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to leave early to help with the … catering.” A warm, large hand drifted over her thigh, the tips of his fingers stroking her cold flesh, inching closer to where all her warmth huddled.
    She flicked his hand away and scooted as far on the left of the chair as she could. She wanted her time with Declan to be private and end without any drama. Even an innocent rumor about them could cause drama she didn’t want or need.
    “Oh, of course. Well, do enjoy your meal. I believe the food is wonderful. And you must come for coffee one day soon.”
    Cait ate in silence. She wanted to go home with Declan and have him ravish her. And then she wanted to forget him and move on with her life. This sex game in public was getting to her. Too many people looked at him with some sort of awed interest, and always being close to him by his doing meant she was included in that picture. Luckily for her, Maria kept Declan engaged in constant conversation, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally feeling her up. The minute he took his hand away, she shivered and hated her body’s dependence on him to keep warm.
    Once their meal ended, she wasted no time in distancing herself from him. Again her luck panned out when he kept getting lured into conversation by serious-talking men and women who wanted to throw themselves at his feet. She rolled her eyes at him when a young stunning blonde, no more than twenty years old, latched herself to him.
    The acknowledgement that something similar to jealousy stirred in her heart annoyed her. She had no business getting jealous about the many women who ate him alive with their eyes. She wanted his body; she wanted to fuck his body, and then be done with it. Easy, peasy. Who he did after her, she didn’t care. And he wanted her, of course he did. He never took his eyes off her. Not once. And the ache in her pussy only doubled.
    When the sun started to set, the mellow music provided by a live band, playing softly in the background before, took center stage now. The bride and groom graced their audience with a dance, and then soon other couples filled the specially erected stage.
    Her heart stopped beating for a moment as he walked toward her. Did he have to be so distractingly gorgeous?
    “Dance with me.” His smooth proposal mingled in the notes of the placid music.
    “No.”
    She couldn’t dance with him in public. That would be like broadcasting that he had her panties in his pocket and she had the imprint of his mouth on her pussy. Frustration kicked her in the ribs when he turned away without a fight, without propositioning her into doing his bidding. Instead he asked Maria Castel to dance. The gleam of joy in her eyes was enough to make Cait want to hurl her maraschino ice-cream.
    But he didn’t stop there. He asked the stunning blonde next, and then seventy-two-year-old Mrs. Gotfield, and his aunt, and then some cute little five-year-old with flowers in her hair and lace socks on her legs.
    “Now will you dance with me?”
    She couldn’t contain her smile if she injected her lips with dentist drugs. She placed her hand in his and an electric charge surged through her. She knew his touch. Only hours after knowing it, she’d recognize it anywhere, blindfolded or in her sleep.
    He brought her between his legs, his hand spanned the lower part of her spine, and his other curled around her fingers and rested it against his chest. The strong steady beat of his heart comforted her. She felt safe cocooned in his arms. The people around her dispersed and disappeared from her mind and sight. She breathed in his scent, understated, a mingling of defiance and musk, juvenescence and man.
    “We fit,” he said, pulling her closer.
    Her body slid into him. She ached to run her hand through the silky thickness of his black hair. To pull him closer to her lips, to taste his mouth. He did strange things to her.
    “Why didn’t you dance with anyone?”
    “I couldn’t bear even the thought of another man