12

Driving samba music blared from the speakers. Tanya immersed herself in a familiar routine of turns and whisks, her hips swiveling, legs and feet moving at breakneck speed to the percussive rhythm.

“You okay?” Andre asked when their heads bent close to each other’s.

“Um-hm.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” But how could she be? Mark’s marriage proposal at breakfast today sent her mind reeling off course. And when the mind goes off, the body tends to follow.

Andre spun toward her and reached his arm out to catch Tanya’s back in a deep drop. She met him several beats behind their musical cue.

He growled under his breath. “Get it together, please.”

“Sorry.”

Every second in a dance performance was like a lifetime. There was no room for hesitation or error, especially in the screaming fast samba they’d created to impress the crowd. Her moment of hesitation was enough to ruin their timing for the complicated lift they’d rehearsed so many times she’d run out of Advil.

Andre still managed to press Tanya over his head as her leg opened in a high développé. She felt herself off kilter. On the landing, her feet fumbled slightly when she touched down, but she regained her balance and seemed solid.

Until she smelled the lilacs. Or thought she did.

Am I losing it? This is a ballroom in the center of London.

“Wake up,” Andre hissed.

She snapped out of her daze and tried to compensate for her momentary lack of focus. But in her attempt to get back in sync, Tanya rushed a pattern of ball changes that led to her next turn. Before she knew it, her foot slipped, and she went down on her butt.

She quickly flung out a dramatic arm, trying to make the fall look intentional. Andre gripped her hand and yanked her to standing, barely masking his fury.

The music hit a crescendo. Tanya struck her final pose with Andre and waited for the applause. Having toured Europe and Asia for the last eight years performing in all sorts of venues and in front of all kinds of crowds, she knew the difference between a fired up audience and one that was merely being polite.

Two guesses which kind they got tonight.

After taking their bows, the pair bounded off hand in hand.

As soon as they hit the darkened corridor leading to the dressing rooms, Andre glared at her in disbelief. He spit out his words through a thick French accent. “I hope you have a good reason for what just happened.”

She heaved a remorseful sigh, grateful the show was only an exhibition and not a competition. “I’m really sorry about that, Andre. I—”

“People came from miles around to see us. You have a growing reputation as an international star. Or at least you did.”

Her fingers nervously twisted the shiny fringe on her dress. She couldn’t blame him for hating her right now. “I feel terrible. Something came up today, and I’m having trouble dealing with it.”

“Makes no difference. You’re a professional. And one of the best. Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to do this program with you.”

Being between partners, she’d needed Andre for this gig and had approached him a few weeks ago with thoughts of working together in the future. So much for that idea. “I apologize.”

“There is no excuse.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Once a dancer stepped onstage, the outside world ceased to exist. That was the ironclad rule. And that had always been the case for Tanya. Why couldn’t she make it happen tonight?

Andre shook his head, eyeing her with a frown. “I’ve never seen you do anything like this. I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.” She apologized once more, then turned and marched to her dressing room, chin lifted. Tanya wasn’t about to endure another word of Andre scolding her as if she were a child. She’d paid her dues year after year and ranked higher in the field than he did, so she wasn’t about to let him shame her for the mistakes she’d made tonight.

They didn’t compare to that one big mistake she regretted to this day.

Was she about to make another one?

Her mouth crumpled and tears formed in her eyes as she shut the dressing room door behind her. She perched on a wire-back vanity stool in front of the makeup mirror.

No, she didn’t get it at all. She should be elated instead of upset.

She dug through her purse and pulled out a small velvet box, opened it, and gazed at the sizable diamond in the ring’s elaborate setting between two sapphires. Why couldn’t she make herself put it on?

Her relationship with Mark was custom made. From the start it had been fast and effortless. Her catching Mark’s eye on the dance floor in a club near Piccadilly. Two Americans with a nasty case of the hots for each other. Purely physical at first, their chronic lovemaking evolved into an amiable affair of two like-minded pros dedicated to their respective careers. It had lasted over a year, a record for her. And him.

Of course, Tanya credited that to the fact that they both traveled so much, rarely spent a full week together, and allowed each other a very long leash.

