Whichdefinitelymade her not his type.
Intrigued despite himself, Valentino was not above using traditional marriage customs like a bridal waltz to his advantage. Approaching her, he held out his hand. ‘I believe it’s our turn.’
Valentino smiled at the little frown that knitted Peyton’s caramel brows together and crinkled her forehead. He half expected her to wrinkle her nose, but he could see in the swirling silvery mists of her eyes that a tug-of-war was going on. Like she actually reallywantedto take his hand. That she was tempted.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Sighing dramatically, like he was asking her to undertake some forty-yearordealinstead of passing a pleasant few minutes on the dance floor, she stood. Yep, it was official – Peyton Donald was hard on the ego.
Unluckily for her, Valentino’s ego was exceptionally healthy. Over-inflated was the word Alessandro had recently used.
She ignored his hand as she headed towards the dance floor and Valentino grinned at her resigned martyrdom. But if she thought for a moment that he hadn’t seen the battle in those large grey eyes, she was utterly deluded.
He followed her to the floor, his gaze glued to the elegant length of her naked spine and the knot of the halter neck that sat temptingly at her nape. What would happen if he pulled on that knot?
Would the dress just slither right off?
With the other bridal party members already on the floor doing their duty, she, rather stiffly, let him shepherd her into the circle of his arms and Valentino wasted no time getting comfortable. He slid his hand low on her back, just above her butt and just this side of decent, her quick, sharp intake ofbreath satisfying on levels he didn’t know existed, as was the prickle of goose bumps against his palm.
‘Relax,’ he murmured against her temple, feeling her resistance as he tried to pull her a little closer.
Jerking her head back, she shot him a look that would have turned any other guy to stone. ‘Let’s just get through this, okay?’
Valentino chuckled at her stubborn refusal to give him an inch. Another factor he was finding surprisingly appealing. In his thirty-seven years of life, he’d never had to work for the attention of a woman – ever. From his mother to his sisters and female cousins, to the girls at school and the women he’d had in his bed, he’dneverhad to try too hard.
He was starting to realise how boring, how predictable, his life had been.
They moved to the music even though Valentino barely heard it as his senses infused with her fresh scent. Something light and floral in her hair. Frangipani, maybe? But a spicier note wafted from her throat. Chilli and rich dark chocolate, and it took all of his willpower not to nuzzle and inhale it deep into his lungs.
A small clearing of the throat was followed by a polite question. ‘So, Valentino… Nat tells me you’re a cochlear implant surgeon.’
Valentino smiled at her robotic question, glancing into grey eyes that were averted to a point beyond his shoulder. That she could see over his shoulder was another first. Most women he’d dated, apart from Adrianna, had been shorter. At six feet two, he still had a few inches on Peyton but the fact that it would take just a tantalising tilt of her chin to have her lips on his was an intriguing proposition.
‘Yes,Peyton,’he replied, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. ‘Alessandro tells me you have a daughter who needs one?’
She mis-stepped then, her body bumping into his, and Valentino’s hand tightened in the small of her back as she clutched at his shirt. He expected her to step back immediately but, for long beats, she lingered, her face pressed to his chest, and Valentino’s blood rose sharply, thickening to lava.
Every muscle in his body cinched tight.
Then she eased back, pushing away with her hand and holding herself as erect as possible, putting as much space between them as she could. Unfortunately, with the dance floor filling they were only jostled closer together, hampering her attempts at distance.
‘That’s correct,’ she said, her hand slipping away as if touch was a bigger issue now than proximity. ‘She’s scheduled for two months’ time.’
‘She’s one of Harry’s patients?’
An almost immediate lightening of her features stopped the breath in Valentino’s throat. The difference was startling as she said, ‘Yes. Do you know him?’ She didn’t wait for him to answer. ‘You must. He’s a pioneer in the field.’
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘Everyone knows Harry.’ In fact, it had been Valentino’s very great pleasure to finally meet the man a couple of months back during an interview.
She nodded. ‘I’m so lucky to not only have him as McKenzie’s surgeon but to also work for him. He’s absolutely gifted at what he does. So clever and such a fair boss. And great with his patients. He insists everyone in the audiology department knows how to sign so the patients are at ease.’
Valentino watched, fascinated, as she came alive.Animated.Her face glowed, her frame relaxed, her grey eyes turning sparkly like fire flies in mist. If this was how excited she got talking about a nearly seventy-year-old surgeon who was old enough to be her grandfather, what would she look like excited in other ways?
Say, in the throes of an orgasm he’d just wrung from her body?
His hand tightened against her spine, inching her unresisting body closer as she chatted away, resting comfortably in his arms. So comfortable, in fact, she apparently didn’t notice that the song had ended and another had begun. Or that they were now so close their bodies rubbed deliciously as they swayed to the tempo.
Valentino, on the other hand, had noticed. In fact, he could barely register anything else as his body responded to the subtle friction of her dress against the fabric of his trousers, and the waft of frangipani and woman lit a fire in his groin.
