His Reluctant Lover (4 page)

Jennifer looked at the woman she’d known since grade school, pretty sure that Georgette was deluding herself.  And Jennifer knew why too.  “A favor, huh?  I never got any favors that looked that delicious.  I think you might have finally met the man who can change your mind about marriage.”  And her eyes were drawn right back to Dylan who was taking two glasses of champagne off of a tray, handing one to Georgette while maintaining a conversation with Mindy and Tom.  The three of them were in their element, discussing various tension materials and cantilevers and whatever it was they were saying.  It was almost like a second language, Georgette realized. He certainly was in his element and she had to give him credit.  He might simply be the brains behind the financing and location of the projects, but he knew his architecture.  Mindy and Tom were hanging onto everything Dylan said, acting like he was the second coming. 

Jennifer watched Georgette stare at the man, feeling her excitement grow.  Never had Georgette been so interested in a man. 

Philip Charding stepped into the group, looking around at the various members.  He also noticed his granddaughter’s interest in Dylan Alfieri.  He was surprised that she wasn’t even trying to hide it tonight.

“How long has she been like this?” Philip asked Jennifer in a low voice so his granddaughter wouldn’t hear.

Jennifer leaned in, hiding her reply behind her champagne glass.  “Are you asking how long she’s been trying to pretend like she’s not hanging onto his every word?”

Philip chuckled softly but nodded as he sipped his own drink.  “Yep.”

“About five minutes.  Longer than she and Charles have ever spoken to each other.”

Philip grunted.  “I left them alone last night at dinner,” he said conspiratorially.

Jennifer’s eyes widened.  She looked towards her friend, then at the newest member of the group.  “You sly, old fox,” she whispered with both amusement and admiration.  “So this whole thing…”

Philip nodded.  “You gonna help me, m’dear?”

Jennifer thought about it for perhaps a fraction of a second.  “I’m in,” she replied and clinked glasses with Georgette’s grandfather.  “She doesn’t like him very much.”  She thought about telling Philip how he had influenced his granddaughter’s opinion about marriage and relationships, but since Philip was working to resolve the issue, she thought it was better left alone.  If Georgette wanted to discuss her grandfather’s love life, she would do it herself.  Jennifer was just the friend, marriage was a family matter. 

Philip shrugged his shoulder.  “She doesn’t love Charles.  He’s too pleasant.  Georgette needs more spice.  Dylan will give her what she needs.”

Jennifer observed the two people.  Dylan looked back at Georgette every few moments, ensuring that she was still there.  Georgette pretended to be uninterested but she didn’t move out of his sphere.  She stayed close, her body language screaming that she was more than just a little interested in the man.  “He certainly has her attention.”

The two conspirators moved apart, not wanting to be caught in the act, but they stayed close, observing and thinking up additional ways to get the two individuals closer together. 

Later that night, Jennifer asked Georgette if the new fabrics had been delivered.  But when Georgette didn’t respond, she looked over at her friend.  Then followed the line of sight to where Georgette was looking, almost laughing when Dylan was spotted a few feet away.  “Hello?” Jennifer called out to her best friend, waving a hand in front of Georgette’s eyes.

Georgette started slightly, blinking her eyes rapidly and looking at her friend.  “What?” she asked when Jennifer just looked back at Georgette with a smirk on her face.  Even Tom had a knowing expression. 

“Just a favor?” Jennifer asked again.

“Just a favor.  Charles will be back soon and I’ll be right back by his side.”

Jennifer looked at her friend with disbelief, then towards Dylan, then back at Georgette who was also looking at the man in question.  “Right,” she said and winked at Tom who smiled, agreeing with his wife’s assessment.  “So what else is going on?” she asked, changing the subject but helping to keep Georgette and Dylan as close together as possible.

For the next three hours, Georgette did exactly what she’d promised her grandfather that she would do.  She moved around the ballroom, introducing Dylan to the various people, trying to tell him who they were and why they might be important to him.  At the end of those three hours, she was exhausted from talking but also from being by his side for the whole night.  Dylan’s presence wasn’t relaxing like Charles’ could be.  He was high energy and everyone wanted to meet him.  As soon as someone heard he was in the room, people seemed to swarm towards them.  She had to keep him moving to the various groups, otherwise, they’d be trapped in a corner somewhere. 

