Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (11 page)

ELEVEN

‘Avery Shaw,
you switched the dresses.’

‘Ah...yes. I can explain that.’

Claudia gripped the phone. ‘Oh, really? How?’

‘I had a hunch you’d chicken out on the red dress so I performed a little...switcheroo this morning.’

‘You did what?’ Claudia blustered into the mouthpiece. ‘When?’

‘Well, I enlisted—’

‘Jonah,’ Claudia said in disgust, the incident
that had momentarily puzzled her this morning now making sense. She should have gone with her instincts when Jonah required her assistance to choose which font they were going to use on the new garden signs.

As if he gave a rat’s arse about fonts.

‘Don’t blame him,’ Avery pleaded down the line, jumping to Jonah’s defence—as if the brawny, muscle-bound, lovesick fool needed it.

As if he gave a rat’s arse about Claudia’s displeasure. He was clearly too busy thinking about
his own
pleasure.

‘I cajoled him into it,’ Avery continued.

Claudia snorted. ‘I bet it didn’t take much.’

‘He told me he didn’t think I should interfere.’

Claudia wasn’t swayed by Avery’s standing-by-her-man act—even if it was the sweetest thing. ‘He’s a clever guy,’ Claudia said dryly.

‘I’m not interfering, Claude...not really...’

Claudia touched the crushed-velvet fabric laid out on her hotel room bedspread and tried not to be seduced by its glamour. ‘You booked us into a couple’s massage!’

‘I
did not
book you in as a couple,’ Avery protested for the umpteenth time. ‘I can’t help it if Sherry got the impression you two were...together.’

‘And then,’ Claudia
said, ignoring Avery’s arguments because they both knew damn well who had planted those impressions in Sherry’s head, ‘you sabotage my wardrobe.’

‘We’re going dancing—you need your dancing dress.’

Claudia glanced at the dress again, then firmly turned her back on it. ‘The blue one is fine.’

‘Of course it’s fine. But the red one...’ Claudia heard Avery sigh loud and clear across
the connection and rolled her eyes. ‘The red one is
ooh-la-la
. Every man’s head is going to turn when you walk into the room in that thing. Every man is going to want to dance with you. Your dance card will be full.’

‘I don’t want every man’s head turning,’ Claudia said waspishly. ‘I don’t want to dance with every man in the room.’

There was a pause for a moment before Avery’s voice
said softly in her ear, ‘Just the one?’

‘Avery,’ she warned. ‘Forget about Luke and I.’

There was another silence during which Claudia could almost hear the thoughts whizzing around in her friend’s head.

‘We can never have that kind of relationship, Avery,’ Claudia said, gentler his time. ‘We’ve known each other too long. Too well. And he’s too cynical about love.’

It helped
to say the words out loud, and not just for Avery’s sake. ‘It’s never going to happen.’

A brief pause followed this time but Avery was never one to be kept down. ‘So that’s even more reason to go out and let your hair down,’ she enthused. ‘You deserve a night on the town. So go knock ’em all dead in that dress.’

Claudia turned back to face the dress. ‘I don’t know, Avery...I’m kind of
tired.’

It was a lie, of course; the massage had rejuvenated her from the inside out and it had been such a long time since she’d danced...and if Luke wasn’t going to be there she’d definitely be up for a party.

She stroked a finger down the deep V of the halter neck.

‘Oh, come on, you know you’ll have fun once you get into it.’

‘I suppose...’

Avery tutted in her ear.
‘Suppose? Phfft! You know you’ll love it. Now, say it out loud. I, Claudia Davis, will put on my red dress and shake my booty all night and I
will
enjoy it.’

‘Avery.’

‘Say it!’

Claudia sighed and repeated the requested phrase. ‘Louder,’ Avery said. ‘Say it with feeling.’ Claudia said it louder. And with feeling.

‘There, now, doesn’t that feel better?’ she asked.

Claudia
smiled. ‘Yeah, it does.’

