Page 48 of Dare to Love Again

“I’ve watched you move, darlin’. You have a dancer’s elegance and grace.” He nibbled his way across the back of her hand then flipped it over and brushed his mouth over the pulse point on the inner aspect of her wrist. “Try again. This time with the truth.”

“I took ballet as a child until I was fourteen. I had dreams of becoming a professional dancer.”

“Why did you stop?”

“It’s hard on the body. I had torn ligaments in the same knee twice in one year, and then there was the obvious.”

Still teasing her skin with kisses, he looked up in question.

“Puberty.”

His gaze slid downward, boldly appraising her. “You don’t have the typical ballerina body, but that pleases me. I like softness against me rather than hard edges and sharp points.”

He was in luck; soft is what he’d get with her. Getting the impression, he would frown on negative self-talk, she didn’t say that, however.

“Did I mention you look lovely tonight? You did clingy well; that dress hugs your curves to perfection, and all those pretty blushes have brought a glow to your complexion.” He paused and inhaled. “Instead of flowers, which make me sneeze, your scent reminds me of the beach. And I’ll refrain from commenting on all the wicked ideas those shoes have given me.”

The five-inch stilettos she’d chosen to wear were of the fuck-me variety; she couldn’t argue the point, so she deliberately ignored his shoe reference.

“It’s my lotion,” she muttered, shaken by his compliments and the irresistible pull he had on her. She tugged at their joined hands. He didn’t let go but lowered them to the table where he lightly stroked the back with his thumb.

“Are you ready to tell me what sent you into a panic earlier?”

“The couple at the next booth.”

“You’ve been in the dungeon many times and seen a lot more than that. Why did it bother you tonight?”

“She called him Andrew, my husband’s name. It...”

“Triggered something inside you. I’m guessing guilt.”

It took an effort to look up at him. She found what she expected; him watching her closely. “You’re very perceptive.”

“I haven’t been through it, but I imagine it’s normal for the surviving partner to feel that way when they move on.”

“That’s what I’m told, but knowing it’s normal doesn’t make it easier. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. I’m not usually so rude.”

“Ordinarily, you’d have ended up bare-assed over my knee, but you’re working through something. You’ll get there, Esme, but I can’t promise you’ll get the same restraint from me the next time.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered as her backside blossomed with a tingling heat, immediately recalling both the pleasure and the pain to be had while facedown over Master Finn’s lap.

Conversation between them halted as the band started another set with a cover of the Goo Goo Dolls’ “Use Me.” They were good, but the lyrics hit too close to home—so many songs seemed to for her—and she nervously tried to talk over them.

“It’s funny you mentioned the beach. I didn’t have club wear that wasn’t leather. I ended up blowing my clothes budget on shoes and something clingy. It left me skimping on a fragrance. It’s actually called Beach, from Bath & Body Works.”

“On you, it’s priceless.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips again, the smile playing around his lips telling her he knew what she was doing—misdirection—and badly. “It puts me in the mood for a piña colada. Do you like them?”

“Yes, especially frozen with chunks of fresh pineapple.”

“Let’s see if our surly bartender can blend us up one, shall we?”

“You drink frozen fruity drinks, sir?” Her gaze swept over him from head to toe, not seeing an ounce of excess fat. Sugar couldn’t be the main staple of his diet, not to keep as fit as he was. “You don’t seem the type.”

“I drink whatever suits me, which is usually Teeling’s Irish Whiskey, but you’ve got my tongue greedy for a taste of coconut.”

The blush he’d mentioned spread in a wave of heat from her cheeks down to her throat. When his eyes dipped to the low neckline of her dress, she guessed to the upper swells of her breasts as well.

Equally charming and seductive, Keiran Finnegan was dangerous to her peace of mind and so dreamy it made her ache. His dark wavy hair needed a trim, but she liked the way it curled around his ears and on his collar. Remembering its silky-soft texture, she had to fight the urge to run her fingers through the shiny strands.

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