“So far so good.”
“In that case, would you care to dance?”
“Are you allowed to in uniform?” she asked.
He smiled and drew her hand through the crook of his arm. “Only with a beautiful woman.”
She turned and let him lead her to the dance floor. The string quartet she’d hired was set up on a raised platform in the corner. Fortunately the sick person was well enough and had made it to the hotel. They’d just started into beautiful, flowing waltz. Fiona hesitated as they neared the open polished wood of the dance floor. No one else was dancing. “Are you sure?” She turned to face him. “Have you ever waltzed?”
He smiled down at her with that sexy, confident smile. “You know I can hold my own on the dance floor, darlin’.”
Fiona chewed on her bottom lip. “Clubbing is different than dancing at a black tie affair.”
He placed his hand on her naked back and guided her onto the floor, holding her other hand in his. “I think I can manage.”
Without another word, he swept her up into the rhythm of the waltz, his steps perfect, his hand firm on her body, guiding her with each turn. She could have been a princess at a royal ball and Wyatt the prince, smiling down at her. Fiona had to stop herself from saying wow again. The man had so much charm, confidence and sex appeal, he melted her knees with just a look.
And in uniform…just wow.
As the song came to an end, Fiona sighed, disappointed. In Wyatt’s arms, she could forget everything else. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”
“My mother taught me how to waltz when I was a little boy. And like I said, I got a lot of practice at the country western honky-tonk some of us hung out at outside Fort Bragg during training.”
“Well, congratulate your mother for me. You did her proud.”
His smile faded. “She was a remarkable woman. She passed away seven years ago while I was on a mission.”
Fiona’s happiness faded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I still miss her.”
“What about your father?”
“That old coot is still alive and kickin’. He’s ornery enough to outlive me by a long shot.”
“I bet there’s a lot of him in you.”
Wyatt nodded. “Too much at times. If we spend time together, we end up buttin’ heads.” A smile softened his words. “But he’s a good man beneath the gruffness.”
Fiona could imagine an older version of Wyatt and wondered what it would be like to grow old with him? Would he be content to sit on a porch and rock through his retirement? Or would he still be charging headfirst into one adventure after another? Fiona suspected the latter and realized she’d prefer the same. Too bad this impressive soldier was so dead set on keeping their relationship casual and ending it upon the conclusion of this event.
With a sigh, Fiona waved toward the table laden with every kind of fancy finger food imaginable. “Hungry?”
His hand tightened around her waist. “Not for food.”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to slip out of here and out of my dress and heels and make love to you, but my presence is required.”
Wyatt glanced around the room and back to her. “Is there a coat closet or an office we could duck into? I’m betting you aren’t wearing underwear beneath that dress.”
She let her lips curl up slightly on the corner. “You’ll just have to keep guessing until all the guests leave the party, now, won’t you?”
Wyatt growled low in his chest. “Want me to clear them out of here?”
Her eyes widened. “No, I do not. Besides, you wouldn’t want to wrinkle that pretty uniform.”
“Pretty?” He stood even taller, if that was at all possible. “I’ll have you know, Special Forces soldiers aren’t pretty. It’s not regulation.”
Fiona laughed. “Okay, then how about sexy uniform?”
He relaxed beside her and smiled. “That’s better. Can’t lose my macho appeal with a single word.”
Fiona snorted softly. “As if you could lose an ounce of macho. You’re practically bursting at the seams with swagger.”
“How long is this going on?”
Fiona smiled. “It’ll all be over by ten.”
“Good. I don’t know if I can stand wearing this tie that long.”
“If I can stand in these heels, you can wear a tie.”
“I’d rather you and I were naked.”
“I thought you weren’t anxious to continue our relationship?”
“You and I both know that after this event is over, I’m out of here. But while I’m here…” He tugged at his tie. “Damn, woman, you’re making this hard on me.”
Her smile tilted upward. “That’s the idea.”
One of the attendees called out to Fiona.
She sighed. “That’s my cue.”
“Go. I want to have a look around the building and parking garage. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She reluctantly left Wyatt to attend to the guests, making introductions to the visiting delegates and government officials. After a while her lips hurt from smiling, and if she had to shake one more gorilla hand bent on crushing her bones… Fiona counted the minutes until she could strip out of her dress and get naked with Wyatt again. By thirty minutes until ten o’clock, the party was in full swing and still she’d seen no sign of Wyatt.
Chapter Nine
Wyatt checked with every guard at every entrance to the hotel, saving the front entrance and the parking lot in the basement for last. As he stepped out the lobby door, he spied Joe and Bacchus surrounded by two very elegant beauties dressed to the hilt in low-slung gowns displaying more flesh than the material they were made of covered.
Joe, dressed in tailored slacks, a black button-down shirt and black necktie, with his short hair and blue eyes, probably appealed to the opposite sex. Add the dog he was obviously attached to and he was a veritable chick magnet.
When Wyatt appeared at Joe’s side, the ladies’ attention shifted to him and the shiny medals on his chest. For a moment he wished he still wore the jeans and T-shirt he’d had on most of the day. These women did not interest him in the least. Normally, he’d flirt and maybe even take a number and one of or both of them to bed.
But his mind was back in the ballroom with a feisty redhead and he couldn’t wait to get back and maybe catch another dance with her. She moved like an angel on wings. Only she was as sexy as the devil.
“Are you here for the convention?” The tall blonde asked while her shorter, brunette friend smiled shyly at him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I went to the trouble to come to this little party.” The blonde walked her fingers up his chest to the shiny medals pinned to his jacket. “And what are all these pretty coins for?”
He grabbed her hand before she could put fingerprints all over the shiny medal. “Ma’am, I’m on duty.” Wyatt set her aside, gently but firmly.
“My apologies. My name is Brigitte.” The woman held out her hand as if to shake his.
Reluctantly he took hers and she deposited a keycard in his palm, leaned close and whispered, “Room two-eleven.”
“Ma’am, you don’t want to lose this.” He handed it back to her and stepped back.
When the blonde frowned and opened her mouth to say something, Joe loosened his grip on Bacchus’s lead and the dog pressed his nose to the woman’s crotch.
She squealed and jumped back. “Get that filthy creature away from me!”
“Sorry, ma’am. Bacchus, like some people, forgets his manners on occasion.”
Her cheeks reddened and she sputtered. “Well, I never.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Joe smiled. “I’m sure you never.”