“No, I was thinking I could get you tipsy.”
“I think I’m already there.” She giggled and took another drink.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “It’d be my honor to escort your cute, tipsy ass upstairs when tonight is over.”
Smiling, Veronica twisted her hips around. “My ass is only cute because of the dress. It flatters my problem areas.”
“I doubt that very much.” Logan tipped the bartender and took his drink. “Your figure’s perfect.”
“Oh, you’re good.” Veronica laughed, her smile lighting her whole face. “Now if I could only find a man who agrees with you.” Her gaze met his. “One who isn’t afraid of commitment. Seen any of those around here?”
“There aren’t many of those left in the wild, I’m afraid.” As the music softened to “Lady in Red,” Logan took a solid drink of his beer. The jealousy he felt minutes earlier dissipated, leaving a foreign feeling of tingly warmth stirring in his chest. He needed Veronica in his arms, tucked safely against him. “Do you dance, Miss Vale?”
She shook her head and licked the sugared rim of her glass. “Not while I’m working.”
“But you drink?” Logan’s legs went limp as he watched her tongue pull the sugar crystals back into her mouth.
“Heather and Leah are always telling me to loosen up, and it’ll be another hour before we have to start packing up the gifts. One drink won’t hurt.”
“Come on, dance with me,” he said. “I can call you Veronica if that makes you feel like you’re off the clock.”
She chugged her drink and then shrugged. “You know what, why the hell not?”
Chapter Eleven
Logan guided Veronica to the dance floor and then tugged her into his arms. She was warm to the touch, and fit into his body perfectly. They were heart to heart, and when Logan realized he could feel her heartbeat against his skin, he almost pulled away.
But he couldn’t force himself to do it.
“Why are you a commitment-phobe, Logan?” she asked, gazing over his shoulder. “Were you married before?”
“No, but my mother is a serial bride. At least she was when I knew her.” He fought to keep his hand still on her lower back. He longed to let it rest on her ass, or slide it up and tangle his fingers in her hair. “Each time she got married, she seemed happier at the wedding, and blindsided when they divorced. It was all a show. One big show for friends and family.”
Dancing in a slow rhythm, Logan spun Veronica around, and couldn’t help but notice the couples who looked genuinely happy. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be as happy as they pretended to be.
Veronica adjusted her arm over his shoulder to hold him tighter. Did she even realize it? Did she feel the same pull to him that he did to her?
“Some weddings are a show, yes,” she said, “but others are a true declaration of undying love. Maybe your mother hadn’t found the right person.”
“Most of the time there is no right person.” The words slipped out. “Just cardboard cutouts that people place beside themselves so they won’t feel lonely in their own skin.”
“Wow…you really think that?” She looked at him, piercing him with those big doe eyes. “You think the bride and groom at this wedding are lonely?”
His steps slowed. “They’re afraid to be alone. That’s exactly why I won’t ever get married. I’m not afraid of being alone…in fact, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone. I’d go nuts.”
Especially someone who would spend every spare second telling him how much she hated wolves. Fate had a whacked sense of humor.
“If you think that, then I’m sure your wish will come true.” Veronica’s hand drifted to the back of his neck. Chills gathered at the base of his skull as her fingers traced the edge of his hairline. “If there’s any fear, it’s not for being lonely. It’s fear of being vulnerable. Today is the day when they pledged their life to another. I think this is the day when this couple will love each other the most and— ”
“That’s bull,” Logan said, his feet going still. He gazed deep into Veronica’s eyes, unable to shake the feeling that she was pulling him in. “Their wedding day is the day they should love each other the least. Their love should build from here, not fade.”
Her lips parted, and her brown eyes sparkled.
Veronica rose up and caught his mouth, startling him. Her lips brushed his, a silky caress that forced Logan’s eyes to roll back and his hand to skate up her back. She shuddered beneath his touch, her body bending into his. His chest constricted as she breathed into the kiss, giving a little sigh of pleasure against his lips.
The song ended. Their kiss broke.
“What was that for?” he asked, keeping his mouth lowered over hers. He could still taste her, feel her. He wanted more.
“For caring, even if you pretend you don’t.” She stamped another kiss on his mouth. This one was soft and plush, tugging something in his middle. “Thank you for helping me set up the ballroom this afternoon.”
Before she could say something to ruin the moment, Logan grabbed Veronica by the hand and led her out of the ballroom and down the hall.
…
“Where are you taking me?” Veronica could barely keep up with Logan. He was pulling her by the arm, past the lobby and into an elevator, right as the doors opened. “Logan, slow down.”
“I can’t.”
He tugged her in behind him. Spun around and pinned her against the elevator wall. He didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to close. His hands were on either side of her head. The thick length of his thigh was pressed between her legs, spreading them apart. He was leaning over her and breathing hard. Splaying her hands against the glossy wall, Veronica gazed up into his steel-gray eyes. He was barely hanging on to a thread of control. Barely restraining himself from doing…what, exactly?
“I can’t slow down,” he said, almost to himself as the doors hissed shut. “Why can’t I slow down with you?”
He punched a floor number and they were off.
“If that’s what you really want, you could start by removing your leg from between my thighs.”
Logan sucked in a clipped breath, then lowered his mouth over hers. “If you say the word thigh again, you may break me.”
Smiling, she whispered, “Pussy willow.”
He crushed his mouth to hers, sending her stomach whirling. His tongue penetrated her mouth, exploring deep and wide with urgent strokes. His kiss tasted of possession. Of claiming. Veronica leaned back, her heart fluttering as Logan tunneled his fingers through her hair.
“You should wear your hair down more often,” he said against her lips. “It’s sexy as hell. I’ve been wanting to run my fingers through it all night.”
She kissed him again. Deeper. He smelled so good. Masculine and fresh. His hands skimmed up her back, and when he reached her hair, he pulled, arching her into him. He groaned and deepened the kiss, slanting his lips over hers.
Their mouths parted abruptly. Veronica reached out for him, but he took a step back and slammed a fist against the stop button. As Veronica held on to the rails for dear life, a laugh bubbled out of her. The elevator jerked to a halt and jiggled a bit on its wires. The lights dimmed, giving off an amber glow that illuminated the strong angles of Logan’s face. Seizing the camera in the corner of the elevator with one hand, Logan ripped cords from its base with the other. He tossed the wires to the floor and came at her again.
He roped his arms around her waist and kissed her. There was no gentleness, no slowing down. His tongue was eager, searching the deep, wet recesses of her mouth. Stomach somersaulting, Veronica matched him stroke for stroke, and moaned as her heart clenched with a thud. She clawed the wide breadth of his shoulders and trailed her hands down his back.