Once Upon A Diamond (Prince Uncharming Book 1) (6 page)

Jessica stared at her without blinking for a few seconds. “Tell me about the kiss again because I think it's broken your brain.”

“Probably,” she agreed then a bubble of laughter rolled from her gut.

They moved out onto the floor, spread out for the routine. And she could feel Greg's gaze only on her. Had she danced for anyone she dated in the past five years? No. Ballet was still her first true love. She had fun with it now, but for a long time she could only be intense about ballet.

It wasn't for wussies or complainers. It wasn't always kind to women of color. To women, period, even though they made up more than seventy-five percent of working dancers. Dance was a part of herself she didn't normally share with someone who couldn't understand. So maybe that's why she felt safe with him. He hadn't looked in coffee shops for her. He hadn't gone to auction houses where she could buy jewelry or to estate sales. He'd found her in a ballet studio.

Her stomach fluttered and she had to suck in a big breath to get back into ready-mode. But then she found his gaze. He watched her but she had no doubt he could
see
her. After class, she'd find out exactly what that image of her was.

*****

A little less than an hour later Yvonne ran up to Greg and pulled him out of the chair without fanfare. “If you're smart, you won't ask questions. You'll keep moving.”

Greg had watched her chatting with another woman during the whole class. The moment the woman had been pulled into a different conversation, Yvonne had made her escape. The grip she had on his arm told him all he needed to know.

Amused, he smiled down at her. “You don't want me to be interrogated by your friend?”

Yvonne paused only for a moment before pushing the door open. “What do you mean?”

If nothing else, he'd learned about women and their friends from Abigail. She had two best friends who had no shame about interfering or being nosy. “I'm going to guess the woman you were standing next to during the entire class grilled you about me. The way she cut a few glances my way, she had plans to ask my intentions, my bank account balance and my views on controversial political subjects to gauge the kind of man I am.”

“Are you saying you want me to unleash her on you?”

Being hazed by a woman's friend was relationship...shit. “I have Thai food in mind.”

She didn't miss a step and guided him toward a Prius parked at a meter. “Move faster.”

“It's down the street. No need for cars.”

“Lead the way. I'm starving and need carbs.”

As predicated she was sweaty. A few strands of hair had escaped her bun. There was an extra pep in her step and her smile was like sunshine.

He tilted his head. “You really miss dancing, don't you?”

“I miss dancing. I don't miss the rest. I get to eat. Up until I decided to retire, I was underweight, especially for my height. Depending on the costume, I'd have to bind my breasts.”

Of course his gaze went down to her chest. That was a shame. “Then why did you do it for so long?”

“It was a trade-off to do something I loved.”

Like she'd said to him, “Sounds fun.”

She squeezed his arm. “Why is it we only remember the bitter part sometimes?”

“Lasting effect.” He turned the corner and stopped at the Thai restaurant's entrance.

She tsked at him, not moving toward the door. “You're supposed to tell me an unrelated story.”

She'd lifted her chin and the way the light from the Thai place fell over her face, her lips were like a siren's call. He had to ball his hands to keep from grabbing her face and kissing her hard. “I'm not good at them. Plus, my life is pretty boring.”

“Boring?” she pushed.

“My parents are happily married. I only remember one ugly fight they had in front of me. Can't even remember what it was about. I grew up really close with my cousin. I wasn't always a gentleman. He usually got more flak for it. For me, I was just a boy being a boy.” He went silent, not wanting to talk about the one thing that could actually make him interesting.

She bit her lip, trying to hide her smile. “Then this might be our one and only date if that's all the trauma you have. I mean, are you going to talk to me about my financial options? Ways to better leverage my business contacts?” She cringed.

He snorted. “I'll come up with something. Maybe rush week at college. I made an ass of myself.” He couldn't take it anymore. He'd tried to ignore the way the shirt clung to her wet skin, but he couldn't. Glancing down, he groaned softly. “Yvonne, I don't think you know just how appealing you are.”

She dropped her gaze and shifted. “When I see the way you look at me, I know.”

The moment she spoke the words his veins felt like they were on fire. His heart was beating too hard and too fast for any other reaction. His voice came out gruff and thick, “No one has told you before?”

“Yes and no. No one has ever told me without speaking a single word.”

He placed his finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “That's a shame.”

“Maybe, but I think that just made me who I am.”

He tried to think of the right words that wouldn't make him sound like an ass. “For an hour, I watched the way you danced. It was no different than watching you move across a room. Every step is sure, graceful. It's not conscious. And after seeing you practice, I know how much work you must have put in, but you make it appear easy.”

She blinked rapidly and turned to face the door. “Greg, I'm starving. Let's eat.”

He didn't say anything more, just placed his hands on her shoulders as she led them into the restaurant. For the next two hours they traded stories. They ate. They had the waitress interrupting them every twenty minutes because it seemed like they had made a home in their seats.

It was the best two hours he'd had with a woman in a long time. Maybe even ever. Greg didn't know how to process that, so he didn't. Refused to. That's what had gotten him in trouble the last time.

CHATER FIVE

“You've known him for two weeks and he's coming to your house?” Jessica asked, the disbelief clear in every word.

Yvonne adjusted the phone so she could fluff her couch pillows. A ridiculous thing to do. What man looked at couch pillows and thought, “those really look flat. She should fluff them.” None. Not a one. But it was the principle of the matter.

“I made some steaks, mash potatoes, gravy, greens and cornbread. The worst single-person food to make ever. I’ll have leftovers for months.”

