Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(80)

She returned her attention to the woman. “Now, which of the festivals is closest to the grape harvest?”

And as easily as that, they were talking about wine and grapes and tourists. The pressure to get Simon to stay, forgotten.

“You’re very good,” he told her, when they escaped yet another determined citizen.

“The art of distraction. I’ve been practicing.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m a full-service girlfriend. You might have noticed.”

Girlfriend. It wasn’t a word he used in the context of any relationship he’d ever had, but she was right.

He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.

A waiter passed carrying a tray of champagne. Simon collected a glass for each of them.

They were in the ballroom of the hotel up on the mountain. It was an elegant resort designed with comfort in mind. Chandeliers glittered overhead. A small band played in a corner and the sound of conversation competed with the music. French doors led out onto a patio. Beyond that was an acre or so of grass before the mountains rose toward the sky.

He returned his attention to Montana. As always, he wanted her. He couldn’t be in the same room with her and not desire her. But more than that, he enjoyed her company. She was both arousing and comforting. A delicious contradiction.

The music shifted to something slow and sexy.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t strike me as the dancing type.”

“I’m not. But I’d like to dance with you.” He took the glass from her hand and set it on a small table, then led the way to the dance floor at the far end of the ballroom.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked. “Do you want me to lead?”

He took her in his arms and led her through a series of complicated steps. She followed easily.

“Wow,” she said.

“When I was in the hospital, several of the nurses would dance with me. It was an easy way to get exercise. They swore one day I would find the girl I wanted to dance with. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen.”

He’d never told anyone about that before, had never had any reason to use his waltzing skills.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” he said. “What’s your excuse?”

“Mom made us take lessons. Just the girls. It was very sexist of her.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“You didn’t have three brothers making fun of you.”

“I’m confident you and your sisters were able to handle them.”

“We were, but that’s not the point.”

He bent his head and kissed her cheek then kissed her jaw. He moved his mouth against the side of her neck, across her shoulder. Her skin was warm and smelled like some exotic flower. He felt her body pressing against his and knew there was something to be said for dancing, after all. “What is the point?” he asked, referring to her previous statement.

She blinked at him. “I have no idea what we were talking about.”

He laughed. “I like that you’re easy.”

“I’m actually not. Or I guess I am, but only around you.”

He stopped dancing and looked into her eyes. “It’s the same for me, too.”

Someone bumped into them. Simon pulled her against him and began dancing again.

They danced to several more songs, drank champagne and tasted the hors d’oeuvres. He debated bond measures for local schools with the town treasurer and discussed jail versus community service with the police chief. When Montana excused herself to use the restroom, he was deep in conversation with the mayor.

“Kent and I were wondering if we could borrow the good doctor.”

Simon found himself between Kent and Ethan Hendrix.

“Of course,” Mayor Marsha said and walked away.

“Having a good time?” Ethan asked, leading Simon out the French doors and onto the lawn.

There were fewer people here. The sun had set and the stars had come out, but he didn’t think they had left the ballroom to look at the view.

“How can I help you?”

Ethan and Kent exchanged a look.

“We want to talk about Montana. At the risk of sounding like a cowboy in an old Western, what are your intentions?”

Montana was in her late twenties, had lived on her own for years and would probably shriek if she knew what her brothers were asking. But Simon got the point. These men cared about her and wanted to make sure she was taken care of.

“I’m not discussing my personal life with you.”

“Sure you are. Montana says you’re one of the good guys. Don’t make her a liar.” The dramatic statement was tempered by Ethan’s obvious sincerity.

But there were no bad guys here. He was leaving. Simon’s stay had always been temporary. He was no threat, nor was he a permanent fixture in their sister’s life.

He’d made it clear that he was leaving, hadn’t he? Still, when she called herself his girlfriend, he’d let her. And he’d been pleased. He’d mentioned he might come back to visit. Was she thinking he meant more than that?

He’d screwed up, he realized. He’d misled her in the most fundamental of ways and never realized it until now.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past them and returning to the ballroom.