HER ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE - (20 page)

BOOK: HER ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE -
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So she turned her head and looked up at him with a challenging quirk of her eyebrows. 'How do I even know you can dance? You might have two left feet.'

Kane turned round, switching his hands as he leaned a little closer to her face, his deep voice low and deliciously seductive. 'Let's find out, shall we?'

Rhiannon let him guide her through the crowd to the sitting room, where all of the furniture had been cleared to turn it into a mini ballroom. And when they were surrounded by swaying couples he turned and drew her forward into his arms, waiting until her hands rose to clasp behind his neck before he drew her closer and began to sway them to the music.

Rhiannon let her thumbs brush against the short hair at the nape of his neck; she breathed in the hint of cinnamon, relaxed back on to the band of his arms and couldn't, for the life of her, tear her gaze from his.

She was officially smitten.

But it was perfect. And surely she couldn't be damned forever for wanting one perfect moment with him?

He smiled another slow, sensual smile with the kind of warmth she felt seep in to melt her bones.

'See, I don't have two left feet.'

She smiled back at him. 'Its early days.'

'Time will tell.' He leaned a little closer. 'How come we've never danced together before?'

Oh, they'd danced. They'd danced more than he probably realized. It felt as if she'd spent most of her life dancing
with
him and
around
him.

'We did that seventies disco night that one time.'

He laughed, his large hands flattening against her back, smoothing the material over her skin in small, slow, gentle sweeps. 'Ah, but back then, with us, that wasn't dancing. It was foreplay.'

With her hips swaying in time with his, Rhiannon wasn't entirely convinced that what they were currently doing wasn't exactly the same thing. Telling herself she'd blame the three glasses of wine she'd had when she looked back on it all in the morning, she didn't try to brush aside what he'd said or make a sarcastic comment in reply. Instead, she simply looked at him from beneath lowered lashes, damping her lips before she told him, 'You had a very one track mind back then.'

Kane grumbled his reply. 'Only because you were a bad influence on me.'

'I remember how much persuasion it took.'

He nodded, his hands continuing their slow smoothing over her back. 'I guess, considering the law of percentages, we were always likely to have a chance of making a Lizzie, weren't we?'

'Yes.' The word was almost a whisper. 'Nothing is ever a one hundred per cent guarantee.'

'No. But sometimes, even when we know that, we still take a chance. Maybe there's just no stopping something that's meant to be.' He drew her in closer as he spoke, so that the last words were said directly above her ear.

Rhiannon's eyelids grew heavy so she closed her eyes, surrendering to the waves of sensuality, while her heart ached all over again for what she couldn't have. It'd been like this last time, hadn't it? Maybe it had even been the start of what she felt now. Had she been falling in love back then and not realized? Was that why she'd fallen so quickly this time?

'Sometimes it's worth having a little faith that things will eventually work out the way they're supposed to, no matter what mistakes we make along the way.'

Rhiannon's eyes opened and she frowned. What did he mean by that? Was she starting to imagine that he was hinting at something he wasn't because she wanted him to want more? But, when she leaned back against his arms to try and read his expression, he was looking over her head.

'Aha, I see my daughter. And you're right, she does look gorgeous.' He flashed a smile over at Lizzie. 'I'd better go dance with her too.'

Rhiannon nodded, her brain still feeling fluffy. 'I think she'd love that.'

He leaned back, dropping his chin to look into her eyes. 'I'm glad we're friends now, Mac'

Her own words.
And he may as well have stabbed her in the chest. It certainly couldn't have hurt any less. But she managed to nod again, to smile a small smile, even if she had to look away from his eyes to do it. 'Me too.'

He released her, stepped sideways and then completely surprised her, twisting the knife at the same time, by placing a soft, fleeting kiss against her cheek before stage whispering into her ear, 'And, just in case I haven't already said it: you look very beautiful tonight. But then you were always beautiful.'

Rhiannon stood in the centre of the dance floor for a moment so she could blink back the tears that had formed at the back of her eyes, so that she could swallow hard and take a couple of deep breaths, to gain control before she pinned her hostess smile back on.

How in hell was she going to get through this?

She moved back into the crowd, shaking hands with people, listening to stories about Brookfield and Mattie's family. And then, halfway between two groups, she caught sight of Kane escorting Lizzie to the dance floor so she slipped back a little to watch.

He bowed, Lizzie giggled and Rhiannon smiled affectionately at them both. They were just so very alike—the two people she loved the most.

She swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes again, while Kane lifted Lizzie up into his arms, her slender arms around his neck and legs swinging below his waist as they started to dance. It was the most beautiful thing Rhiannon had ever seen—heartbreakingly beautiful. And agonizing—because the need to walk over and join them, to dance with Kane with Lizzie held between them—was so strong it almost killed her.

This was the way her life was going to be from now on— standing on the outside looking in. And if it weren't for the seventy guests in her house she'd have disappeared upstairs so she didn't have to watch it.

Yet another deep breath, yet another lift of her chin, because she had to get on with it, didn't she? Standing and watching wasn't going to feel any better after ten minutes.

And she managed it, just. She got through the rest of the evening, even though she was constantly aware of where Kane was at any given time, of the people he was talking to—particularly the women—of the sound of his voice when he was close by or his scent as he walked past. And she even managed to smile across at him when he looked at her. But, as the night drew to a close and they stood side by side at the front doors waving goodbye to the last of the guests, watching their cars circle as they drove off the gravel, Rhiannon felt her mouth go dry, her heart beat a little louder, felt that no matter how many breaths she took she couldn't seem to get enough air into her lungs.