‘Good,’ Avery chirped and the triumph in her voice was infectious. ‘Now, what have you learned from this incident?’ she asked, then gleefully supplied the answer to the rhetorical question. ‘That Avery’s always right.’

Claudia laughed. ‘No. Try never trust someone who has access to your door key.’

* * *

Luke almost had a heart attack when he called
on Claudia to pick her up right on the dot of seven as they’d prearranged. She was swathed head to ankle in slinky dark red velvet. Like crushed raspberries.

And he was starving.

Her hair was in some kind of messy up-do that trailed blonde wisps down her nape, her shoulders were bare, her
cleavage
was bare—
do not think about her breasts
—and she had on some strappy shoes with ten crimson
toenails flashing at him in all their sinful glory.

She looked as if she’d been shrink-wrapped from chest to hips into the dress before it flowed around her thighs and calves.

‘You’re wearing
that
?’

Claudia supposed she could have taken offence at his rather rude greeting, but she wasn’t stupid and she didn’t believe in acting obtuse around men. It was clear she’d stunned him and
her feminine ego swelled dramatically.

‘And good evening to you too,’ she murmured, pulling her door closed.

Luke ignored the gentle reprimand. He looked into the depths of her cleavage. ‘Don’t you have some kind of...’ he waved his hands in the general direction of her shoulders and cleavage ‘...wrap?’

Claudia’s chin rose. ‘No.’

‘Don’t you think you should?’

Claudia smiled
and shook her head. ‘You do know I’m not six years old any more, right?’

Luke blinked as she swept past him and headed for the lift, the dress clinging to every microscopic movement of her body. The palm that had held the softness of her breast tingled.

‘I’m hardly likely to forget in that outfit,’ he called after her.

Luke’s breath hitched as Claudia looked over her shoulder at
him and gave him a wink.

* * *

They ate a sumptuous meal in the aptly named Rumba Room and Claudia was pleased that Avery had thought to book one of the tables that ringed the large dance floor. The entertainment here was always spectacular and being this close they wouldn’t miss any of the acts.

The restaurant was crowded and the food was delicious. Avery and Jonah were happy to
lead the conversation and Claudia let them go. She spoke where required, as did Luke, but neither of them were very engaged. Claudia was too aware of the strange vibe between her and Luke. He brooded away in her peripheral vision, also responding perfunctorily to verbal cues in between glaring at any man who dared look at her.

It was off-putting to start with but after a couple of glasses
of wine Claudia actually started to enjoy it. It was a fairly pointless exercise but knowing that he found her attractive after years of secretly drooling over him was something of a head swell.

And he was looking particularly dashing tonight. He’d teamed a pair of dark trousers with a retro button-up shirt in a paisley print of dark greens, purples and greys. It was open at the neck and
the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and it had been left hanging out.

It was very funky.
Very London.

His whiskers had been shaved to within an inch of their lives and while she wished he’d just let them grow, become the shaggy and scruffy stubble of her fantasies, a part of her was just as attracted to the whole
London suit
thing he had going on.

She wanted to reach out and
feel for herself that a man’s face
could
be that deliciously smooth. Trail her finger along his chin. Push her nose into the underside, where neck met jaw, and rub her lips against all the satiny smoothness she knew she’d find there.

And then maybe she could get a better whiff of his sweet but spicy aroma. She’d been trying to place it all night. Not that she was a connoisseur of men’s aftershave
but she did appreciate a man who smelled good.

‘I thought your ambition was to have your own agency by now, Luke?’

Claudia sensed Luke tensing beside her and tuned back into the conversation. What was Avery saying?

‘So it was,’ Luke said, his lips tight. ‘And if it hadn’t been for Philippa screwing me over, I would have.’

It was Claudia’s turn to tense at the mention of Luke’s
ex-wife. She held her breath and waited for him to elaborate, to talk more about what must have been a fairly low point in his life. To tell them something about his ex-wife. The mysterious Philippa.

