by Nana Prah
Dante willed the music to play forever. Once Lanelle let go of her stiff and demanding demeanor and melted into him, everything changed.
Her tall, lithe frame fit well into his. For those precious moments they formed a fluid connection. When the song ended, they continued with the same languorous movements, which could barely be interpreted as dancing.
An up-tempo beat blared through the system. Hesitant to distance himself from Lanelle’s sweet rose scent and perfect body, he summoned his strength and took a step back. Pleased it took her a few seconds to lift her eyelids, he angled himself farther back, though that didn’t dim the need to kiss her. But at least it made her less accessible.
“Unless we want to swing dance, we should get off the floor.”
She broke eye contact first. For a moment he thought she’d break out into dance when she tapped her foot to the tune before walking away.
Caught up in her essence, he had no choice but to follow.
This time at the bar she ordered sparkling water as she slipped onto the stool. After her first sip, she raised an eyebrow. Needing no further prompting, Dante said, “I’m doing work for the hospital. When they sent me the invitation, I thought it would be a good way to network.”
“At a thousand dollars a plate?”
He hoped the lift of his shoulder exhibited the nonchalance he attempted to portray. Lanelle had his insides tied in knots. What is it about her? “I figure it’s for a good cause. Besides, I’m doing the flooring on the hospital wing they threw this fund-raiser for.”
Lanelle’s hand fluttered to her throat, and a soft “oh” came out.
Dante expected her to say more after such a strange reaction. “And what brings you here?” he asked when she remained quiet.
Her eyes widened the slightest bit before she stated, “Toshia planned this event, and I wanted to support her. Didn’t she do a brilliant job?” Lanelle held up a hand to the side of her mouth and stage-whispered, “I happen to know she did it under budget. So if you’re looking for an event planner, you might want to give Toshia a try.”
Those words had to be the most she’d said to him at one time. The woman was too couth to babble. And yet she had. Maybe he’d misjudged her. Or she’s hiding something.
The drink in Lanelle’s hand disappeared as she drained it. When ice cubes remained, she sucked one in and chewed.
He clenched his teeth together as the sound grated in his ears. He must’ve winced because she stopped and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you.”
“How could you have known listening to someone chew ice is worse than nails on a chalkboard for me?”
“Do they make those anymore?”
“I’m not sure. All I remember is my classmates using it as a form of torture when they went to the board.”
“Did you ever have to clap the erasers?”
He chuckled at the memories that dredged up. “It was my favorite job. I loved creating a cloud of chalk dust. Plus, it got me out of the classroom.”
She scrunched her nose. “I hated it. The teacher would make me do it as a punishment.”
“For what? You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d get into any sort of trouble.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Their gazes held. I’m sure I would be. He couldn’t let her slip away again. Vanessa wouldn’t be the only one who got the chance to enjoy her company. “About our date. Are you free tomorrow?”
A flicker of her eyes to the right and upward told him she was about to lie. He hated liars. Before she could speak, he reminded her, “Destiny has brought us together. You owe me a date. You said it yourself in the parking lot.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“And? We could do something fun.”
Lanelle lifted her glass, and just as she opened her mouth to take a piece of ice, she stopped and placed it on the bar, pushing it away. With less enthusiasm than he would’ve liked, she asked, “What time?”
“Will you be going to church tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“What time does the service end?”
“Ten.”
Dante chuckled. “No all-day worship for you?”
Lanelle smiled. “I’m good with a couple of hours.”
“Me, too. How about if I pick you up at eleven? We could go to brunch.”
Her dramatic sigh made him think she’d rather dip her toe in a pond filled with crocodiles than go out with him. “How about we meet somewhere? At the restaurant would be good.”
“Ever been to Peaches ’n’ Cream?”
“Yes.” She hopped off the bar stool. “See you there tomorrow at eleven.” Backing up a step, she hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “I promised I’d take care of some things for Toshia so she could leave early with her husband.”
“Are you an event planner, too?”
“With my anal-retentive organizational skills, I could be, but no.”
“What do you do?”
The step she was about to take faltered, and Dante reached out to steady her. He couldn’t help himself from bending his head toward her when her gaze dropped to his lips. Enticed by the heat from her silky skin, he caressed her arm. Clasping a hand at the back of her neck, he went for what he’d been dreaming about since he’d first met her.
Before he could reach his goal, he yelped in pain. Without drawing attention to them, Lanelle held his pinkie in some kind of death grip.
He hissed in a breath when she made the tiniest move to the left. “That hurts.”
Her lips curled up in a vicious smile. “I know. Do you remember what I told you when we first met?”
No thought other than getting his finger out of her mean grip came to mind. “Refresh my memory,” he gritted out. To the crowd, they must have looked like a normal couple, touching in an almost intimate way. The control she had over him with just his pinkie in her possession humbled more than embarrassed him. “Can you please let go, first?”
