Still, she’d never been able to resist things that were bad for her.
She set down her wine. “Absolutely.”
He took her hand and led her to the edge of the parquet dance floor, then drew her into his arms. She went easily, finding the sense of being against him and swaying to music almost familiar. Had they done this before? In grad school? She didn’t remember a specific time when they’d—
“You’re frowning,” he said. “I’ll admit my moves are pretty basic, but I didn’t think they were frown-inducing.”
“What? Oh. Sorry. I was trying to remember if we’d ever danced together before.”
“We haven’t.”
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
“I am. I would have remembered.”
Which meant what? But rather than pursue the question, she drew in a deep breath and consciously relaxed into the rhythm of the music.
The slow song allowed them to sway together, touching from shoulder to thigh. He clasped one of her hands while her other rested on his shoulder.
“Did I mention you look stunning?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in her ear.
“No, and because of that, I think you should have to say it at least twice.”
“You look stunning. The dress is nearly as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”
Ooh, talk about smooth. He certainly was a man who knew his way around a compliment. “I don’t get much chance to dress up these days. It’s fun for a change.”
“And worth the wait.”
The song ended, leaving her feeling as if she wanted more. A lot more. But this was a work-related party and she still had rounds to make, as did Jack.
“I’m off to dazzle,” she said. “Thanks for the dance.”
“You’re welcome.”
He held her gaze a second longer than necessary, and in that heartbeat of time, she felt her body flush with need. All the tingles and whispers and little touches combined into an unexpected wave of sexual desire.
Then Jack turned and disappeared into the crowd.
She stared after him, trying to remember the last time she’d felt safe enough to want a man. She’d spent the last two years of her marriage simply going through the motions of intimacy because it had been expected, but she hadn’t enjoyed herself. She’d been too hurt and broken to let herself feel anything.
Had time begun to heal her wounds or was her reaction specifically about Jack? She knew what it was like to make love with him. The memory of their single night together had been burned into her brain. She remembered everything from the way he’d kissed her to the feel of him inside of her. He’d coaxed more orgasms from her that night than she’d had in the previous year.
Funny how a month ago she would have sworn she would never be interested in getting physical with a guy again in her life. But suddenly there were possibilities. Maybe not with anyone else, but certainly with Jack.
Jack didn’t bother counting the number of times he was compared with his father and told he was nearly as great as the old man had been. He couldn’t believe so many people could know about his father’s mismanaging of the company and still call him a good man.
By eleven, he was tired and ready to be done with the party. But there were more advertisers to schmooze and more hands to shake. It came with the job.
Helen walked over and offered him a glass of scotch. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
She looked beautiful in a fitted gown that showed off perfect curves. Her blond hair had been piled on her head, giving her a regal air. He didn’t doubt there were plenty of men willing to take her home for the night, or as long as they could get.
Had she done that? She was substantially younger than his father. Had she taken lovers to keep herself satisfied?
Then he pushed the thought away. Why was he once again assuming the worst about her? He’d lived in the city and traveled in similar social circles as his father and Helen. There’d never been a whisper of gossip about either of them.
“Not my idea of a good time,” he said. “What about you?”
She glanced around the crowd and shrugged. “Last year I came with George. I can’t stop thinking about that and I keep expecting to turn around and see him. It’s difficult.”
She took a sip of her drink. As she shifted and the light spilled across her face, he could’ve sworn he saw tears in her eyes.
He did swear, silently, calling himself several choice names for his earlier thoughts. “You really loved him.”
“Stop sounding so surprised when you say that,” she told him. “Of course I loved him. I’m very intelligent and very capable. I didn’t need to marry someone to get what I wanted from life. I could have done that on my own.”
He wanted to ask why his father. What qualities had the old man shown her that he’d managed to keep from his sons?
“They’re saying good things about you,” she said. “They’re happy you’re in charge.”
“So that sharp clanging sound I hear is the door closing on my freedom?”
“I don’t know,” she told him. “No one wants you to keep a job you hate.”
“Except the board of directors.”
“It’s not their job to be compassionate. I suspect, over time, they would come to see that an unhappy president wouldn’t be best for Hanson Media Group.”
“I don’t think I have that much time.”
“You could be right.” She took another sip from her drink. “I saw you dancing with Samantha. You make a very attractive couple.”
“She’s a beautiful woman.”
“And a friend. You’re a great guy, Jack, but I know how you are. Serial monogamy is great in theory, but sometimes someone gets hurt.”
She wasn’t being subtle. “You don’t want that person to be Samantha.”
“She’s just been through a difficult time.”
“I know about her divorce.”
Helen smiled. “I wonder if you really do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Be kind to my friend.”
“I’ll do my best.” He shook his head. “You put her name on the short list. I’d wondered how it got there.”
“I knew she would do a good job and I thought she was someone you could trust.”
There was something in her voice that implied she knew more than she was saying. How much had Samantha told her about their previous relationship?
“Good call on your part,” he said.
“Thanks. I have my moments.” She looked around at the large gathering. “Ready to plunge back into the hordes?”
“No, but there’s not much choice.”
She glanced back at him. “I know you don’t care or even want to hear this, but your father would have been very proud of you.”
He didn’t say anything because he was starting to like and respect Helen, but as she walked away he acknowledged she was right. He didn’t care about what his father thought.
Samantha knew she was babbling. It was late, she was tired and hungry and she couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“I think the party had a real positive impact on our relationships with our