“Who are you and what is it you want, girl?” she said to herself, staring into the makeup mirror. Most women would kill for her camera-ready face and body. And not many could wear a dress like the one she had on tonight. Short, backless, and shiny, with high slits in the skirt, a plunging neckline to highlight her full breasts, and cutout sections along the torso to reveal her tight waist.

A superficial showpiece with no substance. The words still haunted her.

Words spoken long ago by a man she should’ve forgotten by now.

Her cell rang. It was Mark. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “Hi.”

“How’s my little fiancée?”

“Stop it, Mark. I haven’t said yes.”

“Why not?”

“Come on. We both know the answer to that. Must I go into it again?”

He blew out an impatient sigh. “We’re already living together. What’s the difference? We can still manage an independent lifestyle. The way it is now. Except, we’ve tied the knot.”

Her tone went serious. “I hate knots. You know I don’t do love.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then why are you all of a sudden so keen on getting married?”

There was a silent pause on the other end of the line. She could sense Mark weighing his next words. He had just admitted love wasn’t a factor here, so she couldn’t imagine what he was struggling to say.

“You like money, right?”

“Sure. Who doesn’t?”

“What if I gave you a million dollars as a wedding gift?”

She laughed. “I know you earn a lot, but you haven’t got that much.”

“No, but my grandfather does. And since I just turned thirty-five I was supposed to get a cool five million. But he won’t give me anything unless I’m married.”

Suddenly her intuitive resistance to his marriage proposal that had plagued her all day made sense. “How romantic.” Tanya was not exactly the most romantically inclined woman, but this was a bit much to take. “So that’s the only reason you proposed.”

“No. Of course not.” He lowered his voice to a sexy murmur. “You know how much I like every part of you. And you know you’re going to say yes, Tanya. We’re good together, babe.”

A flush of heat ran through her. Yeah, sex with Mark was great. But the thought of marrying him nearly brought on a panic attack. “I…I can’t answer you now.”

“Why not? Why the stalling? I’m serious about the wedding gift. A million dollars all your own.”

“Don’t you even see how insulting that is? Offering to buy me like a—”

“No. No way. That’s not how it’s meant, babe.”

Tanya remained silent, fuming—and trying to figure out how to give him a flat-out no without hurting him. Would he be hurt? Did he actually have any tender feelings for her?

Mark cleared his throat and said, “Look, we’re both practical adults. And at thirty you ain’t getting any younger.”

“Oooh.”

“Don’t go all hormonal on me, Tanya. That’s just not you. You’re usually so cool-headed. That’s one thing I like about you. Now, we both know there are loads of women out there whose main goal in life is finding a rich hubby who’ll dump a wad of cash on them. Is it such a terrible thing that I’m offering you that?”

Tanya ran a hand over her face. “I just don’t know if I want that kind of marriage.”

“Well, what do you want, for God’s sake? Come on, Tanya. Neither of us is the kind who believes in all that fairy tale hearts and flowers stuff.”

Was that what she wanted? A dramatic fairy tale love to overwhelm her? No, she didn’t believe in that. All she knew was that a desperate part of her wanted to run, to escape right now.

Luckily her call waiting beeped. “Gotta go, Mark. My mother’s calling from the States.” Saved. Not only from the agonizing conversation. But also from the possibility she might go ahead and walk through a door she feared would lock her in forever if she married Mark.

“Hey, Mom. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“This is an SOS call, Tanya.” Her mother sounded more distraught than she’d ever heard her. “I’ve got all kinds of problems, first and foremost, a broken leg. And it’s my right leg, so I can’t even drive my car, but that’s just the beginning.”

“Oh, how horrible, Mom. I’m so sorry. I know I’m an ocean away, but if there’s anything I can do to—”

“I need you to come home.”

“Home?” Her stomach clenched in a knot.

“Yes. ASAP. I’ve never asked you to come home, dear, but I’m asking you now.”

“Of course, Mom. I’ll arrange my schedule and get a flight to New York tomorrow.” Tanya asked how it happened and what was going on, but her mother avoided giving any answers and just kept saying she’d explain when she saw her. So they drifted into their usual chatter about nonessential things. Tanya couldn’t stop herself from asking her mother about him, adding in the names of a few other locals so she could pretend it was merely casual curiosity about people back home.