She did as he asked. He massaged his poor finger behind his back. As the pain diminished, the memory surfaced. “You said you could take me down.”
“Yes. And you didn’t believe it. I’d appreciate if you didn’t touch me again.” She angled her head in a silent warning.
Her reaction had been extreme. She could’ve told him no and he would’ve backed off. What had happened in her life to make her use violence as a first resort? Or was she one of those women who’d rather fight than communicate?
He could explain he’d touched her only to ensure her safety. But it would be a lie. It may have started that way, but it had transitioned into more. He’d been about to kiss her.
Even now, knowing she could land him on the floor without breaking a sweat, he wanted to swipe a lock of hair off her forehead, and her lips still beckoned. Would they be as soft as her cheek had been against his while they’d danced? Softer, his brain teased.
How could he keep the promise he was about to make? “As you wish.”
A curt nod and she left. If only she’d take the throbbing in his pinkie and the need to hold her again with her.
* * *
Would her legs support her? Still shaken from the encounter with the sexiest man on the planet, Lanelle barely made it to the auction table. She placed her hands against it to help support her weight. Her knees seemed to have changed consistency.
What got into me? She shook her head, attempting to figure out if she was more upset about almost kissing Dante or preventing it from happening. Causing him pain had been her instinctive reaction to stop her from making a colossal mistake. She didn’t need a man. Especially one who seemed to move through life on so much testosterone it formed a cloud around him.
She had no excuse for attacking him, other than pure terror at wanti
ng his kiss so much. She’d panicked and she hated that she’d been driven to it.
Her little self-defense move should’ve made him cancel their date. Who wanted to go out with an unpredictable woman who spouted off about destiny? Obviously Dante did. Maybe she should reassess him.
If she were to date again, it would be with someone predictable. Someone she could depend on to support her, even when life became so demanding they’d wonder if they’d make it through. Yet they’d buoy each other, knowing they’d survive any problem attempting to plow them over.
No such man existed. She preferred the thought of being alone for the rest of her life over getting her heart broken again. Especially when she wouldn’t give him children.
A hand at the small of her back preceded a deep voice asking, “Are you okay?”
She jumped and turned with her arms in a defensive position. She relaxed when Miguel came into view. She had to calm down; otherwise, she’d put someone in the hospital.
Miguel held both hands up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Lanelle admired her brother’s handsome face. She could see why the cameras and women loved him. She used to love braiding his soft, curly hair when they were younger. Now the ringlets falling over his forehead brought out the onyx color of his eyes. “You know how I am with surprises.”
Miguel’s smile displayed a double onslaught of dimples. “You detest them. Who was the guy you were dancing with? You two looked cozy.”
“Just a guy I met a month ago at the hospital.” Simple and to the point.
Miguel stroked his goatee. “Hmm. Then why’d you have him in one of your infamous pinkie grips when he got a little close?”
Mortified, Lanelle covered her face with both hands and groaned. She could’ve ruined the whole party with her impetuous maneuver. Miguel pulled her hands down. “You used that move on me so many times I can recognize it anywhere. No one else even noticed.” He tipped her chin upward so she had to look him in the eyes. “Not that it wasn’t funny as hell to see it happening to someone else for once, but what ticked you off that much?”
“Nothing,” she said. Other than Dante’s attempt to give her the kiss she’d desired, up until the point when their lips had almost touched.
“Are you sure? He may look tough, but I think I could take him.”
Lanelle laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.” To keep from telling him that she and Dante would be going on a date tomorrow, she said, “And thank you so much for being here tonight. Your presence made a huge impact.”
Miguel blew on his nails and wiped them on his tuxedo jacket to polish them. “It’s because I’m the man.”
“More like the party boy of the tabloids.”
He shrugged. “That, too.”
She hugged Miguel with gratitude and love. When she pulled away, an uncomfortable chill shimmied down her spine. Lanelle looked toward the bar and found Dante watching her, his face expressionless. But even from this distance she could feel the coldness of his eyes. He had no right to be upset; they weren’t dating. Then why did she feel like explaining that Miguel was her brother when she rarely told people she was an Astacio?
The man had her reacting in the strangest ways, and she couldn’t have it. She was known as the levelheaded one in the family.
She sucked in a deep breath as she looked away from Dante’s penetrating gaze. On their date tomorrow, she’d focus their conversations on his work at the hospital. Maybe she’d gain some insight into the missing money. After that, they’d never see each other again.
She scoffed at the thought. The way things were going, they’d probably end up meeting each other on a daily basis until he wore her down. She had no doubt his overwhelming charm eventually would if they stayed in contact.
With him working on the NICU’s floors, it might be difficult to avoid him when they did inspections. Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t be around. Or would she be even luckier if he was?