She’d never once had a conversation with him about the woman who had, according to Gloria, broken her son’s heart and almost destroyed his professional reputation. One minute he’d been married
at a London register office without bothering to even tell his mother and the next it was all over.

Two years was all it had lasted. He’d been going to bring Philippa out to meet them all but they were always too busy and it had never eventuated. And then it had all fallen spectacularly apart.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Luke,’ Avery said as Jonah frowned and almost imperceptibly shook his head
at Avery. She reached out to touch his hand. ‘That was insensitive of me.’

‘It’s fine,’ Luke dismissed. ‘I’ll get there again. I plan to be out on my own—
completely on my own this time
—in two years.’

Jonah nodded at his friend. ‘Well, you can have my account,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been happy with my advertising mob for a while now.’

Luke chuckled, his taut muscles relaxing. ‘Well,
I’m flattered but you can’t just hand over a huge account like that,’ he said. ‘What if you don’t like what I can do?’

‘Can’t be worse than I have now. I’ve been a little distracted lately,’ he murmured, trailing his finger up Avery’s arm, ‘to care. I’ve really let the ball drop in that department. Besides, you forget, I know what you can do with that awful plastic-cheese crap. If you can
sell that you can sell anything.’

The whole table laughed this time and Luke joined in. He’d won a national jingle competition when he’d been eleven years old, not long after his parents had partnered with Claudia’s to run the Tropicana. It had been to sell pre-wrapped cheese slices and he’d been hooked on advertising ever since.

Luke shrugged. ‘I can have a look if you like.’

Jonah nodded. ‘That would be good.’

The long, low sultry note of a saxophone oozed out then, interrupting their conversation, and a murmur ran around the room. Claudia felt her heart flutter a little.

Bring on the dancing.

Spotlights from up above flicked on, one at a time, illuminating circles on the dance floor; other instruments joined the saxophone until a raunchy tune was playing.

‘The samba,’ Claudia announced to no one in particular.

And then a half-dozen couples twirled onto the floor from the wings. The women were dressed in tight, sequined dresses with huge slits that fitted like a second skin and the men were dressed in skinny trousers that fitted across narrow hips, formed a sash across flat abs and flared slightly at the hem. Their white silky shirts bloused
and flapped, a little like pirates’, the buttons mostly undone.

They found their positions and, as one, they all commenced dancing.

Really dirty dancing.

Bumping and grinding. Big male hands all over petite, scantily clad, female bodies. Spanning waists, gliding down legs, skimming breasts.

They twirled and turned and practically floated across the dance floor, light as feathers.
When the music ended, the male dancers dipped their partners with dramatic flair, the spotlights cutting out, and the room burst into applause.

‘There’s Raoul,’ Avery called across the table, raising her voice to be heard over the clapping.

Claudia nodded. She’d noticed. And he’d noticed her too, giving her a quick wink as he’d sambaed past earlier. He’d be over when he finished his
set.

Luke frowned.
Raoul.
His eyes searched the dance floor for the man that Avery and Claudia were talking about as the lights came back on again and the dancers started up a tango. He spent the next fifteen minutes checking out each of the incredibly talented dancers wondering who the mysterious Raoul was. And what his relationship to Claudia might be.

He didn’t have long to wait.

As the performers finished their last dance they all split up and headed for the tables, cajoling people to dance with them. A tall, dark-haired man with very white teeth, a perfect tan and designer three-day growth made a direct beeline for Claudia.

Raoul,
he presumed.

TWELVE

Claudia stood
as Raoul approached. It had been such a long time and she’d missed watching him dance. He had the swagger that all good-looking men possessed and combined it with that loose-hipped sway of a dancer. And it would have been quite something had Claudia not known that Raoul was aware of every single pair of female eyes following him across the floor.

He was
beautiful and he knew it.

Sure, Raoul was great to dance with and a fun occasional lover but Claudia had never entertained anything serious with him. When—if—the big L happened
she
wanted to be the centre of that man’s world. She needed a man who loved her more than he loved himself.

