Page 32 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

“I was about to leave. I’d made it to my car, and then decided there was no way I could go until I did the one thing I truly wanted to do, Zara.”

The sound of his voice, deep, husky and sexy, always made her want to lean in closer. So she did. “And what is it that you truly want to do, Saint?”

“Dance with you.”

15

Saint studied Zara’s expression and noticed her thoughtful look. He figured she was recalling their earlier conversation about why they shouldn’t dance together. While watching that guy dance with her, song after song, he’d recalled it as well. That was why he hadn’t crossed the yard and cut in for a dance like he’d been tempted to do.

When he’d gotten so irritated that he couldn’t dance with her and someone else could, he had decided it was time to call it a night. Upon reaching his car he decided not to leave but to go back and do what he would hate himself for not doing in the morning. That was to dance with Zara and damn the consequences. But he knew it would be her decision to make. More than anything he hoped that she would dance with him.

She held his gaze for what seemed like a long moment before she smiled and said, “Yes, I’ll dance with you.”

“Are you sure?” There was no doubt in his mind she knew why he’d asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to dance with you, too, Saint.”

Pleased, Saint took Zara’s hand and led her to the dance floor just as the DJ started playing another slow song. The moment he drew her into his arms, intense heat rushed through his body. It had been two days since he’d seen her, and he had missed her. That in itself was odd, given that until she’d returned to Catalina Cove this time, he hadn’t seen or talked to her in two months. Yet, while holding her in his arms with her body pressed to his and inhaling her scent, it just felt so right.

As they swayed to the music, of their own accord, his hands moved from her waist to float across her back, and he didn’t give a damn who was watching. Nothing mattered other than the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms, dancing to this slow song.

He wanted to pull her closer but knew he had to at least keep things decent. When they were alone then they could get as indecent as they wanted. Usually, they did. They always managed to take hooking up to a whole new level. Heat curled his insides when he thought of some of those times. Making love to her was always an adventure. Neither held anything back in the bedroom.

As they continued to dance, her hips hit up against his front. Each time, he sucked in a groan from the sinfully erotic friction. After a while, he suspected she was doing it deliberately. He leaned down and whispered close to her ear, “Behave.”

She looked up at him, smiled and whispered back, “Make me.”

With her challenge, sexual excitement curled his stomach. When he gazed down at her something happened. First, he recognized the song being played. His mind became flooded with memories of the time he’d seen that look, when they’d danced to the same song that night in New Orleans.

He was fully aware when she’d remembered it, too. That was when she shifted her hands from his shoulders to place her arms around his neck. But he hadn’t expected her to lean in on tiptoes and kiss him. He’d been so taken by the way her lips felt pressed against his that he hadn’t hesitated in kissing her back.

It was only when he heard the catcalls and whistles that he realized what they were doing and broke off the kiss. By then the damage was done. Just like that night in New Orleans, they’d kissed in the middle of the dance floor. Unlike that night, when the observers had been strangers, their very public display of affection had been witnessed by a number of people who knew them.

Aww hell.

Saint was a man with a strong protective instinct, especially when it came to people he cared about. He knew that Zara could take care of her own business and that she resented anyone who tried to handle it for her. But he could foresee that kiss impacting her reputation, and not giving a damn about what people thought wouldn’t cut it.

This called for some form of damage control. Over her shoulders he’d caught a glimpse of a fuming Samantha. Some women could be catty—deliberately so. They wouldn’t like the fact that he had refused to dance with them yet had not only danced with Zara but kissed her for all to see. She might not have a problem with anyone gossiping about her, but he did. He knew his and Zara’s history. Others did not.

Her arms were still draped around his neck, and he could feel the intense energy crackling between them. Their bodies were in sync, and she was back to brushing her hips against his front. Each time she did so his heart rate increased.

He was just about to suggest they stop dancing after the song ended, when he gazed into her eyes. The ones staring back at him were intense and seductive. His eyes moved to lips still wet from their kiss. “Saint?”

There was a deep pounding in his chest just from the sound of his name from those lips. “Yes?”

“I won’t apologize for kissing you.”

He lifted his gaze back to her eyes. “And I won’t apologize for kissing you back.”

“Good.”

Zara and Saint stayed on the dance floor through a few more slow songs before he finally said, “I think we need to leave now.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll follow you home because we need to talk.”

After passing through the security gate, Zara drove down the access road toward the pier. A glance in her rearview mirror indicated Saint was still behind her. He’d said they needed to talk, and she had a feeling although he said he didn’t regret it, the talk would be about their kiss.

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