Bestselling Authors Collection 2012(172)

As if.

Hot tears prickled her eyes.

‘Sophy!’ Rosanna looked horrified. ‘I’ve made you cry.’

‘It’s okay.’ She tried to pull it together, but the salty water trickled down her cheeks. Yeah, she had wanted that. It had been the private fantasy that had got her through the last few hours. ‘Thanks so much for doing that. It means a lot.’

It hadn’t been him, of course it hadn’t. She’d been an idiot to think it ever could have been. No, it was her best friend who’d done it for her. She’d been the one to turn up. Sophy knew she should stick to the sisterhood. Men were overrated. ‘You know what?’ She sniffed and reached for her handbag. ‘I am going to come out with you tonight.’

She was not going to go home and wallow. She wasn’t going to waste one more minute of her life mooning over Lorenzo. She had too much to celebrate tonight. She was going to go dancing.

The bar was pumping. Sophy followed Rosanna to the dance floor. Rosanna had sent a text ahead and Emmett and Jay were waiting with drinks for them.

‘Thank you, darlings.’ Rosanna kissed them both.

Sophy managed a smile and downed half her glass’s contents in one shot.

Jay’s brows lifted and he took her arm. ‘Come on, you look like you need a laugh.’

Oh, she did. Jay was a great dancer—held her close, had slick moves and didn’t once make her feel as if she was his second choice partner—though she knew full well she was. She felt her body relaxing into the relentless beat—it blocked all thought from her head and dulled the pain. Yeah, this had been a great idea. She’d dance ‘til dawn and then maybe she’d be able to sleep. She stood on tiptoes so he had a chance of hearing her. ‘Thanks, Jay. I’ll put in a word for you.’

He slid his hand round her waist and chuckled. ‘Every little bit helps. But it’s not Emmett I’m worried about. It’s the bar dude.’ He nodded over to the side.

Sophy turned to look. From behind the bar Vance stood tall, positively glaring over at where the four of them were dancing. She couldn’t stop the little laugh. But then it died because someone else stepped up from the back of the bar. Even taller than Vance, Lorenzo was glaring even harder—right at her.

She spun back to face Jay. ‘Shall we dance some more?’

‘Sure.’ He pulled her closer.

But her heart was racing and she could hardly hear the music above the noise in her ears. Only one song later she pushed away. ‘I’m just going to freshen up.’

She ran cold water over her hands and wrists, trying to cool down and slow her pulse. Then she got her lipstick out and took care repairing her slightly worn look. Then she simply stared at her reflection and wished she could teleport out of there. She really hadn’t liked the look in Lorenzo’s eyes.

Finally she left the room. He was leaning against the wall in the corridor, his eyes fixed on the door. She paused—stood back to let another woman past before taking the step clear of the doorway. But she kept her distance from him. Knew getting past him was going to be difficult. He looked like a panther about to pounce.

‘You look like you’re having a good time,’ he drawled.

So did he—his hair was tousled, his eyes burning. He looked as if he’d been propping up the bar for hours.

‘I am.’ She made herself act perky.

‘With one of Rosanna’s cast offs,’ he muttered.

‘He’s charming. He’s good company. He doesn’t take himself too seriously.’

Was that a snort?

She glared at him. ‘Why are you so dressed up?’ Although the tie was gone it was definitely a tux he was wearing. And even though he wore it carelessly, he wore it too well for her comfort.

He shrugged. ‘How did it go?’

‘I didn’t think you were interested.’ She couldn’t stop the bitchiness.

He lifted away from the wall. ‘Sophy.’

‘No.’ She straightened, getting ready to move. ‘I’ve got someone waiting for me.’ She moved fast to get past. But he pounced—just as she’d known he would.

Damn, his hands were fast and he was too strong. In seconds he’d pulled her into a room and locked the door. A toilet. Really classy.

But before she could even start in on the fury she felt he’d pulled her close. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back for him to kiss.

But he didn’t go for her mouth—no, it was her jaw, her neck, that spot beneath her ear that they both knew was so sensitive. She could smell the alcohol on him, could feel how thin his control was and then she felt his lips. That damn sweet tenderness that made her feel as if he was worshipping her with his mouth. She fell back, melting into the kisses; his furious passion rose in a flash, sweeping her away.