Stacy Connelly – The Wedding She Always Wanted (страница 2)

The aftershave he wore blended with the flowers and vanilla candles, providing a masculine element missing from the too-feminine scents. His breath stirred the fine hair at the nape of her neck, and Emily had the foolish thought that she should have worn her hair down.

Like any hairstyle could possibly provide protection against a man like Javier Delgado.

“Kelsey does look amazing, doesn’t she?”

His words barely registered. He hadn’t just brushed his lips against her ear when he spoke, had he? No, he wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have….

Maybe if she asked him to repeat the sentence, he’d do it again, and she’d know for sure.

An unfamiliar heat pooled in her belly, sapping the strength from her legs. The warning system that failed her earlier rang out loud and clear, but Emily couldn’t bring herself to step away. She was afraid if she moved at all, it would be to sink into the tall, masculine body surrounding her.

“I … um …” Emily swallowed. “Yes, Kelsey looks beautiful.”

She and Aileen had styled her cousin’s curly red hair into an elegant twist and applied a sophisticated, smoky-eyed makeup, which down-to-earth Kelsey rarely wore. But Kelsey’s gown was too heavenly for anything less. Thanks to her friendship with a local dress designer, Kelsey had had a gorgeous ivory strapless gown altered in a matter of days, and even though the dress wasn’t custom-made, the fit certainly was.

But Emily knew it wasn’t the hair or the makeup or the wedding gown. The love and happiness glowing in her expression as she gazed at her new husband made Kelsey the most beautiful woman there.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever seen Connor so happy,” Javier added.

“You sound surprised.” Emily turned to face Javy, thinking she’d be better off if she could keep an eye on him. Or maybe not, she realized as her heart did another tap dance inside her chest when she gazed up at his handsome face.

“I guess I am. My friend never struck me as a ‘falling head over heels for a woman’ kind of guy.”

Emily had a feeling Javy’s statement said more about his own relationships than it did about Connor’s. “Because the two of you are so alike?”

“Used to be,” he said easily enough, but the slight frown pulling at his eyebrows contradicted the unconcerned acceptance. “But things change.”

“Yes, they do….” Emily’s voice trailed off as three middle-aged women walked by, exchanging knowing looks and smug smiles.

“Hello, Emily,” one called out, arching her eyebrows and making a point of looking from Emily to Javy and back again, their seclusion in the out-of-the-way corner suddenly taking on a salacious air.

Managing a nod, she watched the women walk away, heads bent together as they whispered to one another.

“Who the he—heck are they?”

Face flaming, Emily said, “Those are some of my mother’s friends.”

But Emily was well aware that friends of her mother often had daughters her own age. Daughters Emily had beaten out in long-ago beauty pageants or for homecoming queen or for the lead role in some forgotten play. They were more than happy to see her publicly humiliated.

Keeping her gaze averted, Emily stared into the distance, not wanting to see the pity in Javy’s dark eyes.

“You know,” he said softly, “I think you might be one of the bravest women I’ve ever met.”

Emily let out a sharp laugh, the sound grating like broken glass against her throat. “And here I was, just thinking I’m the world’s biggest coward.”

Tears burned her eyes at the admission. Ducking her head, Emily turned away from Javy, horrified by the thought of breaking down in front of him. She didn’t make it more than a few yards when she heard his steps on the granite floor behind her.

Catching her arm, he steered her to the left. “Come on. No more standing on the sidelines. Let’s dance.”

Vaguely aware of a romantic ballad playing in the background, Emily shook her head. “No. Forget it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not dancing,” she argued as he turned her toward him.

“Why not?”

“I’ve given people enough reason to talk about me. Last thing I need to do is anything else to attract attention.” Javy smiled slowly.

“Too late.”

