The Wedding Secret. Michele Dunaway

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СКАЧАТЬ person he wanted to get to know. In more ways than one.

      But as Luke was thirty-five, he was beyond the one-night-stand mentality of his younger days. Sure, having sex was pleasurable, but the older he got, the more he realized quality was more important than quantity. He wanted to savor, to appreciate the woman. To enjoy her company for as long as it was mutually agreeable.

      Luke hadn’t met a woman like Cecile Duletsky in forever. Thankfully he was still seated, for parts of him had stirred to attention. Luke reached for his water goblet. He drained the contents in one long swallow, but that did little to quench the thirst he’d developed.

      At this point in his life, he’d reached the place where he wanted it all, starting with finding the right woman who could hold her own. After all, he had everything else: condo, car, sailboat and a fantastic job. Those were all material possessions, just “stuff.” In reality, nice but meaningless. What he needed was to find his other half. The way Devon had.

      Luke wanted nothing less. That’s why he tossed himself out there, dating now and then, trying to find his soul mate. As for Cecile, the gods had blessed him when they’d paired her with him tonight. Luke was a believer in fate, but he knew that to get a door to open you at least had to jiggle the handle. That’s what he’d been doing with Cecile. Testing her.

      She’d passed.

      The bride and groom chose that moment to wander back to the head table and sip champagne from the engraved hand-blown flutes custom-made for the occasion. Strange to think that the neighbor Luke had grown up throwing mud and snowballs at had become Dr. Devon Pinewood, esteemed surgeon and happily married man.

      Luke and Devon were about a year apart in age and had been a grade level apart at the private prep school they’d both attended. That hadn’t stopped them from getting into loads of boyhood trouble over the years, even if lately the only trouble had been on the golf course when each tried to finagle his way to the lower score. Elizabeth had been a calming influence on Devon from the moment they’d met at a charity event four years ago. Luke smiled as he watched the couple. They’d had some rough spots but worked through them.

      Hopefully Luke could also find that magic. Of course, he and Devon had different ideas of what comprised the perfect woman. Unlike Devon, Luke wanted his woman to be an independent spirit who vocalized her thoughts and stirred him up.

      Cecile certainly got him going. Perhaps her assertive nature came with the hair—those strawberry-blond strands just begged a man to touch that human fire. Her hair fit her flamboyant and outgoing nature.

      Devon’s mother approached the head table. Mistress of the clock, she pointed to her watch. “It’s time for the wedding party dances,” she said. She scanned the room, mentally locating each member of the wedding party. “Where’s Cecile?” she asked, directing the question at Luke.

      “She’s in the ladies’ room,” Luke said as he rose to his feet. “I’ll go get her.”

      “Thank you.” An expression of relief crossed Amanda’s face, and Luke understood why Elizabeth’s parents had simply ceded much of the control for the wedding. Luke didn’t know much about the Duletskys, but a glance over at their table showed that they were having a relaxed and fun time.

      Wise people, Luke noted.

      He kept an eye out for Cecile as he left the ballroom, but he didn’t see her. He exited, strolling toward the restrooms. He caught up with her just as she was leaving. She wasn’t paying much attention and practically bumped into him.

      “Steady,” he said as he gripped her arms lightly to stop her from teetering. The dyed-to-match heels she wore weren’t too stable.

      Her green eyes widened as she recognized her savior. “What are you doing, following me around?” she demanded.

      Yep, she was definitely the type who rallied. No one would ever mistake her for being passive, and Cecile was certainly unlike the women who subtly pointed out their availability as Loretta had done earlier. He and Cecile were turning out to be very compatible, and he was finding her a perfect match for every one of his predetermined criteria. He liked the way she felt pressed against him. He enjoyed her wit and refusal to back away from a challenge. Her green eyes were hypnotic orbs he could drown in. Cecile was the entire package—beauty and brains. And she connected with him on all levels. If tonight went well, he was ready for it to be the first of many.

      “Actually, yes, I was following you,” Luke admitted. He slid his hands down her arms and curled her fingers into his palms. “It’s time for me to show you my moves. We’re wanted on the dance floor.”

      Chapter Four

      She almost tripped again, but his hands continued to steady her. His touch created an odd tingling, something she’d been in the bathroom trying to avoid.

      There was definitely a large amount of chemistry zinging between them, and for some reason Cecile was scared. Something about Luke made her feel as if she were in a fun house, on one of those moving floors that tilted you off balance.

      “Elizabeth and Devon are sharing the first dance,” Luke said as he led her back into the ballroom, his hand on the small of her back to guide her. “We’re up next.”

      The lights had dimmed and a spotlight was trained on the center of the dance floor where Devon and Elizabeth were wrapped in each other’s arms.

      “Ready?” Luke asked.

      Cecile trembled slightly. His touch had made her edgy, as if she were about to fall down a slippery slope—and yet something told her she’d love every minute of the dangerous experience. “You know, the wedding party having to dance is a silly ritual,” Cecile said.

      “You’re such a romantic,” Luke said, chuckling at her cynical attempt to disengage. “And I would normally agree with you, except that this ritual gets you into my arms, and for that I’m grateful. I’m looking forward to holding you.”

      That statement simply had Cecile closing her mouth, her glib reply dying on her lips. As much as the prospect of being close to him both appealed and frightened, she found herself wanting him to hold her. She’d had such a bad run with men, but she sensed that Luke was somehow innately different. Yet, was this just here and now? Or maybe something more?

      “Let’s go see how I dance,” Luke said, not giving her a chance to contemplate her thoughts further. The confident gleam in his blue eyes spoke volumes.

      The spotlight dance concluded, and within seconds she was out on the dance floor and pressed up against him. He slid his arm around her, his right hand splayed against the curve of her lower back. His moves were easy as they stepped in rhythm, a unity to their flow.

      Heat began to rise, creating a flush that spread across Cecile’s face and chest. If she wanted, she could easily lean her head forward and rest it on his shoulder, but instead she glanced over that shoulder and tried to stare into the darkness and decipher the mess her feelings had become.

      She was older now, and this wedding had proved to her that she did want it all. Luke was the whole package. His fingers pressed against her, drawing her closer, his intentions clear. He was temptation personified, his moves a prelude to the night to come, should she choose to accept. The music ended.

      “How’d I do?” he said, his deep voice holding a slightly husky quality.

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