Chapter 7
If Lanelle wanted space, then he’d create a chasm so wide it would take a jet to cross until she loosened up and wanted to close the distance. Why didn’t he just cancel the date? Granted, he had no right to touch her last night without obtaining her permission, but there had been something powerful drawing them together. He thought she’d felt it, too. Obviously not.
Watching her the night before with Miguel Astacio didn’t help.
Dante shook off the self-doubt. He hadn’t imagined the attraction, yet he somehow knew she didn’t want to like him.
This was why he never let women get under his skin anymore. They held all the power. It didn’t take much for them to make a man crazy. Short-term relationships with little emotional attachments worked best for him. Anything else morphed into a disaster.
He refused to dwell on the relationship he’d had with his ex-fiancée in college, who’d claimed to love him but had only been using him while on campus. He’d learned way too late that when she went home, she hooked up with her rich boyfriend. He’d been wary of dating anyone for years after that.
Once he’d started earning some good money, women approached him. It had taken getting hurt a couple of times to realize that keeping things light was the best way to handle those encounters.
At five minutes to eleven, Dante stepped into the restaurant.
The hostess greeted him with a bright smile. “Hi, how many, please?”
“Table for two, please. My companion will be joining me shortly.” Dante liked the sound of the sentence.
“Please follow me.”
She led him to a table on the terrace, where they could enjoy the bright, sunny day. “The waiter will be with you in a moment.”
Distracted as he’d been by Lanelle’s heady perfume last night and the memory of the feel of her flush against him, phone numbers had been the last thing on his mind. So he’d neglected to get her number. By the time he’d thought about it, he’d stormed out of the ballroom, unable to stand watching her with another man.
Within moments, he looked up and saw the star of his fantasies scanning the room. Dante wiped his damp hands on his black trousers before standing to wave at her. Unlike with other women he’d met and dated, he had no idea how to behave around Lanelle. One wrong move could get him sent to the hospital. It would be worth it.
Be yourself, but don’t touch her. Tempt her enough so she can’t refuse another date with you. No problem.
His friends didn’t call him a ladies’ man for nothing. And then she stepped onto the terrace. His mouth dried at the sight of her within touching distance in a yellow-and-white polka-dot dress. He could barely remember his middle name, much less his manners, as she strode to the table. He just hoped he didn’t embarrass himself.
No woman will ever get the best of you. Be cool and get what you want.
* * *
Lanelle didn’t hear a single murmur of conversation in the restaurant as she approached the table. She wished Dante would stop whatever he was doing to make her heart speed up. How would she get through this brunch?
She found it impossible to tear her gaze away. God should seriously think about banning the combination of sharp features, light eyes, smooth, dark skin and a slow, sensual grin. A flash of what she’d missed last night as his full lips had come within inches of touching hers rent a moan of regret from her throat.
Maintaining a neutral expression in an attempt to avoid revealing her excitement at being near him, she nodded as he stood and pulled out her chair. “Good morning.”
Dante held out his hand to Lanelle. She hesitated before reaching out. She braced herself for the anticipated electric shock that would follow his touch and wasn’t disappointed when it happened. The warmth of their contact spread through her, and she had no desire to let go.
When he released her hand
, she dropped it into her lap.
Before things could get too awkward between them, the waiter came and they ordered their drinks. As a unit, they went to the buffet line to get their food. Lanelle chose to have a specialty omelet of mushrooms, green peppers, onions and cheese made. While she waited for her food, she watched Dante load his plates. “You know you can come back for more, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “You’d better believe I will, too.”
He waited until her eggs had been cooked and then led her to their table.
As they ate, she racked her brain. She’d always prided herself on her conversational skills. But today all thoughts other than the thrill of being near Dante again had vanished. The standard opener had to do. “It’s a beautiful day.”
He seemed to contemplate her as he finished chewing. “I can’t argue. It’s just that...”
“What?”
“Being with you outshines the day.”
She swallowed hard. Crap.
* * *
Judging from how quiet Lanelle became during the meal after his compliment, Dante realized he may have laid it on a little too thick. “Listen. I know I may not have another opportunity to get to know you, so I wanted to dive into it.” He let a slick grin slip onto his face. “If I don’t like what you reveal, then I’ll have no regrets if you never want to see me again.”
“And if you like what I have to say?”
“Well, then, I’ll have to make sure we go out again, won’t I?”
She indicated toward his empty plates. “Are you going for more?”
Realizing how quickly their time together had flown, Dante rubbed his stomach. “I have just enough space for a slice of the crumb cake I noticed on the dessert table and a cup of coffee.” He stood and offered his hand. “Interested in joining me?”
Lanelle stared at his hand for an interminable amount of time before pushing her chair back and grabbing it. Once she’d stood, she didn’t let go, and neither did he. Tempted to walk out of the restaurant with the heat of her fingers wrapped around his rather than go to the dessert table, he enjoyed those precious moments as he took them to their destination.