Marcus that. And the more time she spent in Marcus Ballantyne’s company, the less she wanted him to know about that.
‘There is absolutely nothing like that between Danny and myself,’ she said with complete certainty, knowing there never would be. She still thought he was the biggest bore she had ever met in her life, and if she ever had to spend another evening in his company she would fall asleep! ‘Danny was alone this evening, and I happened to be in town, so dinner seemed like a good idea,’ she dismissed easily.
‘Good,’ Marcus accepted with satisfaction. ‘In that case, think about dinner tomorrow. And in the meantime,’ he added, before she could make a reply, ‘would you like to dance?’
Joy very much doubted that this man very often had to leave a woman to think about going out with him! It was…Dance? He wanted her to get up and dance with him? To this? The loud rock music had stopped several minutes ago to be replaced by slow love-songs—in fact Danny and the young blonde had been entwined in each other’s arms for some time. And now Marcus had suggested that the two of them—!
He gave a throaty chuckle at her side. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you before, Joy,’ he told her with a smile, as she turned to look at him enquiringly. ‘Believe me, you’re very refreshing!’ he assured her at her doubtful look.
Gauche and unsophisticated was what he really meant, Joy was sure. And who could blame him for thinking that? She was behaving like some inexperienced teenager rather than the mature woman she was supposed to be. The man was suggesting they dance together, not asking her to go to bed with him!
‘I would love to dance.’ She stood up determinedly once she had made the announcement, her forced confidence shaken a little as she realised that Marcus Ballantyne’s fingers were still entwined with hers, his hand tightening its grasp slightly as he stood up beside her, moving forward to make a path for them to the crowded dance-floor.
Joy had no choice but to go along with him; the clasp of his hand was deceptively light, but she had no doubt that if she seemed in any danger of leaving his side, for whatever reason, his fingers would tighten quite painfully.
Her heart was racing; a pulse seemed to be hammering in her throat as Marcus took her in his arms.
He was so much taller and bigger than she was, she realised, as he gathered her close against him, the top of her head resting under his chin, strong arms about her waist as he moulded her body against his.
Joy could barely breathe—and it had little to do with the fact that her face was buried against the hardness of his chest. It had everything to do with the fact that she was completely aware of this man, from the hard leanness of his body to the tantalising smell of the aftershave he wore.
He moved rhythmically to the beat of the music, his body seductive against hers, the crush of the dance-space making it impossible for them to move off the spot. When he had pulled her into his arms Joy hadn’t known what to do with her hands, but as Marcus put his arms possessively about her narrow waist she had perforce to place her hands on his broad shoulders. And she had never felt so uncomfortable in her life, her efforts to hold herself apart from Marcus quickly dealt with by him as he moulded her into the hard contours of his body with the firmness of his hands against her lower back. In fact, those hands were a little too familiar against the curve of the base of her spine!
‘I said relax, Joy.’ He lowered his head to murmur close to her ear, his breath warm and caressing against her skin. ‘We’re only dancing.’
It might only be dancing to him, but it felt more like making love to music to her! Maybe he was used to this sort of intimacy, but she certainly wasn’t; there didn’t seem to be a part of their bodies that wasn’t touching; even their legs were brushing together as they could only move from side to side to the music. So much for behaving like the mature woman she was supposed to be; her legs felt as if they were going to buckle beneath her if this battering to her senses continued.
‘Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Flirt a little!’ This was going from one extreme to the other. From merely existing for the last six months—going to work, then home, then back to work again—she had suddenly been thrust into a situation, with this wildly attractive man, that she just didn’t know how to deal with. She wasn’t just out of her depth, she was sinking! It reminded her of a poem she had loved to read when she was younger, she thought slightly hysterically, the poem a cry for help from someone everyone thought was in control but who was actually anything but. Her own self-assured control had completely deserted her.
‘Would you like to sit down again?’ Marcus offered huskily. ‘I’ve been wanting to hold you in my arms like this ever since I glanced across the restaurant earlier and saw you sitting there like a shimmering green flame among the dross,’ he continued softly. ‘But we can sit down if that’s what you would prefer to…God, Joy, what’s a woman like you doing with a man like Danny Eames?’ He suddenly sounded angry.
Joy gasped at this attack. ‘I—’
“The man is at best an idiot,’ Marcus rasped disparagingly. ‘At worst—’
‘I don’t really think it’s any of your business what I’m doing with Danny,’ Joy cut in, having recovered slightly from the unexpected attack. ‘And what do you mean,’ she added defensively, ‘a woman like me?’
‘You’re everything that Danny isn’t.’ Marcus shook his head. ‘You have style—something he will never have. Why are you wasting your time on a man like him?’
Joy looked up at him angrily. ‘When there’s someone like you around, you mean?’ she scorned.
‘We weren’t talking about me—’
‘Weren’t we?’ she interrupted again.
‘Maybe we were,’ he accepted slowly. ‘Joy, you’re worth a thousand of Danny Eames, don’t you realise that?’ he said almost angrily.
‘You don’t even know me,’ she dismissed with derision.
‘But I would like to,’ he told her huskily. ‘Very much so. You’re beautiful, Joy. So beautiful. You…I’m going to kiss you!’ he warned gruffly, seconds before his head lowered and his lips claimed hers.
Joy’s hands tightened instinctively on his shoulders. The two of them had given up any impression of dancing now, and Joy was aware of nothing but the gentle exploration of Marcus’s mouth against hers.
And the caress of those lips was so very, very gentle, softly exploring, the tip of his tongue lightly probing, his arms tightening about her waist now, the sound of Joy’s heart thundering in her ears.
‘Er—sorry to interrupt you two,’ a tentative voice intruded. ‘But we’re moving on, and wondering if you’re coming with us?’
She turned dazedly to look at Danny as Marcus reluctantly broke their kiss to raise his head and acknowledge the other man’s presence with a glowering glare. What was she doing? Having fun? Enjoying herself? Flirting a little? A little! If Danny hadn’t interrupted them when he had, God knew what would have happened, right here on the dance-floor!
‘No,’ Marcus answered the other man harshly, his arm tight about Joy’s waist as he anchored her to his side. ‘I’m taking Joy home,’ he announced arrogantly.
‘She’s staying at a hotel,’ Danny answered him a little dazedly, looking questioningly at Joy with raised brows.
As well he might. She had started this evening with one man, and was now apparently leaving with another one. Apparently, because she had no intention of letting Marcus take her back to her hotel. There were limits to having fun, enjoying herself, flirting a little, and she knew that she had more than reached them with Marcus. The man was dangerous—to her peace of mind, her sensibilities, to her control over a situation that was fast spiralling out of control. She hadn’t even been aware of where she was a moment ago, had been completely under Marcus’s sensuous spell.
‘Thank you for the offer, Marcus.’