The door clicked shut and she rested her palm on its cool surface for a moment before turning round and flashing a small smile at him. 'I'll have to go check that Lizzie actually went to bed when I sent her an hour ago. Any clearing up can wait till the morning.'

'I checked; she's out for the count. You throw a hell of a party, Mac.'

Half of her really wished he would stop using the old nickname. It didn't help any. But then neither did his falling into step beside her as she walked to the staircase.

'Well, I did have some help from the Committee. They're an enthusiastic bunch.' She lifted her long skirt to negotiate the stairs, her focus on her feet so that she didn't notice him reaching out for her elbow until the searing heat of his touch burnt her skin.

When her breath caught his fingers tightened. 'Lizzie told me you arranged most of it, though, right down to the colours of the flowers and moving furniture under your own steam.'

She swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on not tripping. 'It all came together in the end.'

His warm fingers eased a little against her elbow, widened, smoothed over her skin in a caress she felt clean to the soles of her feet. Didn't he have
any
idea what he was doing to her?

But when they reached the landing and Rhiannon tried to gently pull her elbow free, he froze her to the spot with a flat toned, 'Did you love Stephen?'

'What?' Her head rose sharply. Where had that come from?

'Did you?'

'Why?' Rhiannon really didn't see what it had to do with anything. And she certainly didn't want to stand and confess to the man she'd made the biggest mistake of her life with, the details of the second biggest mistake she'd ever made.

He confused her even further by smiling wryly, his blue eyes studying her face intently. 'Because I think when I knew you'd married him was when I started hating you as much as you hated me.'

It was the very last thing she would ever have expected him to say and yet a part of her almost shouted with joy at the very idea of him being jealous. Which was ridiculous—it wasn't what he was saying, was it?

'It had nothing to do with you by then.'

'No, but it still bugged the hell out of me.'

Oh, she knew what he was saying now. And it was yet another twist of the damn knife! So she turned away as she spoke, determined she wouldn't show him how much he'd just hurt her. 'Because you thought Lizzie was his and that meant I had to have been with him right after I was with you, that's why. We already covered all that.'

He reached for her elbow again, tugged her round and then marched her backwards until she had her back against the wall. And when Rhiannon let go of her skirt, he took hold of both of her wrists, his thumbs moving back and forth against her erratic pulse. 'Yes, that was one element of it. But hell, Mac, it was
Stephen
—it was a constant competition for him to have what was mine. I thought you knew that.'

Her heart caught on the 'what was mine'. Was that how he'd thought of her then? She searched his eyes for the answer and found him searching her eyes the same way, the air crackling between them.

'It had nothing to do with me marrying him.'

'Then make me understand.'

She was completely distracted by the movement of his thumbs on her wrists, so it took a moment for her to weigh up the pros and cons of telling him the truth.

His mouth curled into another devastating smile. 'And now you're trying to decide whether or not to be honest with me, aren't you?'

'Do you have any idea how annoying it is when you do that? I mean,
really?'

'I seem to remember there were times when you liked that I knew what you were thinking.'

The words were pure seduction, especially when she knew
exactly
what he was talking about. 'That was different. That had to do with the whole physical thing we had going.'

His voice dropped an octave. 'Don't worry, we'll get to that subject in a minute.'

Rhiannon swallowed a moan. She really couldn't take much more of this. She couldn't! And why in hell was he putting her through it?

'Did you love him?'

'No!' She threw the answer at him. 'There—happy now?'

He tilted his head to one side, shrugging his broad shoulders. 'It's a start. So if you didn't love him, then why did you marry him?'

If she stood there much longer she was going to cry in front of him, she really was. So she tugged her wrists and scowled at him when he wouldn't set her free. All right, he wanted to know why, then she'd damn well tell him why!

'Fine, then. If you really want to know, it was because
he
wanted to marry
me!'

The hold on her wrists tightened as he swore under his breath. And immediately Rhiannon pushed off the wall, standing on tiptoe to bring her face closer to his. 'And now you think he only wanted that to get at you in some way? Grow up, Kane! He was there and you weren't. He wanted to be with me and you didn't. It was nothing to do with you! And frankly, it still isn't, so let me go!'

'Did
he
love
you?'

'Is that so very hard for you to believe?'

The steady tone of his answer did her in. 'No, that I could understand a lot better now that I actually know you. I wouldn't blame him for feeling that.'

What did he mean by that? Because there was no way in hell he meant... This was
insane!
She shook her head.

'You're unbelievable. And they say
women
twist things.'

Out of nowhere, he released her hands. But, as she looked down in surprise, both of his hands rose to her waist and he stepped forward, pinning her back against the wall again so that the entire length of his hard, heated body was pressed intimately against hers.

It was like setting a match to touch paper.

Her blood rushed faster through her veins. Her heart pumped harder to help the blood to move at the increased speed. She wanted him
so
badly!

'So you married him because he loved you, and because you were alone, and because you had a baby to support. You married him for security, right?'

'I didn't give a damn about his money, if that's what you mean.' Her words were breathless, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she fought for air. And if the truth was the only escape route she had, then she had to take it. 'I could have supported Lizzie, I'd done it up until then. He wasn't as bad as you think he was. He was charming and funny and
uncomplicated.
And when he asked me to marry him, I told myself that it was better to go into marriage without love as the basis for it. Or, or—
this
—this thing
we
had.'

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