She
deserved
that, damn it.

Claudia was hyperaware of Luke’s gaze on her as Raoul closed the distance
between them and swept her into his arms.

‘Raoul,’ Claudia exclaimed. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’

Raoul slid a hand onto her waist as he kissed both of her cheeks. ‘
Mi querida
. You look
magnifica
,’ he said, then stood back slightly to admire her dress.

Claudia knew that Raoul’s Spanish accent could be used like a lethal weapon on unsuspecting women but she also knew it came
and went with remarkable ease. But she didn’t care—not tonight.

Luke clearly did though. She could feel the disapproval radiating off him in waves and she felt just a little triumphant.

‘You like?’ she asked, performing a sexy pivot from side to side for full effect, flirting just a touch.

‘You make all the men go a little crazy here tonight, I think.’ He grinned. ‘What you say,
Miss Avery?’ he asked.

‘Definitely.’ Avery smiled as she greeted Raoul. He held out his hand and she placed hers inside, grinning when he kissed it.

‘Raoul,’ Jonah said, half standing as Raoul’s attention shifted and the two men shook hands.

‘And who do we have here?’ Raoul asked as his gaze came to rest on Luke.

‘This is Luke,’ Claudia said, jumping in before Luke, who didn’t
look inclined to chit-chat, could say anything abrupt. ‘Raoul’s company runs our Latin dance classes and Latin nights at the Tropicana,’ she said.

She thought it was best not to introduce Raoul as her lover, no matter how much she wanted to make Luke squirm. Truth was it had been too long to claim him as that any more.

‘Ah,’ Raoul said. ‘This is the famous Luke.’ He held out his hand.
‘Nice to finally meet you. I have heard much about you.’

Luke vaguely remembered now seeing Raoul at a function when he’d come back last year to work out what they were going to do about being handed the management of the resort. He shook the other man’s hand when what he really wanted to do was to demand that
Raoul
remove his other hand from Claudia’s waist.

There was no way that hand
said anything other than
mine
.

‘Darling,’ Raoul said as he dropped Luke’s hand and returned his attention to Claudia. ‘They’re playing a cha-cha. Your favourite.’

Claudia didn’t need to be asked twice. Luke might disapprove but she’d been dying to dance the second she’d slipped the gorgeous red dress over her head. And she was going out there to shake her booty with the best dancer in
the room.

‘Lead the way,’ she said, ignoring Luke’s glowering, and allowed herself to be swept onto the dance floor.

Luke stood there stewing, watching as the other man walked off with Claudia.

His
Claudia.

And he did not like what he saw as the dancing began. The dance floor had cleared a little around Claudia and Raoul as people stopped dancing to watch—consequently he could
see every move they made. Thankfully the cha-cha didn’t appear to be a dance where the couples got too close and Mr Glitterpants seemed to be all about the rules of posture and body space and maintained his ruthlessly—Luke had seen enough clips from
Strictly Come Dancing
to know that.

But hell, if he had Claudia that close in that dress, the rules be damned.

He shook his head of the
useless thought.

‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ Avery enthused from across the table.

Luke, who was about ready to gouge his own eyes out, was grateful for the interruption. He turned back around to face Avery. ‘Yes, she is. Where’d she learn to dance like that?’

‘Raoul taught her.’ Avery gave him a wink. ‘Private lessons, I think.’

Luke bet he had. His lips tightened. He did not
want to think about Raoul and Claudia having private lessons.

‘We’re going to dance,’ Avery said, standing up, Jonah taking her hand and following suit. ‘You should ask Claudia to dance.’

Luke shook his head. ‘I don’t dance.’ Not like that anyway.

‘Sure you do,’ Avery teased. ‘All you have to do is hang on tight and shuffle your feet. That’s what Jonah’ll be doing.’

‘You got
that right.’ Jonah grinned.

The cha-cha music came to an end and another tune started up. ‘Oh, I love this one!’ Avery exclaimed and dragged Jonah onto the dance floor leaving Luke to his indecision.

