look around.
It was such a magnificent ballroom.
The chandeliers had been switched off and it was lit now by the harsh white downlights that had come on when the music had ended and it had been time for the guests to leave.
And, because she could, Gabi headed to the power box and one by one flicked the switches until all the lights were off.
She did not turn on the chandeliers.
They didn’t need electricity to be beautiful, for the moonlight came in through the high windows and it was as if the snow outside was now falling within. Even unseen trees made an appearance because the shadows of branches crept along the silver walls.
It was like standing in an icy forest, so much so that she could imagine her breath blowing white.
What had Alim been about to say to her?
It might be weeks or months before she was here at the Grande Lucia again.
Maybe she would never know.
Gabi heard the door open and turned, assuming it was one of the staff to clear the remnants of the wedding away.
Instead, it was Alim.
‘I was just...’
Just what?
Thinking about you.
Gabi didn’t say that, of course.
‘It went very well tonight,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
And now she should collect her things and go home, yet she made no move to leave.
She was one burning blush as he walked across the room, and she did not know where to go or what to do with herself as he approached the old gramophone.
And then she shivered.
Not because it was cold, for the air was perfectly warm; instead, she shivered in silent delight as she heard the slight scratch of the needle hitting the vinyl. The sounds of old were given life again and etched on her heart for ever as he turned around, walked towards her and, without a word, offered her a dance.
And, without a word, she accepted.
His embrace was tender but firm and, close up, the heady, musky sent of him held a peregrine note that she could not place. But, then, nothing about tonight was familiar.
Usually his greetings were polite; tonight things had changed and, Gabi thought, even the suave Alim seemed to accept they were on the edge of something.
‘Listen.’ He spoke into her ear and his low voice offered a delicious warning. ‘I am trouble.’
‘I know that.’
He felt her head nod against his chest and her words were accepting rather than resigned so he made things clearer. ‘If you like me, then doubly so.’
‘I know all of that,’ Gabi said.
The trouble was, right now, here in his arms, Gabi didn’t care and she lifted her face to his.
Tonight was her night.
Gabi knew his reputation and accepted it would never be anything more than a night, yet she had carried a torch for Alim for years.
The consequences she could live with.
It was regret she could do without.
His body she had craved and imagined for so long, and she rested against it now. He was lean and strong and he moved her so skilfully to the music that for the first time in her life Gabi felt not just co-ordinated but light.
They stared deep into each other’s eyes. She never wanted to leave the warmth of his gaze, and for now she did not have to.
They stared and they swayed and they ached within.
His whole life, Alim had fought to keep his business and personal life separate. It had seemed the sensible thing to do, yet nothing made more sense than the thoughts that were now forming in his mind.
One woman.
He thought of the many upcoming trips home and he thought of returning to the Grande Lucia and to Gabi in his bed.
Alim thought of them working together and still it did not deter him, for there would be benefits for them both.
His head lowered, his lips brushed hers, and on contact Gabi knew she would never regret this.
A gentle kiss had been her fantasy, perhaps one on the cheek that changed midway.
Yet his kiss was decisive as his mouth met hers and he delivered her first kiss. She melted at the sheer bliss of it.
It actually felt as if her lips seemed to know what to do, for they moved and melded to the soft caress of Alim’s.
He was used to slenderness yet his hands now ran over luscious curves; he felt the press of her breasts against his chest and suddenly there was less reason for caution than he had ever known.
He wanted Gabi in bed—and not just for this night—so he moved his mouth from hers.
‘Are you seeing someone?’ he asked.
And though she was held in his arms, though he was hard against her soft stomach, his question was so matter-of-fact and so direct that it felt again, to Gabi, like an interview.
‘When does a wedding planner get time for a social life?’ she murmured, keen to get back to his kiss.
‘So it causes problems in your relationships?’
He was fishing, shamelessly so.
She was honest.
And not to her detriment.
‘There have been no relationships.’
Her words went straight to his groin, and Gabi felt him further harden in response to them while his hands on her hips moved her further in.
As he met her mouth again, she felt the odd sensation of panic devoid of fear.
The intimate taste of him was briefly shocking, the intensity and the thoroughness of his kiss was better in the flesh than in dreams. There, in imaginings, she did not know quite what to do, but here, with him, she held his breath in her mouth and swallowed it as he accepted hers.
They made hunger.
Illicit.
That was the taste they made.
The tip of her tongue was surely nectar for he savoured it, and the scratch of his jaw was a new hurt for her to relish.
Her breasts ached against fabric as his hands roamed her curves, and she felt the dig of his fingers in her hips and the grind of him against her.
Dignity was not Gabi’s forte.
She slipped and fell on so many occasions.
Tonight, though, she danced with the man of her dreams.
It was just a dance, she told herself. Her body denied it.
Oh, it was so much more than a dance.
He moved her an inch, a dangerous inch for it felt as if their heat met and she was scared to let go, scared to misread the situation again, but it felt as if they were headed for bed.
As she opened her eyes to the coolness of his cheek Gabi was ready for more.
It was the eyes of insatiable heat that met his.
‘What the hell was I thinking?’ Alim asked, for he still could not believe he had sidestepped that dance.
She did not understand the question, and since he offered no clarification Gabi did not attempt a reply.
Alim spoke for both of them.
‘Come to bed.’
