“True,” he said heavily, then recovered his usual nonchalance. “Here I am, dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room and she’s miles away.”
How could she be so rude? It was Damien she’d come to the dance with and he was more than just a lighthearted flirtation to her; he had become a friend. The lighting dimmed and the music changed to a slower, more romantic song. By the time Carly Simon began singing, Damien had slipped both of his hands around Anjuli’s waist and she’d laced hers around the back of his neck.
“Careful, gorgeous, if you get any closer the tongues will start wagging.”
“I promise I won’t compromise you.”
Damien’s concern for her reputation was sweet and rather old-fashioned, considering his other attitudes. So what if people thought they were having sex? The more Anjuli thought about the wagging tongues, the more irritated she became. Living in such a close-knit community again was generally great, but it had its negatives also.
It was as Ash always said: small town, big hell. Well, she was tired of worrying about people’s opinions. Of looking over her shoulder in case somebody was watching her, and measuring her words in case they were misinterpreted. If she wanted to slow dance with a handsome man, flirt and enjoy herself, then she bloody well would.
“I’ve had enough of living my life according to other people’s codes of behaviour,” Anjuli declared. “When I was famous the internet, the fans, the neighbour and his dog...everybody had something to say about me. I’m free of that world now and I’m not about to replace it with Heaverlock Village.” She lifted her chin. “Give me a whirl and hold me tight because I’m taking off the restraints.”
Damien laughed and twirled her before fitting her snugly against his chest. “Welcome to the dark side.”
Anjuli circled his waist with her hands, bringing their bodies as close as some of the other, more romantic couples. Her strap slipped off her left shoulder and, feeling reckless, she didn’t fix it. Damien’s quick intake of breath told her he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra.
She caught his heated look and smiled. “To hell with Heaverlock.”
And to hell with Rob. No more thinking about him or wondering about his business trip or if he was sleeping with Sarah. Rob had to remain part of her past, and Damien—well, he was a friend and maybe, just maybe, he would be the first of her short-term lovers. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, surprising him with her kiss.
He lifted her strap. “No more alcohol for you, young lady.”
“I haven’t had anything more intoxicating than freedom, but if you take me home I’ll remedy that.”
Anjuli kissed him again and this time he responded. Maybe if she tried it enough times she’d start to feel something for him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rob leave the room. Goodbye. Two notes, F sharp and D flat. She laid her head on Damien’s broad chest, breathing in his light aftershave all the way through Toni Braxton’s “Un-break My Heart.”
“You’re not going to fall asleep on me are you?” Damien teased. “Because then I’d have to do something to wake you up.”
Anjuli glanced at Rob’s table. Sarah looked peeved, scanning the room with a small frown on her face. No doubt when she came to the manor to take her pictures the smug reporter would tell her what Rob had said at breakfast.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off Mrs. Scott’s table all night. Is she okay?” Damien said.
Mac’s plump arms were crossed over her chest. She’d worn a long black skirt that fell below her knees and a simple grey top, buttoned to her neck. Ugh, she looked like a Mother Superior, frowning at them as they danced. Guilt gnawed at Anjuli for her recent neglect, but she’d pretended she didn’t see Mac’s jaunty wave as they were walking in. She would feel like Judas if she kissed her cheek and made another excuse for not phoning her.
Damien sighed. “She’s been staring daggers at me since we got here. I think she disapproves.”
“She thinks you’ll corrupt me.”
A frown. “I didn’t know I was so evil.”
Anjuli lifted her face. “You should talk to her some time. Once she sees how charming you are she’ll forgive you for being the village man-whore.”
Damien stopped dancing. “Man-whore?”
Uh-oh, one must be careful when taking off the restraints, including those on one’s tongue. “Mac didn’t say that, I did, after we met, but I’ve changed my mind. You’re not the village man-whore, you’re the village ‘oh-man-I-want-more.’”