them. They love you,’ he said, ‘and it’s pretty clear they worry about you.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m thirty years old. I can look after myself.’
‘Families are supposed to worry about you,’ he reminded her.
‘Does yours worry about you?’ she challenged.
He smiled. ‘When I let them, yes.’
‘So you’re as bad as I am—except I bet you keep yours at bay by being grumpy.’
‘And you keep yours at bay by sparkling,’ he fenced.
‘Sparkling?’
‘Like vintage champagne in candlelight,’ he said.
Oh, for goodness’ sake. Anyone would think he’d been drinking way too much of the vintage champagne. He simply didn’t wax poetic like that. But something about Bailey made the words flow and he couldn’t stop them.
She smiled. ‘You think I’m sparkly?’
‘Very,’ he admitted.
‘Thank you—that’s a really lovely thing to say. Especially as I’ve pretty much neglected you today, and you’re doing me a huge favour by being here in the first place.’
‘You haven’t neglected me.’ And he was suddenly really glad that he’d agreed to do this. Because he was seeing a new side to Bailey Randall—a side he really liked. Sweet and playful and totally charming; yet it was totally genuine.
He held her closer. Somehow they were dancing cheek to cheek, and his hand was splayed at the top of her dress. He could feel the warmth of her skin against his fingertips and it sent a thrill right through him. Right at that moment it felt as if it was just the two of them on the dance floor, with nobody else around for miles and miles and miles.
‘Your back is perfect,’ he murmured.
‘Why, thank you, Dr Fraser.’
‘Sorry.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t mean to say that. Ignore me.’
She pulled back slightly to look him straight in the eye. ‘I wasn’t being sarcastic—and I wasn’t offended. Seriously, Jared, thank you for the compliment.’
Her mouth was beautiful; her lower lip was full and he itched to catch it between his.
Oh, this was bad.
Why was he thinking about kissing her?
‘I noticed how perfect your back was when we trained together,’ he said. And now he was making things much worse. He really needed to shut up.
She ran one finger down his sleeve. ‘And I noticed your biceps when we trained together.’ Her voice had grown husky. ‘I like your biceps. They’re perfect, too.’
He knew that he was supposed to be just playing the part of her partner, but right now he wanted to make it reality. So he dipped his head. Just a little bit. Just enough that his mouth could brush against hers.
She tasted of champagne and wedding cake—and he liked it. A lot.
He pulled back so he could look her in the eye and take his cue from her. If she wanted him to back off, he’d do it.
But her lips were ever so slightly parted and there was a sparkle in her eyes that he’d never seen before.
‘Bailey, I really want to kiss you,’ he whispered.
‘I want you to kiss me, too,’ she whispered back.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He dipped his head again and took his sweet time kissing her. Every brush of his mouth against hers, every nibble, made him more and more aware of her. And she was kissing him back, her arms wrapped as tightly round him as his were round her.
He wanted this to last for ever.
But then he became aware that the music had changed and become more uptempo, and he and Bailey were still swaying together as if the band was playing a slow song. He broke the kiss, and he could see the exact moment that she realised what was going on, too. Those gorgeous dark eyes were absolutely huge. And she looked as shocked as he felt. Panicked,
almost.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
‘I, um …’ she said, and tailed off.
‘Yeah.’ He didn’t know what to say, either. What he really wanted to do was kiss her again—but they were in a public place. With her best friend and her family in attendance. And doing what he really wanted to do would cause all kinds of complications. He didn’t want to get involved with anyone. Apart from that one awful evening when his best friend had persuaded him to try speed dating—an experience he never wanted to repeat—Jared hadn’t dated since his divorce. No way was he setting himself up to get hurt again, the way he he’d been with Sasha—even though he knew that Bailey wasn’t a bit like Sasha.
‘I guess I ought to do some chief bridesmaid stuff and get the kids dancing,’ she said.
And he ought to offer to help her. Except there was just a hint of fear in her eyes. He didn’t think she was scared of him; maybe, he thought, she was just as scared of getting involved as he was. Especially given that she’d asked him to be her fake partner to keep her family happy. Bailey had obviously been hurt at some point, too, and they clearly worried about her.
‘I guess,’ he said. ‘Do you, um, want a hand?’
‘Do you like kids?’
That was an easy one. ‘Yes, I do.’ And he’d always thought he’d have children of his own one day. Sasha had taken the choice of keeping the baby away from him, and at that point he’d realised just how much he wanted to be a dad. But unless he took the risk of giving someone his heart—the right woman, someone he could really trust—that wasn’t going to happen.
He pushed the thought away and concentrated on helping Bailey organise the children. She was a natural with them—they responded to her warmth. Just like him.
‘If you could dance with some of the wallflowers,’ she said quietly to him, ‘that would be kind.’
Kind wasn’t what he was feeling right now, but kind would be a hell of a lot safer. ‘Sure,’ he said.
Even though he was polite and made conversation with the women he danced with, he was totally aware of Bailey throughout the entire evening. Her smile, her sparkle, her warmth. And she made him ache.
He wanted her. Really wanted her. But he knew she’d panicked as much as he had when they’d kissed, so it was a bad idea. They needed to go back to being strictly colleagues. Somehow.
At the end of the evening he said his goodbyes to Bailey’s family, trusting that she’d manage to get him out of a promise to see them soon.
‘I guess this is it, then,’ she said as she walked him to the door of the ballroom.
‘I’ll call a taxi and see you home first,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
He smiled. ‘Yes, I do. I’m old-fashioned. So let’s not argue about it—just humour me on this one, OK?’
She didn’t argue and let him organise a taxi. She didn’t say much on the journey back to her place; although Jared desperately wanted to reach for her hand, he kept a tight rein on himself and simply joined her in sitting quietly.
When the taxi stopped, he paid the cabbie.
‘Isn’t he taking you home now?’ Bailey asked, and he could see the panic in her eyes. Did she really think that he expected her to invite him in for a nightcap—or more?
‘No. I’m seeing you to your doorstep and waiting until you’re safely inside, then I’m taking the Tube home,’ Jared said. ‘And,