She was just about to bring him over to another group when he stopped her with a hand to her arm.  “Enough,” he stated firmly.  “We’re dancing.”  With that declaration, he led her out onto the dance floor and wrapped her closely in his arms, staring down at her flushed cheeks. 

“This wasn’t part of the bargain,” she said, gritting her teeth to fight the urge to touch him.  She had the strangest sensation, or need, to wrap her arms around him, to lay her hands on his impossibly broad shoulders or discover the muscles just underneath the material of his tuxedo. 

Was she crazy?  Why was she thinking this way?  Dylan Alfieri was one of those guys that could get under her skin and really hurt her. 

Pulling back, she tried to remember that Charles was the man for her.  He was the safe one.  He was the kind of man she could marry.  Charles was the guy who, if he left her, she wouldn’t be hurt.  If Charles had an affair, she would simply dismiss him from her life.  No problems, just a neutral divorce where two people calmly and rationally decide that it is time to go their separate ways. 

Dylan was not that guy.  Not by a long shot. 

Clearing her throat, she clenched her fingers into a fist, then forced herself to relax and try to pretend like her skin wasn’t burning wherever his hand touched her, that she couldn’t hear his heartbeat.  Or hers. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice vibrating through her body right out to the tips of her fingers. 

“I’m trying to figure out who you might need to speak with next,” she told him, looking at the middle of his chest. 

He laughed softly and pulled her closer.  “Liar.”  He spun her around, his lower body coming into contact with hers and she gasped.  He felt her body tremble even more, but pulled her closer to both reassure her and show her that he was feeling it as well. 

“Come home with me,” he said into her ear. 

Georgette closed her eyes, fighting the temptation to do exactly what he was asking of her.  Oh goodness, to release her control and revel in his touch, to find out what it would be like to be kissed by this man.  Charles kissed her but it was a gentle, gentlemanly kiss.  Georgette suspected that Dylan’s kiss would be anything but gentle and the complete opposite of gentlemanly.  Oh, he could pretend a veneer of gentility but it wasn’t even skin deep.  The man was….wrong.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “No.  That’s not an option,” she said, gaining strength in her words and the tone of her voice.  Fake it till you make it, right? 

“It is if you’ll just let yourself enjoy what is obviously happening between us.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly with those words.  Was he really feeling the same thing? 

No!  Dylan was not the man for her.  She had Charles.  Charles was right for her.  He fit into her life much better than Dylan ever would.  She shook her head and looked to the right, refusing to look up at him.  “Thank you very much for the offer, but I’m fine.  I don’t know what you are talking about.”

He chuckled and swung her again, pulling her closer, feeling as well as hearing her gasp.  “That isn’t…”

“Georgie?” a voice to their left exclaimed. 

Georgette stiffened and Dylan, feeling the tension in her body, looked as well, trying to determine if the voice was a threat.  He suddenly felt extremely protective of this woman.  And possessive. 

“Is that really you?” the voice called out. 

Georgette and Dylan stopped dancing and looked at the lanky man in what would be a nice tuxedo if he would only stand up straight.  He was almost as tall as Dylan but his shoulders and back slumped forward, causing him to look more than a little goofy. 

“Doug?” she replied, her voice wary.  “How are you?” she asked.

“Is that all I get?” the newcomer asked, laughing and showing all of his teeth, many of which were still crooked even after four years of braces during high school.  “Come here!” and a moment later, Georgette was enveloped in the man’s extremely long arms. 

Georgette accepted the hug, but she looked over at Dylan, silently asking him for help.  Which he ignored with an amused raising of his eyebrows.  “Would you care to introduce me to your friend, Georgie?” he asked, using the nickname she obviously hated. 

“Don’t…” she started to say but Doug wasn’t about to relinquish her just yet. 