Luke wasn’t entirely sure what
this one
was but as Raoul’s swivel hips got a bit too near Claudia’s it was evidently going to be a lot more up close and personal than the cha-cha.

A little
too
up close and personal for his liking.

Before he knew it he was on his feet and storming onto the dance floor.

* * *

Claudia shut her eyes, pleased to be losing herself in the music and the syncopation of the dance. Raoul had taught her all she knew and was an excellent dance partner. Luckily on the dance floor he let all his ego and pretentions drop and just became one
with the rhythm. Dancing with him was like dancing with the notes as they floated in the air.

And then Luke came along and ruined it. She heard a firm, ‘May I cut in,’ and opened her eyes to find Luke tapping Raoul
very
firmly on the shoulder while staring at her.

Raoul, who’d also been lost in the dance, looked momentarily puzzled, but he was much too indoctrinated with the code of
the dance floor to deny Luke his request. There was an insane moment when she wanted to cling to Raoul’s shoulders and beg him not to leave her.

Luke didn’t really want to dance. He just didn’t want her to dance with Raoul. In her dress.
With no wrap
.

And there was also something slightly wild about Luke tonight. He didn’t look in the mood for anything light-hearted.

But then Raoul
was bowing slightly and saying, ‘Of course,’ and moving away and Claudia was left facing Luke on a crowded dance floor. One hand had slid onto her hip and she couldn’t decide if the skin beneath burned or tingled.

‘I didn’t think you could dance,’ she said waspishly.

Luke nodded. ‘I can’t dance like that,’ he said. Raoul was all about keeping the frame and executing the moves perfectly.
He was a dancer.

Luke wasn’t
.

‘But I can dance like this,’ he said and yanked her body hard against him.

Claudia gasped at the sudden intimate contact. It was completely out of left-field and she hadn’t had time to prepare for the impact. And then he started to move and things rubbed and there was friction and it felt so good—better than any expert dance move Raoul could pull—and
she knew he felt it too as his hand tightened on her hip.

She wasn’t sure she could do this with Luke. This was twenty years of friendship on the line.

‘This isn’t dancing,’ she murmured, the husky note in her voice cutting straight through the music.

‘No. But it’s real. It’s not some fake display for Raoul to advertise his business.’

Claudia looked up into his face. Way up.
She’d forgotten how tall he was. Or at least how much taller he was compared to her. Raoul, for all his Spanish good looks, didn’t quite make six foot and she had to readjust her centre.

His smooth jaw was just there and she could smell his spicy-sweet aftershave and if they’d been lovers, God help her, she would have stood on tiptoe and licked from the hollow of his throat all the way to
his chin.

But they weren’t.

‘Why does me dancing with Raoul bother you so much?’

Luke, who had been trying desperately to look anywhere else but Claudia, found himself looking down at her.

A mistake.

Two ripe swells of cleavage greeted him, pushed up and out of the V of her halter dress from the way he was holding her all smooshed up against him.

He wished he knew
the answer to her question but all he had were bone-headed Neanderthal reactions. Gut reactions.

Because I can’t stand the thought of him looking at your breasts. Any man here looking at them. I can’t stand knowing that he’s touched them.

Not when I haven’t. Not thoroughly anyway.

Yup. So not going to say that.

He dragged his gaze up to her face, her blue eyes glittering like
polished turquoise in the spotlights. ‘I don’t know why it bothers me,’ he said. ‘It just does.’

Claudia would have been knocked on her butt had she been sitting near a chair. She hadn’t expected such raw honesty from him and she didn’t know how she felt. Part of her wanted to run and hide. The other part
really
wanted to lick his neck.

So she did the mature thing: she unlocked her gaze
from his, dropping it to the patch of shirt that was right in front of her, and decided to change the subject. She cast around for something that would completely lampoon the warm buzz she could feel gathering down low as the delicious friction between them ramped up.

‘Why don’t you ever talk about Philippa?’

