“I told you,” he said in a voice gravelly with desire.
She dropped his hand like a hot coal and walked over to the counter on wobbly legs. While BeauSoleil belted out the rollicking swamp rocker “Tu Vas Voir,” or “Can’t You See,” she nervously flipped through the half-dozen CDs sitting next to the player. One of them caused her to arch her eyebrows and hold the disk up to Luc for inspection. ‘”One Night With You’? Luther Vandross? You?”
Luc laughed. “Nah. That make-out music belongs to René. He brought a girlfriend here one time last year.”
On an impulse, or perhaps to be perverse, Sylvie pressed the eject button, took out BeauSoleil, and inserted the make-out king. Immediately, a clear, male voice rang out with the love song “Always and Forever.”
“Uh-oh,” Luc said.
“What?” She pivoted on her bare feet and watched him slowly and deliberately fold up the maps on the table, straighten the chairs, turn down the lights, then hold his open arms out to her.
She was the one then who said, “Uh-oh.”
“C’mon, Sylv. You can’t put on that kind of music and not dance.” Luther was now crooning “Endless Love.”
“Have you lost your mind, Luc? Dancing is not a good idea.”
“Yes, I’ve lost my mind. Dancing most definitely is a good idea. And it’s time for some paybacks, darlin’.”
Her head shot up at that last, and her heart skipped a beat, then went into double-time. “Now? You expect to be paid back now?”
“It’s as good a time as any.”
For the first time, it registered with Sylvie that she was alone—truly alone—with Luc. And the sexual tension that had been sizzling between them kicked up a notch. Bam!
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I like to dance, and I love dancing with you.”
“You only danced with me once,” she pointed out, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
“I know.” His face turned suddenly vulnerable as he added, “Didn’t you enjoy dancing with me, Sylv?”
“Of course, I did, and you know it, too.”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” he admitted with a shy grin.
Shy? Shy and Luc LeDeux do not go together.
He beckoned with the fingers of both outstretched hands for her to come closer.
She inched her way slowly, reluctantly, the whole time groaning inwardly. She had given her word to Luc, and she was not a person who went back on her word. But dancing? In a remote cabin? With Luther Vandross music? And Luc? And, oh, my God, in the nude! She did a full-body shiver as she stepped into his arms.
“Are you afraid of me, chère?” he murmured against her hair.
“Yes.” But not half as afraid as I am of myself.
“I’m afraid of you, too,” he confided, and the whisper of his breath against her exposed ear was excruciatingly sensual.
It was either kismet or total coincidence that Luther then swung into the torchy “One Night With You.”
Was that what Luc was hoping for?
Was that what she was hoping for?
Were they both nuts?
They were silent for a while, letting the music seep into their bodies, leading them in the rhythm of the slow dance. Her face rested against his clean-shaven cheek. Her left hand curved around the nape of his neck under his too-long hair. His right arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, aligning her body tantalizingly against his. His left hand held her right pressed up against his heart, which thudded madly.
Not once did Sylvie think of checking his pulse or pulling out her notebook. At some point, without thinking, she had crossed a line. She no longer fought the pull of Luc’s seduction. In truth, she was powerless to resist him now.
“I surrender, chère.” His lips were nuzzling her hair as he spoke in a voice gritty with sex. “I can’t fight these feelings for you anymore.”
Sylvie went immediately alert… or as alert as she could be in her passion-hazy condition. Were their minds really so well attuned? Would their bodies be attuned, too?
No, no, no, she couldn’t think that far ahead.
They weren’t going to make love. They were only dancing.