Ultimate Weapon (McClouds & Friends #6)(62)

Everything seemed strangely beautiful tonight. The way the light from the tall white candles on the table glimmered in the curved surfaces of the wine and water glasses pleased her. So did the luscious glow of the silver buckets that held the white wine and the champagne. Mellow golden candlelight sparkled and reflected and refracted, softening everything and everyone she looked upon. What a pleasure to draw air into her lungs and feel her ribcage willingly expand to accommodate them. No iron plates clamping down, no need to struggle for air, to fight her way out of a cage of steel. No need to maintain a tight, aching smiling mask on her face.

What a pleasure, just to let herself be happy.

God, she could almost eat. She looked down at the plate and forked up a bite of butterfly pasta with smoked salmon and cream. It felt good in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, heedless of carbs, saturated fat, calories. What the hell. It was a party, after all. She had some more and washed it down with more wine.

Heat was branded into her cheeks. An alcohol flush, she supposed. She should skip the wine. But she felt so soft, so relaxed. She took a last, farewell swallow. Then another.

“Dance with me?” Janos asked softly.

The reasons why she should not get close to this man scrolled automatically in her head, but she ignored them. She was enjoying this strange, soft glow so intensely. Knowing it couldn’t possibly last made it all the more precious.

She hadn’t felt like this in…well, ever. She’d been too young and innocent before. Back behind that blood-spattered, concrete wall in her mind, crowned with barbed wire, broken glass.

The wall that separated Then from Now.

Tension rose up, clutching at her. Leave it. Don’t go there, even for a second, or you’ll kill this feeling and never get it back.

She took another gulp of wine and pushed her chair back.

Just a dance. He couldn’t do anything nasty to her on a public dance floor. She wanted to move to the music with a big, pretty man to hold onto. None of the other men in this room had the courage to touch her.

Janos wasn’t afraid of her. That was as dangerous as it was irresistible. She gazed at him, weighing the danger, the temptation.

“Let me check Rachel,” she said.

She wafted through the room, Janos padding quietly behind her like some sinuous jungle predator. His enormous presence made her body prickle and tingle, asking a wordless question and waiting breathlessly for his answer—though she knew what it would be.

Men were predictable that way. But for some reason, that fact didn’t annoy the hell out of her tonight.

She found Rachel in a high chair, swathed in multiple brocade napkins, face smeared with red sauce, mouth full of pasta. Sveti was coaxing bites into her, while darting intermittent gazes heavy with longing out onto the dance floor.

Tam leaned down to kiss the little girl. “She ate?”

“Pasta with tomato sauce and cheese, french fries, vegetables, and chicken strips,” Sveti said triumphantly. “And fresh fruit!”

Good. Rachel lifted goopy hands to grab her, and Tam leaned down, heedless of pasta sauce to accept the hug. The fierce, almost angry rush of love she felt for the little girl was no different from the love she always felt—except that tonight, there was no painful cramp of fear and caution inhibiting her. It felt so good to be grabbed by those little arms. She loved the kid so much it hurt. Like a knife going in and twisting. But tonight, the pain was all right. In fact, the pain felt almost good. It was hardly pain at all. It was something else altogether.

But she was too gone to bother analyzing it. She was no expert on tender emotions. They were too new to her.

She caught another longing glance from Sveti as she straightened up, aimed at Josh Cattrell, dancing with the girlfriend du jour. Laughing as he grabbed the girl’s ass. Moron.

She leaned over Sveti, murmured in Ukrainian into the girl’s ear. “He’s not worthy,” she said forcefully. “He’ll be no good to any woman for years yet. You’re ten times more intelligent, beautiful and strong than that heifer he’s groping, and in a few years, you’ll be more. If he’s grown up enough by then to be worth your time, fine. If not, men will be lined up, panting. On their knees. You’ll take your pick of them.”

Sveti tried to smile. On impulse, Tam kissed her cheek and smoothed the girl’s hair off her forehead. Then she backed away, startled by her own emotions.

Janos pulled her gently but insistently onto the dance floor. She relaxed into his arms, letting her head drop back to look up at the garish chandelier in the center of the ceiling. It seemed to spin like a galaxy, a vortex of light. It was delicious to let go, lie back, rely entirely on his strength. She reveled in the sensation, though she knew it was just a passing fantasy. But ah, what a fantasy. Sweet surrender—and way too much wine, no doubt.

It was criminally irresponsible of her to have gotten this tipsy with Rachel to protect after what had happened this morning, but the scolding thought had no sting. She was blissing out on the woodsy, cedary sweetness mixed with salt, rain, moss and summer sunshine that was Val Janos’s intoxicating scent. His shoulders were so broad, his arms so solid and thick. Those hard, sinewy muscles beneath her fingers made her want to explore every cut and dip and curve, every marvelous masculine detail. She wanted to drape herself across him. To stretch and preen, like a lioness on a sun-warmed rock.

She felt so relaxed. The closest she’d ever come to this feeling was after a grueling physical workout and a hot shower. But this was different, better. Magic. She floated in his arms, flushed with heat and color. Like a sunset-tinted cloud.