When You Are Mine(18)

It was bad enough he'd had to watch Cam and Kerris together all summer.  Now he had those stolen moments in that hospital room to torture him.  Kerris's butter-soft skin, her sweet vanilla scent, the silky weight of  her hair. Damn, the feel of her leg under his hand and the firm curve of  her breast …

"Walsh, you're hurting my hand."

"What?" Walsh wrenched his gaze back to Jo, surprised to find her hand squeezed between his. "Shit. Sorry."

"Walsh, you know Cam is serious about Kerris, right?" Jo used her  don't-play-a-player voice on him. "He's going to propose again."

"What's that got to do with me?" Walsh's eyes itched to look away, but Jo pinned him to the wall with those orbs.

"Nothing." Jo threw the word at him low and hard like a ground ball he  couldn't catch before she threw the next one. "It's nothing to do with  you. Don't forget that."

"What are you two arguing about?" Cam asked. He and Kerris had crossed the room without their noticing.

"We're not arguing." Jo cleared her frown, offering a quick smile  designed to reassure Cam and Kerris. "I'm just reminding Walsh of a few  home truths."

"Unnecessarily." Walsh poured his displeasure into that one word and compressed his lips into a straight line around it.

"You look beautiful, Jo." Kerris offered his cousin a sweet smile.

"So do you." Jo softened her expression for Kerris. "Everyone can't wear that color, but it looks just right on you."

"Thanks." Walsh saw Kerris touch the lemon chiffon skirt and glance around at a cluster of well-dressed women.

"And those shoes are incredible." Jo pointed to Kerris's small feet.

Kerris smiled, looking down at the shoes, too. Kitten heeled, with  delicate gold straps and topped with a crystal orchid, they might have  been the most adorable things Walsh had ever seen on anyone's feet. And  thanks to his mother, he knew shoes. "Hey, looks like it's time for  dinner." Cam snagged Kerris's hand and leaned down to brush her cheek  with a kiss that lingered a moment, staking a subtle claim before  leading her away.

* * *



Walsh flashed a smile he'd been cultivating in expensive schools and  exclusive parties since he was twelve years old, hoping no one was the  wiser. As long as he avoided Jo and Cam at the other end of the long  table laughing with Kerris, he probably wouldn't be found out. One of  the Walsh Foundation's largest donors had questions about the orphanage  expansion under consideration, but Walsh struggled to focus. Sofie's  wandering hands weren't making it easy.                       
       
           



       

"Excuse me just one moment," he said to the silver-haired donor, turning in Sofie's direction. "Sof, we're friends, right?"

"At the very least, Walsh." Her eyes, set at a low boil, traced his features.

"And we've known each other a long time, right?" He lacquered his smile to a high shine for those watching them.

"Yeah, what are you getting at?" Sofie allowed a rare frown to pleat her perfectly smooth forehead.

"Well, given our history, I'd hate to embarrass you, but if you don't remove your hand from my very upper thigh, I will."

She flashed him a chagrined smile, shifting her slim hand under the table to his knee, where she squeezed for good measure.

"A girl's gotta try." No shame. "One day, Walsh, you'll be ready and I'll be right there waiting."

"Don't hold your breath." He made sure not to smile so she'd know he  meant it. "There's a line of guys waiting for you, Sof. Don't wait on  me."

"You're the one I want."

"It's not gonna happen."

"We're still young." She patted the knee she'd just squeezed. "You have wild oats to sow."

"We're friends. Leave it there."

"Walsh," his mother said from the head of the table a few feet north of him and Sofie. "Will you open the dancing with me?"

Walsh lobbed a silent yes-get-me-out-of-this expression to his mother.  She returned with a mama-always-knows smile. Walsh walked the few feet  down the table to extend his hand to his mother. She certainly didn't  look fifty, whatever that was supposed to look like. They stepped to the  center of the floor cleared for dancing.

"No Sam Whitby tonight?" Walsh asked.

"No Sam Whitby, period." She twisted her carefully painted mouth into a  resigned smile. "He's just a friend who got the wrong idea. Thanks for  working the crowd, by the way."

"I have no idea what you mean." He kept his face perfectly straight.

"I saw you talking to Mr. Donovan. You know he's one of our biggest donors."

He swirled her with a flourish, smiling at her girlish laugh.

"I do recall."

"Hmmmm." She smiled up at him, the no-strings love and maternal pride clear for him to see. "You're such a good boy."

"Not too loud. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Like you need it with Sofie around. That girl has been chasing you since the fifth grade."

"Actually, since first grade, but she hasn't caught me yet, and she won't."

"Try telling her that."

"I have tried. She doesn't listen."

"Now here's a man who's been caught." Kristeene looked past Walsh's  shoulder, affection softening her expression. "Cam, where have you been  all night? I haven't seen you since you first got here."

"Well, you're seeing me now." He danced Kerris over closer to them. "Walsh, lemme cut in for a dance with the birthday girl."

Walsh and Kerris shared a knowing glance. Finally, Walsh nodded, handing  his mother over to Cam and stepping aside to stand in front of Kerris.  His palms moistened, wet with the excitement percolating in his belly.  Tension marbled his shoulders.

"We are in the middle of a dance floor." He slipped the words between  tightly held lips, reaching for her elbow to pull her into his arms.  "Seems crazy to just stand here."

The heat of her body this close made him forget where he was and what he  wanted to say. Her sweet vanilla scent seduced him. The muscles in his  abdomen contracted, drawing the tension of the moment into his core. Her  eyes were trained on the top button of the dress shirt he wore without a  tie. The silence lengthened and tightened, a thread on the point of  snapping. She gnawed the pillowed flesh of her bottom lip. He exhaled a  short breath.

"This is ridiculous." He pressed the small of her back, forcing her to  look up at him. "Let's get this out of the way. I'm sorry I kissed you  at the hospital."

"Shhhh!" She conducted a quick, furtive survey of the dancers around them. "Good gosh, could you be any louder?"                       
       
           



       

"I'm sorry." He swallowed an ill-timed chuckle. "I didn't think I was that loud."

"Can we just forget it happened?"

Her eyes begged him to conspire with her; to pretend his heart didn't swell up in his chest every time he was near her.

"Yeah, we can forget it."

He lied. He'd never forget. She had brushed up against his soul in that  hospital room and exposed newly discovered nerves and emotions.

"And you won't … tell?" Kerris's words were only for him to hear. "You won't say anything to Cam?"

He couldn't help but tease her. She was so adorable.

"I'm sorry." He cupped one ear to hear her better. "I didn't make out that last part. You said I won't tell who?"

"Will you stop it?" She loaded her look with censure. "This is serious."

"It doesn't have to be." The brief humor drained from him like a fast  tire leak. He returned his hand to her back. "I won't mention it."

"Thank you." He felt her release a breath of relief, a false, forced  smile like a stain on her pretty face. "Let's talk about something  else."

"Like what?" he asked, deliberately uncooperative.

"How about your trip to Kenya. How was that?"

"Hard."

She pressed on like he wasn't being an ass.

"I'm sure everyone is grieving for Iyani."

Her sweetness was chipping away at the hardness he wanted to hold on to.

"Yeah. She was something else."

"She was."

"You did so much to make the last few months of her life fun." He stroked the hand he held as they danced.

"No, you did that."

"Okay, we did that."

"We did that."

She rested her hand on his chest for a moment before pulling away. He  trapped her hand under his against his chest. He wasn't ready to lose  her. Wasn't ready to give up the rare moments alone.

"Now what should we talk about?" he asked into the silence that had lost the hardness and tightness of before.