“Dance with me!” he commanded and took her hand.  “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Dylan.  “We’re old friends from high school and this will just be a quick twirl around the dance floor.”

Dylan looked at Georgette who was shaking her head, trying to politely escape from Doug’s hold.  “Doug, why don’t we just get a drink and catch up?  I’d love to hear about your…”

“I’ve been practicing,” he explained as if answering her unspoken fears. 

Georgette turned one more pleading look towards Dylan but he simply picked up a glass of champagne, raising it into the air as a salute.  “Enjoy yourself,” he said, more to Doug than to Georgette who obviously wasn’t going to enjoy this at all.

He almost laughed as Doug led her out onto the dance floor, stepping on her toes even before he pulled her into his arms. Dylan did chuckle when he caught Georgette’s glare a moment before Doug pulled her into his arms.  And then they were twirling around the dance floor as if this were a waltz instead of a more sedate ballad in four/four time. 

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, he watched as Doug swirled them around the dance floor, the other dancers moving quickly out of their way because Georgette’s partner didn’t appear to be trying to avoid them.  Dylan suspected that Doug considered dancing to be a competition, the faster one moves, the better. 

After one dance, Georgette was ready to get off of the dance floor.  Her face was flaming with embarrassment because Doug had bumped into several couples and she could barely keep up with his stepping.  Not to mention, he was off the count and it was hard to figure out exactly what he was dancing to.  It certainly wasn’t the music the ensemble was playing! 

“That was fun,” Doug said, taking in deep gulps of air.  “Let’s do it again, shall we?”

Georgette held up her hand and shook her head.  “Nope!  I think I’ve had enough dancing for one night,” she said.  Looking around, her eyes automatically searched for Dylan but she didn’t see him immediately.  Where could he be? 

Shaking her head, she turned back to Doug.  “Let’s get a drink and you can tell me what you’ve been doing over the past few years.”  They moved to the side of the dance floor that had emptied out during their traipsing, colliding endeavors.  When everyone realized that the two of them were not going to dance the next song, there was an almost audible sigh of relief. 

She led him over to one of the tables and smiled her thanks as a waiter arrived with a tray of champagne.  She took two, handing one to Doug.  “What have you been up to?” she asked.  While Doug told her about learning to fly and ride a horse, her eyes kept straying.  She told herself she was only looking around, seeing who was here.  But deep down, she knew she was looking for Dylan.  And what was worse, she was irritated that she couldn’t find him. 

Probably a good thing, she said, sipping the sparkling wine that she really didn’t want to drink.  She was hungry and tired and her toes were crammed into these horrible shoes, not to mention crushed from Doug’s dancing attempts.  All she wanted to do was go home and curl up on her couch with a big bowl of ice cream.  Did she have any of that chocolate syrup left?  Hmm…that would be really good on the ice cream, she thought.  And what about whipped cream?  Oh, she had that whipping cream she’d used for that last dinner party!  She could make some whipped cream. 

At that precise moment, her eyes caught Dylan’s.  And that was the end of her ice cream fantasy.  It quickly morphed into a “Dylan” treat, the chocolate syrup and whipped cream included.  The idea of using chocolate syrup on him, of tasting him…

“What are you thinking about?” Doug asked just as Dylan walked up to them. 

Georgette jerked her mind out of that particular fantasy quickly, bowing her head in the hopes that Dylan wouldn’t see her cheeks turn pink. 

“You’re blushing!” Doug exclaimed.  Leaning forward, he said, “You want me, right?”

Georgette reared back, her eyes moving from Doug’s eager expression to Dylan’s amused one.  “What?”  She looked at him one more time.  “No!”

Doug stood up and smirked.  “We always had a thing for each other,” he told Dylan.  “She wants me for my brain.”

Georgette laughed and patted his shoulder.  “Doug, you’re hilarious,” she said, assuming he was just teasing her.  And then the heat in Dylan’s eyes caught her attention and her hand froze.  Dylan was a completely different animal than Doug.  The two might both be male, both have testosterone flowing through their bodies, but that was the end of the comparison.  Doug was kind and geeky, sweet and easy to handle.