A Price Worth Paying(27)

And then Ezmerelda turned her head and her smile widened as her gaze fell on Alesander, a smile that slid away when her eyes found her standing alongside, especially when she saw what she was wearing. Simone saw confusion in her beautiful eyes, and anger and something else that looked like hurt, and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

‘Alesander,’ she said, turning away once she’d recovered, ‘how lovely of you to come.’

They kissed cheeks. ‘You’re looking beautiful, as usual, Ezmerelda. I’d like you to meet Simone Hamilton.’

‘How lovely you brought a friend,’ she said with barely a glance in her direction, ‘but then when do you not have a friend? You’re simply too popular, Alesander.’

She wanted to run. It was like being in a lion’s den with a lioness whose cub she was trying to steal. A hungry lioness. But Alesander wouldn’t let her run. He had her pinned in tight next to his body and he wasn’t letting her go.

It was a relief when a band started playing. ‘Ah,’ Ezmerelda said, ‘the tango display is about to begin, a special treat for my father. I must find him.’

Simone almost sagged with relief, thankful now that he had such a tight hold on her.

‘Come,’ he said, ushering her to a balcony overlooking the floor below, where two dancers posed dramatically, metres apart, on the marble floor. The woman was stunning, her gown like a sheath that flared into a sequin-studded skirt slit to the hip. The man looked equally potent.

And they watched as the music became more dramatic and the dancers circled each other almost warily before starting their attack. And it almost seemed like an attack to Simone—a chase, a seduction, rejection and sex. The dance was unmistakably about sex.

She felt it through each dramatic gesture, each silken caress, all of them purposeful and part of the game. They were exhilarating. But the last was the best, the music evocative and sexy and the dancers, now gleaming in the light with sweat, turned the music physical with their bodies. ‘What is this music?’ she whispered, moved by its powerful emotion.

‘It’s called Sentimientos,’ he whispered back, close to her ear, his warm breath fanning her ear and throat while his thumb traced lazy circles on the back of her hand. ‘It means feelings.’

It didn’t surprise her. It was the most beautiful music she had ever heard.

Just as the dancers’ physical expression of the music was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She felt breathless with the spectacle, and never before had she been so acutely aware of the man standing beside her, of his steady breathing, of all the places where their bodies touched.

She liked how it felt.

She hated that she liked it.

And when the dancing was over and Alesander released her to applaud, she took the opportunity to flee to the powder room, closing the door behind her and hushing out the sounds of the party. She leaned both hands on the counter and breathed deep. She would have to go back out soon and smile and try to look relaxed, as if she was enjoying herself, but for now, for just a few short moments, she didn’t have to pretend.

She heard the door open and close behind her but didn’t bother looking up. It wasn’t as if she knew anyone. ‘I like your gown.’

Except maybe her.

She opened her eyes. Ezmerelda was standing by the door, watching her. Would it be paranoid of her to think the woman had followed her in here? She tossed up whether or not to apologise, to say she hadn’t known it was her dress when they’d bought it, but that would mean she knew and maybe it was more politic to pretend to know nothing. ‘Thank you. As it happens, I like yours.’

She shrugged the compliment aside. ‘In fact I almost bought one similar to yours recently. Remarkably similar, in fact. Until I decided it was too trashy for such a significant event such as this. It suits you, though.’

Ouch. Mind you, she could hardly blame Ezmerelda being irate after the stunt Alesander had pulled. Not that it meant she’d take this woman’s ire lying down.

‘What a coincidence,’ she replied evenly. ‘I do believe I saw one like yours too. But I decided this one was so much sexier.’

Ezmerelda’s eyes glittered as she swept a path to the counter, digging a lipstick from her purse, touching it to her blood-red lips. ‘I expect Alesander bought it for you?’

Simone smiled at the other woman. Did anyone here not believe it? She shrugged. ‘So what if he did?’

‘You’re sleeping with him then.’ She nodded. ‘I thought as much.’