Page 865 of One More Kiss

“Well, Max. Yes, I am famished and Dorie insisted we get here early to see to any last minute preparations. The least I’m owed is an early treat.”

Max chuckled once again, and took her hand. A “zing” shot through her fingers and straight to her head, inducing dizziness. It was a most unexpected—and unwanted—feeling.

One she explained away with thoughts of desperation. Years had passed since a man had touched her, and many months had gone since she’d taken matters of pleasure into her own hands. No wonder his quick, simple touches kept knocking her sideways.

He pulled her into a side door and into a galley kitchen, a place in all her years at the school Lu had never been. In the room, uniformed staff prepared trays to circulate the food amongst the faculty.

Max waved to one of the waiters and slid a few plates off of one tray. The waiter nodded, and Max said, “Thanks, pal,” like the two were old friends.

“A friend of yours?”

“No, well, I introduced myself tonight. I try to get to know the people around me. It seems like the courteous thing to do, don’t you think?”

Of course it was the polite thing to do. Lu hadn’t expected it from him, being Hollywood elite and all.

Which was, she realized, not a fair assessment.

She nodded, but didn’t reply. Instead, she took the small fork he held up and stabbed a small shrimp before dipping it into the cocktail sauce he’d spooned on to the plate for her.

Lu closed her eyes and moaned a little. She’d been much hungrier than she realized, and let a little of the pleasure of satisfying that need slip.

She opened her eyes to find Max staring at her, his lips parted slightly and breath coming at a rapid pace. She put down the fork and turned away in time, as Dorie burst through the door and startled at finding Lu and Max.

“Oh! Wasn’t expecting you here. You’d best head out. The board of trustees has arrived, and almost everyone else, too.” And then to the wait staff, Dorie snapped her fingers. “Go, go. Start circulating. Shrimp cocktail, start at bar one, antipasto at bar two. Canapés, and salmon, you split the middle, then circulate. Let’s go!”

Dorie was tiny but commanding, so not surprisingly, the staff jumped to attention at her instruction.

Lu held out a hand to Max. “Thank you for this. It will make the beginning of this evening much easier for me. I detest these things.”

“Not so social, eh?”

Not since I was a teenager. “Not so much. I’d prefer to be home, in bed, reading.”

“I do not mind these functions so much, but I would rather be home. In bed.”

And he left it at that as he walked away.

Unsatisfied, Lu called out, “Find me later. We have much to discuss.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Indeed we do, Lucinda Danvers. Indeed we do. Save a dance for me later.”

Dance? There would be dancing? Dorie had said nothing of the sort would be happening. More nervous than before, Lu straightened her dress and stumbled back out to the main hall to mingle.

Many others through the course of the evening held her attention captive, but her eyes searched the hall repeatedly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

* * *

Max madesmall talk with the other faculty and staff, all fascinated by the sudden addition to the college, straight from the west coast to the western North Carolina mountains. Max believed they would not be so kind and welcoming if they knew the reason he’d run from the only place he’d ever called home. While the conversation was pleasant enough, Max still scanned the length of the hall for the one person here who truly fascinated him. And as much as it had seemed, even yesterday, that she despised him for his perceived wrongs, today she desired to be close to him. So when he found her lurking behind a tall potted plant, sipping from a glass full of half-melted ice and amber liquor—likely her favored whiskey—he demanded what he desired.

“You promised me a dance.”

She spit her drink, spraying him with fine droplets. “While there is music, sir, there is no dance floor.” She turned back to face the crowded room.

“Ahhh, this is true, but there is an empty room this way that might well serve as one.” He turned, and her eyes followed. He crooked a finger in her direction, and surprisingly, she followed.

He bowed, and held out a hand. She set her glass down, and took hold of her hand firmly as his other arm encircled her waist. The faint strains of DeBussy’s “Clair De Lune” faded as he closed the door behind them. She jumped at the slight touch of fingers on her, and he sensed she felt the electricity he himself had experienced earlier.

He hoped she wanted him as much as he desired her. She was beautiful and feisty and he, he desperately wanted, needed companionship.

---