Emily didn’t realize what he meant until he slid an arm around her lower back and pulled her body into his. He’d led her to the center of the dance floor, and unless she wanted to walk off mid-dance, she had little choice but to stay where she was. And when her arms automatically wrapped around his broad shoulders, she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

His dark eyes looked almost as velvety black as the night sky above, and the sexy spark she saw in his gaze put the Milky Way to shame. He danced like a man who knew how to move his body … and how to make a woman respond. His hands trailed down her spine to the curve of her hips; his thighs brushed against hers in time with the music, each step making her breath catch in anticipation of the next. With the stiff stays lining the strapless bodice of her dress, she couldn’t possibly feel the beat of his heart. Which meant the wild, crazy rhythm was hers alone.

“Relax,” Javy commanded, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. “Forget that anyone’s watching.”

Emily had forgotten about the guests lining the edges of the dance floor. Any tension he had picked up on was strictly from locking her knees to keep from puddling at his feet. She tried to take a calming breath, only to inhale his cologne, the enticing scent drawing her closer to the spot where his broad shoulder met the tanned column of his neck.

“Unless you want to give them something to really talk about,” he murmured, and she doubted he meant the scene she’d make running from the dance floor.

“No. I couldn’t,” she said, her voice a weak, broken sound.

“Come on. You can’t be that worried about what people are going to say.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? The only thing worse than being here and having all these people talk about me behind my back would be to stay home and have them talk about me without any restraint at all.”

“So show ‘em you don’t care,” he encouraged, lifting a hand and running his index finger from the nape of her neck down … over her bare skin … until he hit the top of her dress, where he traced the line of the zipper to the small of her back.

Half surprised the small metal teeth didn’t simply melt away, Emily swallowed hard and searched for an argument to keep herself from doing the same. “I do care. I should care. Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I was supposed to be marrying the man I loved and—”

“But you didn’t. And you’re relieved.”

“Of course I’m relieved. Who would want to be married to someone who cheated and lied?”

“I mean, you’re relieved because you didn’t love him.”

Emily pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. If his dark eyes had slowly peeled away her clothes, she wouldn’t have been surprised—he had that kind of reputation. But she hadn’t anticipated the way his knowing look stripped bare all the insecurities she’d tried to hide. Totally exposed, she struggled to duck behind an indignant front.

“What makes you so sure? You don’t know me. You don’t know—”

“I know when a woman’s in love, and I know when she’s heartbroken. And you, sweetheart, are neither.”

Javy let Emily go at the end of the dance. He couldn’t help watching her walk away. The gown she wore fit her willowy curves to perfection, drawing his eyes to her slender waist and the flare of her hips. The color—a soft, innocent pink—made her skin look even creamier. She had a grace and bearing that spoke of her wealth and pedigree. He would have gladly danced with her all night—breathing in the scent of peaches on her skin, following the fragrance from the curve of her neck, left bare by her upswept hair, to the hollow of her throat, to the valley between her breasts—but the worry clouding her blue eyes had told him how truly concerned she was by what the high-society guests around them thought.

Too bad she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to give the crowd something to talk about. His blood heated at the thought of Emily kissing him in front of the whole crowd, of discovering her unique taste, feeling the slow, soft slide of her lips against his own. But he supposed it would require something bigger than dumping a fiancé she didn’t really love to shake up her world that much.

Making his way to the bar, he ordered a beer. Champagne toasts were likely the thing, but he had simpler tastes. He’d taken his first sip from the bottle when an exuberant hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“Hey, having fun?”

Javy turned to meet Connor’s grin. “You bet. This is my kind of party,” he said wryly. “Loved the ice sculpture, by the way. What the hell was it supposed to be? Some kind of snake?”

“A swan,” his friend said, only to admit a split second later, “I think. Anyway, this is what Kelsey wanted. Her dream wedding.” As he spoke, his gaze immediately sought out his new wife, who was dancing with her uncle.

Javy figured he could have dumped the melting serpent/swan into his friend’s lap and he wouldn’t have noticed. “I’m happy for you, man. Really.” He winced, hearing the doubt he was trying a little too hard to hide.