Luke stumbled slightly at the unexpected question. Bloody hell. She sure knew
how to kill the buzz. ‘There’s nothing to say,’ he said tersely, keeping his gaze trained on a spot over her shoulder.

Claudia refrained from rolling her eyes. That statement in itself was a big blaring warning signal to his mental health. ‘What happened with you two?’

Luke’s jaw. ‘I don’t really think it’s any of your business,’ he said.

Thinking about Philippa’s betrayal, her
infidelity, always left Luke feeling a little emasculated and he didn’t need that while dancing with a beautiful woman.

Even if it was Claudia. Who he shouldn’t be thinking about in relation to his masculinity.

Claudia fell silent for a few moments and just swayed to the music, but that was worse. Because that left her thinking and her thoughts were far from pure.

Far from sensible.

All she could think about was how her breasts rubbed against his chest, how hard and meaty his shoulder felt in her palm and the crazy thump in her groin as their bottom halves rubbed together and things got a little heated down there.

‘You broke your mother’s heart, you know?’ she said.

Again, another comment out of the blue but it was something she’d always wanted to say to him.
Marrying Philippa and not inviting his parents had really hurt Gloria. She’d made a big deal out of being understanding but Claudia had been just outside the door when Gloria had broken down on her mother’s shoulder and it had been heart-wrenching to hear.

Maybe it wasn’t a fair thing to say but Luke had lived a fairly selfish life for a decade, far away from how many of his decisions had
affected them all. Moving to the UK the first chance he got, getting married, not wanting anything to do with the resort.

It was his life and these were his decisions to make but they still had an emotional ripple effect.

Luke kept his eyes firmly fixed over her shoulder. ‘When I moved to London? I know.’

Claudia shook her head. ‘No. When you married Philippa and didn’t invite her
to the wedding.’

‘What?’ Luke forgot about not looking at her as he searched Claudia’s face, forgot about dancing. ‘We didn’t invite
anyone
to the wedding. It wasn’t a...
wedding
...’ he spluttered, ‘with the dress and the cake and the...other stuff. It was a quick trip to the register office in our lunch break then back to work. We didn’t even go on a honeymoon for three months.’

Claudia
blinked at him and barely managed to suppress a shudder. It sounded horrible. No wonder Philippa had left him. She’d known exactly the kind of wedding she wanted from the age of six. A full-on romantic affair on the beach just outside their doorstep and a huge reception at the Tropicana.

‘You know your parents would have travelled halfway round the world to be there with you when you got
married regardless of how you chose to go about it.’

A spike of guilt lanced Luke as the truth in Claudia’s words found their mark and slashed hard. ‘We didn’t invite anyone,’ he reiterated. ‘Not even Philippa’s parents.’

Claudia shrugged. ‘Okay.’

‘Mum seemed okay with it when I spoke to her.’

It had never been his intention to hurt his mother and if he’d had any inkling that
would be the outcome he would have paid for them both to fly over.

Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘Of course she did, you idiot. You were blissfully happy and she didn’t want to burst your bubble or burden you with her disappointment. She’s your mother—she was never going to put a guilt trip on you.’

‘But I suppose you have no compunction?’

‘Strangely enough, tonight I don’t, no.’

Luke glared down at her. He knew exactly how she felt. ‘It’s a strange old night,’ he said.

A trill undulated in her belly at the intensity in his gaze. ‘Amen,’ she muttered.

Their eyes locked momentarily before they glanced away from each other. Luke resumed dancing and Claudia followed suit. He
had
been happy, he remembered.
Blissfully happy
. It seemed like a long time ago now and time
had mired it in such bitter memories, but he’d really thought Philippa was the one.

‘Maybe that’s why it failed...your marriage.’

Luke faltered again slightly but kept going. Dancing with Claudia like this was the sweetest torture. All soft and warm against him despite her sharp tongue and prickles.

‘Oh, this ought to be good,’ he said derisively. ‘Please
do
share why you think
my marriage failed.’