The Honeymoon That Wasn't

Frowning, Dakota watched until they both sat down. “What was that about?”

“What?”

She fixed him with a pretty intimidating glare. One she’d probably perfected in court. “What did my mother want?”

He grinned and got up, pulling her with him. “She wanted me to dance with you.”

“Right.”

He was lucky. The song was slow. He shouldn’t have too much trouble keeping up. They got to the center of the floor and he guided them to the middle for some privacy. Not much, but better than having her mother’s gaze boring into his back as he slid both his arms around Dakota, his hands resting just above the curve of her sweet little backside. No holding one hand out in the air crap. He wanted to feel her chest pressed against him. Feel her thighs move with his.

She sighed softly, and then tilted her head back to look at him. “Come on. What did she want?”

No way was he getting into this conversation with her. He couldn’t without bad-mouthing her mother, and he wasn’t doing that. “Why isn’t your brother being groomed to be a judge?”

Her lips parted slightly as she hesitated, and if they were anywhere else, he would’ve accepted the invitation. And if she didn’t quit soon…

“Cody is far too mercenary, hardly civil servant material.” She laughed softly and swept a quick glance around. “Oops, did I say that?”

Civil servant? That stopped Tony. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Defense attorneys make more money, huh?”

“Oh, please.” She chuckled and then squinted at him. “Are you kidding?”

He shrugged. “How would I know?”

“Defense attorneys can make oodles of money. Especially defending white-collar clients.” She whispered. “My brother’s favorite kind of criminal.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“I wasn’t referring to the innocent ones.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although they usually end up racking up a lot more legal fees.”

“You’re so cute when you’re being materialistic.”

“Hey.” She lightly pinched his shoulder. “I was being analytical.”

“Oh.” He smiled and brought her closer so that she pressed her cheek against the base of his throat. His lips were touching her forehead. This is where he wanted her. Not leaning away from him analyzing the legal profession.

Besides, the dance floor had gotten more crowded. Good for him. It gave him an excuse to draw her closer. Bad for her in that she could be overheard and, since half the people there were either lawyers, judges or somehow related, she’d be better off zipping it.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she rubbed her cheek against his jaw. His body immediately reacted. If the song suddenly ended and he had to walk back to the table, he’d be screwed.

“Hello, Dakota.”

She lifted her head and smiled at the distinguished-looking older man dancing beside them with a much younger blond woman. “Hi, Judge Hawkins.”

He nodded to Tony and then said to Dakota, “We’re not in the courtroom. I think it would be okay to call me David.”

“That would feel a little too strange.”

He smiled, nodded and they moved apart, but not before the man gave Tony a sizing up.

Tony ignored him. “Is that his wife?”

“Nope. He’s divorced. Three times now.”

“He looks old enough to be her father.”

“Probably is. He likes them young.”

He obviously liked Dakota, but Tony didn’t point that out. The song wound down and he hoped like hell the band would stick to a slow beat. They did and everyone on the dance floor stayed. Several other couples crowded in and damned if they didn’t all seem to know Dakota. Their once-private area was getting to be as bad as Grand Central Station.

When it was announced that it was time to cut the cake, he didn’t even mind. Maybe after that they could get out of here. Even if he and Dakota just rode to the airport together, alone, no parents, no coworkers, and the evening ended there, he’d be okay with that. Not happy, but okay.

Glasses of champagne were passed out while Dallas and Eric got ready to cut the cake. Dallas got a little impatient when the photographer kept trying to reposition them and she dug into the cake with her fingers and offered the piece to Eric. Everyone laughed. Except Mrs. Shea, but that was no surprise.

In Tony’s experience, shortly after the cake was cut the bride and groom usually left the reception. That meant he and Dakota would be leaving, too. He glanced at his watch. No matter, they’d have to leave within half an hour to get to LaGuardia in time for their flight.

An older, distinguished-looking man had intercepted Dakota right before the cake cutting, and Tony scanned the room locating her in time to see her drain a flute of champagne and exchange it for another. She caught his eye and smiled, then raised the glass to him before gulping down half the contents.

What the hell? Was she on some kind of mission to get plastered? Maybe she didn’t like flying? A lot of people didn’t. Better that be the reason than anything personal. He wanted to be with her this weekend, but not if she had to get loaded to be with him.

“We’re going to have to leave soon.” Dallas dabbed at the white frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth. “Where’s Dakota?”

“Over there.”

“Ah, she’s talking to Judge Mayfield and his wife. She shouldn’t be long. We’ll meet at the door in fifteen minutes. Eric is having the limo brought around front.”

“Is she okay?” he asked.

Dallas smiled “Yes. Trust me.”

That’s about all he could do. “I’ll be ready.” His gaze went to Dakota.

She was laughing at something the judge said, her face slightly flushed. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, the honey-colored strands catching the light from the chandelier. The red dress shimmered as she moved, emphasizing the tempting curve of her backside. Yeah, he was ready all right. He had been from the first time he saw her.

“WHO EVER HEARD of a limo without champagne?” Dakota sighed, hiked her dress up to her thighs and then swung her legs up on the seat where she sat opposite Tony. Predictably his gaze went straight to the hem of her dress, and then ran down the length of her legs. “We’ll simply have to have the driver stop for some.” She lifted her fist to knock on the dividing glass, but Tony lunged from his seat and captured her wrist.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” He got up and joined her on her seat, using his hip to nudge her legs aside.

“Excuse me?” She indignantly lifted her chin, and slightly slurred her words then asked, “Do you think I’m drunk?”

He hesitated, exhaling in exasperation, and she had to really struggle to keep a straight face. “Look, we can’t stop. We’ll miss our plane.”

“Plane? What plane?”

He stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m kidding.” She pulled her hem up a little higher and used her pointed toes to trace a path across his back. “Remind me.”