So Adam had done it again. Twice now he had found love; binding himself to a woman ‘till death do us part’. He made it look so easy, stood up there in front of the congregation, eagerly saying ‘I do’. Peter Florin couldn’t think of anything worse. To have your own happiness bound so tightly to another’s that you had no choice but to feel their pain? No. That was not an option he was willing to pursue.
Still, a wedding was a wedding: plenty of women in fancy frocks, drinking merrily and expecting to be flirted with. You couldn’t knock it, really. His eyes scanned the guests at the church, rapidly surveying the offering. Had her. Had her. Ugh! Won’t be having her. His gaze came to rest on Kate’s friends a few rows ahead of him: Flis, Jenny and Soph.
From what he had heard, Soph was off the market now. Flis still held a torch for him, he had known that for a while, and although not exactly his type, he would keep her in mind just in case. But then there was Jen. Jenny Wren. He hadn’t had much to do with her yet, and looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine why. Her skin, where it rose up the back of her neck, was like cappuccino silk. He licked his lips. As he watched, she turned her head to whisper to the friend next to her and Pete could see the light dancing in her eyes. Yes, he was going to enjoy this.
Before he could deliberate much further, the organ started up, breaking his reverie, and the congregation began to stand. It was over.
Throughout the dullness of the small talk and speeches that followed, Pete kept Jen firmly on his radar. He smiled across at her when she caught his eye and relished the faint blush of crimson that appeared in his wake. Everything about this was wanton anticipation and, beat after beat, it was building.
Outside, it was a warm summer’s evening. Kate and Adam’s reception was being held in a marquee on the back lawn of an expensive hotel, and in the aftermath of the meal a disco was slowly warming up on one side of the tent, leaving the tables being cleared on the other. In the relaxed atmosphere of the early evening, when groups of guests were milling about, catching up with old friends and relatives and congratulating the bride and groom, Peter Florin could be found leaning up against the bar.
He stood there watching her and nursing a fresh pint of beer. She was dancing now – an observer’s sport, in his books. She had looked over at him once or twice and he had been busy studying her reaction. She liked him. This was good. Just being there that day, with Adam, had been hard for him; he would welcome a challenge, if only for distraction.
To amuse himself, Pete tried to determine her response as a lover just by looking at her. The big eyes, full lips and seductive moves spoke of a decadent sensuality and the sparkly earring in the top of her right ear screamed out ‘rebel’. Yes, she was just what the doctor ordered. His smile kicked in. It was time to make a move.
Greeting Adam briefly as he walked up to the edge of the dance floor, Pete kept his eyes on the prize. Jenny’s body was supple, and as it moved and swayed in time with the music, it was almost hypnotic. Her mysterious eyes caught him approaching and for a second he became aware of her, trapped, unmoving in his spotlight. His heart rate kicked up a gear in response, but his pace didn’t slow. Closer still, he continued his appraisal. The short choppy hairstyle gave her a pixie-like quality that echoed of mischief and fun. Yes, he had to have her. His skin was burning with desire, so much so that, for a moment, he wondered just who was dangling on the hook.
Jenny spoke to a friend whilst her eyes were fathoming him and then left the dance floor. She walked right past him and as she did, she smiled. Wham! Pete turned to watch her walking away from him and quickly recovered. Was he being seduced? It was a novelty for a woman to make him work for it, but it made a refreshing change and from the look of her, it would definitely be worth the play. He looked around him. He had better crank up his pitch.
From the far side of the dance floor, Pete waited for his cue. He wasn’t a fan of dancing, but on some occasions, he realised, needs must.
A minute later, the DJ tapped the mic. “Would a Jenny make her way to the centre of the dance floor, please, as her Prince Charming is currently waiting there to dance with her.”
Pete took a deep breath and loosened his tie a little as the message stirred through the crowd. All eyes were searching for someone called Jenny. It wasn’t a common name, so Pete was banking on her being the only one. Fingers started to point and nudge and then he spotted her, being escorted by some friends, warily winding her way back over in his direction. He moved into the centre and waited.
The three of them were egging her on and then, as she approached the dance floor, the crowd slowly parted, until there was nothing left between Jenny and him but air. Pete revelled in the surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He held out a hand and the crowd held its breath.
With her cheeks glowing, Jenny responded, moving slowly closer towards him. The proud set of her chin and determination to hold his gaze impressing him even more.
The onlookers sent up a cheer and after a moment or two, began to close ranks around them and then she was there, with him, her hand holding onto his.
She stood before him. “You could have just asked me,” she said.
“Now where would be the fun in that?” he replied. The song changed and a slow dance was calling them. “Shall we?” he asked.
Moving her into his arms, Pete felt the thrill of a new chase. He winked his thanks at the DJ over her shoulder and then looked down at her, smiling. He knew if he had gone about things in his usual style she would have likely sent him packing, but this way he had her, and he wasn’t about to apologise for that.
Slowly, he felt her body start to relax beneath his fingers. He could smell the warm spicy scent of her skin and her hair and took pleasure in the touch of her hand, still clasped gently in his. “Would you have said yes if I’d have asked you?” he asked her softly in her ear.
“Probably not,” she replied.
“Thought as much.” He left it hanging in his tone that he was feeling smug about this.
“You’re not as irresistible as you think you are, you know,” she told him, but her body was slowly yielding to his. He rejoiced at the sensation of her breasts pressing lightly against him, and the fact that her cheek was slowly falling towards his chest, but it was her eyes, now big and dark, that were calling her a liar.
Jenny jumped a little and pulled away from him. She picked her phone out of her pocket and looked at it. She paled. Looking around, Pete followed her gaze and spotted a man standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring shards of glass at them.
“I’ve got to go,” she said and Pete stood back and let her walk away.
At the edge of the dance floor he saw the man dragging Jenny outside by her wrist. The man’s frame was stiff, his shoulders hunched and his jaw was set firm. Pete was unsettled.
Pete walked over to a marquee window, watching them carefully. The man led Jenny out to a big oak tree in the grounds. The light outside was fading