Would she see him there? Would he even speak to her? Did he hate her?

After she signed off, a tiny voice inside reminded Tanya of that one taste she’d had of love. Real love. The fairy tale, blow-your-mind kind.

It also reminded her of the delicate thread she had never let go of.

Flimsy as it might be, it was still there.

And it kept her heart hopelessly tied to Parker Richardson.

***

Parker Richardson couldn’t shake the odd feeling he woke up with this morning. Like a storm was brewing. Not in the weather. He could usually tell what to expect on that score just by looking at how the trees and animals behaved. No, this was a people thing. He could feel it.

He’d checked up on a couple friends. His mother. His two sisters. Nothing out of the ordinary. His mom needing a refill of her blood pressure meds wasn’t anything new.

Telling himself it was probably that dumb TV show he’d watched two nights ago, he eased his white 4X4 van into a parking space, shut the van’s door painted with Richardson’s Landscape Gardening and Lawn Care, and stepped onto the narrow sidewalk of North Cove’s Main Street.

He loved the poky ambience of this town. Turn of the century-style street lamps dotted Main Street along with a handful of one-story shops, some decked with colorful striped awnings. A post office. A diner. A little white church with a steeple. Straight out of a greeting card.

Rubbing his sore shoulder, stiff from a morning spent laying flagstone for a client’s garden, he headed for the pharmacy. He’d barely crossed the sidewalk when the storm appeared. Or rather a tempest of a woman.

The sight of her nearly took his breath away. What was she doing here? Why had she come back?

Strange thing was she looked kind of ruffled. Like she’d been walking in the wind. But even in baggy trousers and wrinkled blazer, he could see that perfect figure eight shape of her totally female form. Bright April sunlight turned her honey-colored hair golden. And, oh God, that heart-shaped face he used to cup in his hands still sent his heart leaping.

Dipping his head, hoping she hadn’t seen him, Parker made a beeline back to his truck. He figured he’d just lay low until she drove off.

“Parker? Is that really you?”

Too late. He turned. A tight half smile etched his mouth. “Hey, Tanya.”

She walked up to him, a study in predatory grace. “Long time. Must be, what…ten years?”

“Could be,” he said, making an effort to keep his expression indifferent. But he knew how many years, months, even days had passed since that night when she’d laughed at the idea of marrying someone like him.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, her soft voice stirring things inside him the same way it always had.

“Same old. And you?” Was she married now? Kids? Her mother told him she’d become a ballroom dance pro and did shows throughout Europe. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask what he really wanted to know. He checked her hands. No rings.

“Right now I’m pretty fried,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Just got in from London and fought my way through traffic from JFK airport in that stupid rental car.” She gestured to a white sedan. He glanced at it, relieved to see there was no man waiting in the passenger seat. “I’m here to play nursemaid and chauffeur to my mom. Did you hear that she had a car accident?”

Parker nodded. He’d never been a man of many words, but with Tanya there in front of him his shields were at max. He needed to end this conversation and get away. But a part of him just wanted to stand next to her a while longer.

She looked away and said, “What happened to the grocery store that used to be there?”

“Gone.”

“Well, between my mom’s broken leg, her revoked drivers license, and her obsessive dieting, I doubt the food supply at the house will be up to much. ”

He couldn’t stop the spontaneous grin.

Smiling back at him, Tanya lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I know. I still eat like a horse.”

She’d always been ravenous. For everything.

Their eyes locked on each other’s. A tense silence hung in the air.

“It’s strange to be back here,” she murmured. Was he imagining it, or was her tone seductive, her gaze an invitation? Or was that just Tanya being Tanya? The honey-haired lioness who’d pulled him into her clutches and then tore his heart to shreds.

He’d convinced himself what had happened between them wouldn’t matter anymore. Convinced himself he was over her. Finished. Done. But seeing her standing there now, hearing that soft, intoxicating voice, it all came rushing back.

Every kiss, every touch, every word.

Including the bitter ones that had ended it all.

Forcing himself to make a move, he stepped back. Last thing he needed was another round with Scarlett O’Hara incarnate. “Gotta go.”

He turned and headed off—filled with that same overwhelming sense of loss he’d felt the last time he walked away from her.

***End of Preview***