Her friend was silent. Yvonne could only frown at the third pillow. Okay, she may have hugged that pillow when watching scary movies. Maybe slept on it one too many times when she was too lazy to go to bed. And why did she have to pick a floral pattern? Yes, the forest green shade was dark enough to hide the the golden flowers, but still...

Why did she pick this couch? Hell, her apartment that was on the second floor. Spring was perfect but come summer in California she'd spend more time at her shop so she could breathe when the day's heat became unmanageable. Dense lace curtains or not, second floor apartments were the worst in the summer.

Jessica said, “I don't even think you're listening to me.”

Yvonne was glad her friend couldn't see the wince. “Of course, I am. You think I'm nesting with a man who doesn't want to nest with me. I've known him such a short time. He's too wily. He's on the rebound. He's...”

Thoughtful, kind and funny
. Every night they'd gone on a date he'd made her knees give out.

Her friend finished the thought. “He's going to break your heart and you know it. You're running headlong into this without one damn care. But after he breaks your heart, I'll be the one holding your hair back the night we get drunk.”

“Even with the best conditioners in the world, my hair isn't that moveable. No need to hold my hair.”

Sounding exasperated, Jessica said, “You know what I mean.”

Of course she did, but the thought that Greg was on his way to her house had her stomach all fluttery. They'd eaten at almost every restaurant near her shop and pretty much didn't get a warm welcome anymore. They'd stay well after their food was done just to talk and laugh.

Yvonne tried to defend herself. “We're not...that's not what we're doing.”

“Your voice is so high all the dogs in my neighborhood are barking.”

Okay. Maybe she was stretching that half-truth a bit. “I'm sharing a meal with him. No big deal.”

“You're just going to ignore me. Why do I bother?”

“Because you don't want to be right, but if you are, you get to preen a little.”

Jessica was silent on the other end of the phone for a long moment. “Okay. Maybe. Does that make me a horrible person?”

“Only a little. I love you anyway.”

Her friend sighed and then laughed. “I love you. I know why you're loveable, but I don't think he can see it. You'll just be
not his ex
.”

She'd had the same thoughts, late at night, after one of their extended dates. Maybe she was only a breath of fresh air. His ex said that and she didn't. His ex would think that and she didn't. His ex would disapprove. She didn't.

Yvonne hadn't been the one to rip out his heart and eat it. That and that alone was why he enjoyed spending time with her. Yvonne wasn't searching for The One, but that didn't mean she was sleeping on the job.

She pressed a fist to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Moment of honesty,” she said.

“Shoot,” Jessica replied.

“I may be wasting time with him. While I'm feeding him, I could miss out on meeting the guy I'm supposed to be with the rest of my life at the grocery store or somewhere else. Since I'm too busy making eyes with Greg, I'll miss him. But I'm having so much damn fun. No one should fault me for living. No one should reprimand me for not being perfect or logical.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said and sounded abashed. “Thanks for that. I now feel like a horrible friend for harping.”

“Good.” Yvonne smiled. “It'll keep you from having a big head.”

Jessica snort-laughed. “Have fun. Kiss his socks off and call me if you need anything at all.”

A knock came at her door. There went the butterflies in her gut. “Will do. Mwah.”

Yvonne opened the door and there Greg stood with a bottle of wine and sexy scruff along his jaw. “Do you cook at all?” she asked, instead of acting like a simpering idiot at the sight of him.

“Grilled cheese sandwiches. I can make one that would make you praise deities. My cousin taught me.”

Sandwiches?
“You poor, deluded man. Come in.”

And that became the routine for the next month. She'd invite him over for dinner, she'd press him for anything new he may know how cook and they'd have a night. Each time he didn't press for more or ask for something other than food and good company. The tension grew. What was this between them? What would he feel like naked against her bare skin?

But how could she pay attention to the undercurrent of uncertainty when they had so much fun?

“Okay. Okay,” she said and held up her fork of spaghetti. They had settled into her kitchen to sit at the table. Their chairs were next to each other. “I think this is the longest noodle I have. I usually break them in half before I cook them. Easier to fit into the pot.”

“I don't know how we're going to do this.” He eyed her fork. “It's not long enough.”

“Maybe. We can do it.”

He still looked skeptical. “It was a cartoon. Why are we doing this?”

“We're doing this because we can. This theory has to be tested. Who else is here to try this?”

“Sane people aren't here. Apparently.” He sighed, narrowing his eyes on her. “And don't tell a single person I did this with you.”

She snorted. This was blackmail material but he was willing to be silly with her. That said a lot. “Move closer.”

Greg shook his head and perched on the end of his chair. Their knees touched, and then he scooted in more, shifting his his left leg until he was settled perfectly between her legs. Her kitchen was warm from cooking garlic bread and spaghetti, but the way her skin felt hot and tight had everything to do with him and his proximity.

He closed his mouth around the fork and sucked in the end of the noodle. He motioned his hand for her to go. The spaghetti noodle was short. Nothing at all like
The Lady and the Tramp
, but who cared? No one could see the way he was watching her with that dark gaze but there was a laugh there too.

With precision she fed her end into her mouth and sucked. His end came out of his mouth. Before she could stop the momentum, she'd eaten the entire noodle.

“Dammit,” she said after swallowing.

His dark eyes grew brighter. Sometimes she couldn't even see the sadness anymore. “Cartoon,” he said in a flat voice. “Not based on reality. I don't know why you had high expectations.”

He shifted and that leg moved closer to the heat of her core. She would not concentrate on that. If she did, she'd grab him and do...things that would make her fluster thinking about them later.