Sunny Chandler's Return Read Free Page B

couldn’t have determined the color of her eyes from across the room, and she pointed out that discrepancy to him. “So why did you want to dance with me?”
    He drew her closer. “As I said, I like the way you eat chocolate-covered strawberries.” Eyes the color of a Scandinavian fjord looked down at her mouth again. “There’s a tiny speck of chocolate in the left corner of your lips.” Instinctively, Sunny made a point of the end of her tongue and searched out the particle. When it dissolved against her tongue, he said, “Got it.”
    Sunny jerked herself out of the momentary trance he had miraculously induced. “I guess George told you everything about me.”
    “Enough. But some things I want to find out for myself.”
    “Like what?”
    “What I want to know about you, Sunny, I don’t think you’d want me to find out here on the dance floor.”
    She squirmed away from him and said frostily, “Thank you for the dance, Mr.—”
    “Beaumont. Ty Beaumont. But you can’t stop dancing now. They’re already into another song.” He swung her into his arms again. When she would have struggled to extricate herself, he said, “Hi, Fran. Hi, Steve. Great party.”
    “Hello, Ty,” they said in unison.
    Sunny gave them a sickly smile as they danced past, then shot her partner a poisonous glance. He had her and he knew it. He wasn’t going to let her go without a fuss, and he knew that she wouldn’t risk making a scene.
    But she’d be damned before she relaxed her body against his, the way his strong arms were dictating that she should. It was disconcerting enough just to be held this close. His thighs were hard as they moved against hers.
    “Back to why I wanted to dance with you,” Ty said conversationally. “I like your golden hair, too.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Bet it looks sexy as hell spread out on a pillow.”
    “You’ll never know.”
    “I’ve already got one bet riding on that. Wanna make one between you and me?”
    “No.”
    “Good. Because you’d lose.”
    “On the contrary, it would be a sure win, Mr. Beaumont. And please remove your hand.”
    “From here?” He pressed the small of her back. There was an explosion of heat in Sunny’s lower body. She almost gasped at the shock of it, but caught herself just in time. She was afraid, however, that she hadn’t concealed her reaction from her partner, who was watching her closely. “Relax,” he told her.
    “Forget it.”
    “I don’t mean to be insulting.”
    “Don’t you?”
    “No. I just admire your figure.”
    “Well, if you must, please admire it from afar.”
    “I’d be the first one to jump to your defense if any other man held you this close. But since we’re going to be intimate, I—”
    “We are
not
going to be intimate.”
    He smiled knowingly.
    Sunny’s stiff smile was strictly for the benefit of all the Mrs. Morrises crowding the room. She was not only annoyed but afraid. Ty Beaumont transmitted a masculine, animalistic vitality that beckoned to every female of the species. Sunny, for all her imperviousness where men were concerned, was still a female. Apparently she wasn’t as immune to pure sexual magnetism as she had thought. To keep herself from responding to it, it was mandatory to direct the conversation into safer channels.
    “When did you move to Latham Green, Mr. Beaumont?”
    “Make it Ty. Let’s see,” he said, wrinkling his forehead in concentration, “about three years ago. Guess we just missed each other.”
    Sunny reasoned that George had told him when she had moved away. Before she could ask if George had told him the circumstances of her leaving he said, “In a room full of polyester, your silk really stands out.”
    He rubbed his hand over her back. Reflexively she arched it. A wrong move. Because it caused her breasts to flatten against the solidity of his chest. The blue eyes grew dark and intense. Sunny sucked in her breath sharply.
    “What do you do for a living?” she asked