Let Me Hold You. Melanie Schuster

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      “This is the best party I’ve been to since you got married,” Alana Sharp Dumond announced. She raised her flute of champagne to her sister, Alexis Sharp VanBuren. Alexis had married her true love, Jared VanBuren, in a fabulous Valentine’s Day wedding and now, the Saturday before Christmas, they were at the reception of Sherri Stratton and Lucas VanBuren, Jared’s younger brother.

      Alexis took a sip of her alcohol-free spumante and smiled at her older sister. She wasn’t drinking because she and Jared were expecting their first baby. “We started off the year with a wedding and we’re ending it with one. Perfect symmetry, I’d say.”

      “A great way to end the year,” Alana agreed. “Yes, I’d love some more,” she added happily to the waiter who was offering to refill her glass.

      Alexis raised a carefully groomed eyebrow as Alana took a rather healthy swallow of her drink. “You better slow down, sister. You’ve had quite a bit of that tonight.”

      Alana grinned to show that she didn’t take offense at her younger sister’s words of caution. “I’m drinking for two since you can’t have any. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ve eaten enough food for two linebackers and it’s soaking up all the alcohol very nicely. Now I want to dance,” she said cheerfully.

      They were sitting at the long table set up for the wedding party, which was being held at Seven-Seventeen, the stylish and successful upscale restaurant owned by the VanBuren brothers and their friend, Roland Casey. The VanBurens were chefs and restaurateurs and Roland was their partner. The table was mostly empty at the moment, since the bride and groom were out on the dance floor looking at each other with the eyes of love. Jared and Roland were outside smoking expensive cigars while most of the other attendants were either dancing or taking funny pictures in the photo booth that had been rented for the occasion.

      Alana could sense Alexis getting ready to continue the conversation about her intake of Moet and she beckoned to David Stratton, Sherri’s brother.

      “C’mon and dance with me, David,” she said. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up yet.” Giving her sister a wink, she took his hand and they went to join the other dancers just as the music changed to something fast and jazzy.

      Alexis sighed while she watched the two of them head for the dance floor. Alana was just a bit too giddy for her taste, not that her older sister would act up or make a scene. It just wasn’t like her to imbibe so much, but it was such a festive occasion that who could blame her?

      Jared and Roland came back to the table looking rakish and debonair in their tuxedoes with the ties loosened. Her husband sat down and pulled her chair close to his side before putting his arm around her and kissing her neck, enjoying the little purr that she always made when he did that.

      Roland grinned at the two of them and said, “Get a room, you two. Where’s my beautiful partner?” He scanned the room looking for Alana, with whom he’d been paired in the wedding.

      Alexis stroked her husband’s face and sighed as he took her hand and kissed the palm. “She’s out on the dance floor shaking her booty,” she replied.

      Roland made a face of mock outrage as his eyes found Alana, who was indeed dancing in a lively but sexy fashion with David Stratton. “I’ll see you two scandalous people later. I’m going to reclaim my woman-to-be,” he announced as he took off in her direction.

      Alexis laughed softly as Jared pulled her out of her chair and into his lap. “What’s that about?” she murmured.

      “Roland likes Alana,” he answered. “He says she’s been dodging him long enough and he’s about to stake his claim.”

      “I wish him luck with that one,” Alexis said dryly. “Bolder men than Roland have tried to storm Fort Alana and failed. They all come home bruised and empty-handed.”

      Jared was busy kissing the back of her hand but he stopped long enough to answer her. “You don’t know Roland. My family always called him my brother from another mother because we’re alike in so many ways. Number one, we know our woman when we see her. And number two, the word no means ‘try harder’ to us. We don’t give up when we really want something and I have a feeling that Roland really wants Alana.”

      “I wish him luck, but he’s got his work cut out for him. In the meantime, I want to go be sociable with our folks and then go home. I need some alone time with my baby before our baby gets here,” she said with a teasing light in her eyes.

      * * *

      Alana was just leaving the dance floor when a strong arm went around her waist. She looked up in surprise and then she smiled at Roland.

      “I take it you want to dance,” she said teasingly.

      “I do. You’re supposed to be my partner and I’ve been deprived of your company for too long,” he replied.

      “Well, we’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

      The music was a slow number and Roland was a great dancer. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket and the way his broad shoulders looked in his shirt was amazing. As he held her close, she could detect the sexy scent of a rich, expensive cigar and equally pricy cognac. Before she could stop herself she leaned in closer and took a deep sniff and detected the even more enticing scent of his skin. She felt his muscular chest move as he laughed softly.

      “Find anything you like?” he asked. His voice was deep, sensual and even headier than his fragrance.

      “You smell good,” she answered. “Really, really good. You’re a good dancer, too.”

      She raised her eyes to his and studied him carefully. It was almost like seeing him for the first time, which was crazy. She’d met Roland months ago after he and Lucas VanBuren had moved from Chicago to Columbia to open Seven-Seventeen. They’d been around each other quite a bit, at family gatherings and the like, but she couldn’t claim to know him very well, no better than he knew her. Gazing at him now, she took in every one of his features and realized that they added up to a very compelling package.

      Roland was tall, maybe even taller than Jared. He was much more muscular than Jared, though; he was built like a linebacker. His skin was a rich deep brown with red undertones, smooth as milk chocolate. His eyes were penetrating, with thick black eyebrows and lashes that were way too long and pretty for a man. With his high cheekbones and chiseled lips, he could have been almost feminine except for his strong, slightly hooked nose and his neatly trimmed goatee. His head was bald and perfectly shaped and all in all, he was an extremely handsome man.

      “Is there something on my face? Spinach in my teeth?” Roland looked amused instead of put off, which was good.

      “I’ve been staring at you, haven’t I? Sorry about that,” Alana said with a crooked smile. “I usually have better manners than this.”

      “It’s quite all right with me, I liked it. This is the longest you’ve looked at me since we met. Did you like what you see? I mean, do I pass?”

      “You get an A-plus,” she replied. “An A-plus-plus, as a matter of fact.”

      Roland’s eyes lit up and his smile was warm enough to melt a glacier. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said. His voice was so silky and deep it was like having a Pashmina draped over her bare shoulders.

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