Wedding Favors by Sheri Whitefeather Page B

surrender to his powerful will. And she had. Willingly. Eagerly. No wonder she’d begun to surrender her heart to him, as well. The man had a voodoo all his own.
    The one time she’d met a man who knew how to take command of her and sweep her off her feet in every possible way, he’d turned out like all the rest. Damn.
    “Shall we dance, cher ?” he murmured in her ear.
    Though, to be fair, he was thrillingly persistent.
    He’d driven her the few blocks to the reception in his—get this— Lamborghini, and she hadn’t trusted herself to say a word to him. They were now standing silently at the side of the dance floor watching the bridal couple take one last spin before inviting the rest of the crowd to join them. Shay was directly behind her, his body pressed intimately into hers, his arms looped casually around her middle. She was about to disintegrate from confusion.
    “What do you want from me, Shay?” she asked. “I’m not going to sell myself to you today—or ever—if that’s what you’re after.”
    “Hell, no. I won’t make that mistake again.”
    She ground her teeth.
    “What I meant was,” he backpedaled, apparently feeling her back stiffen, “I won’t make the mistake of trying to buy your favors.”
    Good save. But ... “Nice try. Except you distanced yourself from me even before the money was mentioned.” It had been her first clue to his perspective on their affair.
    His arms tightened slightly around her. “Yeah. And I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” He glanced at the dance floor. “Vien.”
    He led her out among the dancers, and she didn’t have the strength to protest. Naturally, it was a slow number. She went reluctantly into his arms, doing her best to ignore how incredibly right it felt to be there. She really had it bad.
    “I’ll admit,” he continued as they began to move, “I was pretty freaked out by the whole fountain incident. Not sure what happened there. I kinda lost it for a few minutes.”
    In spite of herself, she gave him a faint smile. “You think?” To be honest, he hadn’t been the only one.
    “I don’t believe in voodoo. I honestly don’t,” he assured her.
    “Then what was that virgin sacrifice all about?” she asked dryly.
    He pulled back and grinned. “Hardly a virgin by that time, cher.”
    “Ha-ha.”
    He led her in a twirl. “Anyway. As I said, I sort of lost track of myself. Definitely not something that’s in my normal repertoire. But whatever that sacrifice was all about, it seems to have worked.”
    “Oh?” A tingle of foreboding spilled through her.
    “This morning I received some good news about a project my family has been trying to get off the ground for fifteen years. A courtyard restaurant next door to the maison. Fifteen years of rejections and stalling by the Historical Society, and suddenly, just hours after we made our wish, or broke that damn curse, or whatever the hell we did, I get the green light. A weird coincidence, non?”
    Oh, dear . Was there such a thing as a coincidence?
    She felt her ears going warm as her own wish echoed through her mind. Please, let the pleasure go on forever!
    She was so screwed.
    She choked on her bad choice of inner laments.
    “What?” he asked at her pained expression.
    “Yes, I agree,” she recovered. “Very strange. But that has nothing to do with you and me. I’m still not interested in repeating last night.”
    He captured her eyes as he pulled her closer. “Liar,” he said, then bent to nuzzle his nose against her neck. “I can smell it on your skin—your desire for me.” He traced a path upward, to her ear, and whispered, “If I slid my hand into your panties, they’d be drenched, wouldn’t they?”
    She didn’t dare deny it. He’d probably just insist on proving he was right.
    Thank God the song ended, and she almost flew backward out of his arms. She backed straight into Laura, who cheerfully looped her arm through hers and said to Shay, “Is it okay if I