A Ring For Christmas: A Bride by Christmas / Christmas Lullaby / Mistletoe Manoeuvres

Nodding in satisfaction that she was so far doing a dandy job of keeping a safe distance between herself and Luke, Maggie opened the door and walked out into the hallway beyond.

And walked smack-dab into the solid, unmoving body of Luke St. John.

Chapter Four

Maggie gasped and staggered slightly, causing Luke to grip her upper arms to steady her.

“Well,” he said, not releasing his hold on her, “fancy meeting you here, Maggie.”

“Luke,” she said, looking quickly to each side, “you can’t hang around outside the women’s restroom. It’s not…couth, not nice at all. Your mother would be mortified.”

“My mother isn’t here,” he said, frowning. “You are. Ever since the music began you’ve been bouncing around the room out there like a Ping-Pong ball. I have the distinct impression that you don’t intend to keep your promise to dance with me. Talk about mortifying a mother. How would yours feel if she knew her daughter hadn’t kept her word?”

Maggie opened her mouth to say something in her defense, only to realize she was guilty as charged.

“How about,” she said, narrowing her eyes in concentration, “I had details, details, details to check on?”

“Nope,” Luke said. “Everything is going like a finetuned machine. I’m betting that there’s nothing left to check on.”

“Oh.” Maggie paused. “Well, then, try this. I needed to freshen my lipstick, like all the others in the powder room are doing.”

“I might buy that,” Luke said, nodding, “except where is your tube of lipstick? No purse, no lipstick.”

“Oh.”

“Maggie,” Luke said, his voice gentling, “don’t you want to dance with me?”

“Yes, I do. It’s just that I—”

“Good. That’s settled then.” Luke released her arms and grasped one of her hands with one of his. “Let’s go.”

“But…”

The door to the powder room opened and three young women emerged, stopping before they bumped into Luke and Maggie.

“Well, Luke St. John,” one of the women said, smiling coyly, “what on earth are you doing skulking around outside our private little place? Are you lost, gorgeous man?”

“Not at all,” Luke said, tightening his hold on Maggie’s hand as she tried to pull free. “I just came to collect my partner for the next waltz. I thought it would be extremely polite on my part to escort her to the dance floor.”

“Well, isn’t that just the sweetest thing?” one of the other women said.

“That’s the way I see it,” Luke said. “Come along, Maggie.”

“You’re a lucky girl, Maggie,” the third woman said with a wistful sigh. “I’ve been trying to get Luke to collect me for all kinds of things for years and nothing has worked. What do you know that I don’t?”

“I have no idea,” Maggie said wearily.

“Enjoy your evening, ladies,” Luke said, starting down the hallway with Maggie in tow.

Just as Maggie and Luke reentered the main room, a song ended and the band paused, then began to play a slow, dreamy waltz.

“Perfect,” Luke said, smiling as he led Maggie onto the crowded, gleaming floor.

And then Maggie was in Luke’s embrace, swaying to the music as though they had spent a lifetime dancing together. He nestled her close to his body and she totally ignored the naggy little voice in her mind that was telling her she was in a danger zone, should move backward, keep space between them.

“Mmm,” Luke said, “you smell so nice. What kind of perfume is that?”

“Soap,” Maggie said.

Luke chuckled and the sexy sound caused Maggie to shiver.

“Are you cold?” Luke said, pulling her even closer.

Maggie’s breasts were crushed to the hard wall of Luke’s chest in a sweet pain that made her acutely aware of her femininity in contrast to his blatant maleness. Heat swirled within her, finally pulsing low in her body.

“No. I’m…I’m definitely not cold.”

“You feel so good in my arms, Maggie. Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“Well…” Maggie started, then for the life of her couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say.

And the music played on.

The crowd surrounding them disappeared, along with the buzz of conversation from those on the sidelines who weren’t dancing. The room itself no longer existed. It was just the two of them and the music, encased in a sensual mist.

Ah, Maggie, Luke thought. He wanted this dance to last forever. Holding Maggie in his arms was heaven in its purest form. She fit against him as though she’d been custom-made. Well, that was actually true. Yes, custom-made just for him because she was his other half, and he loved her with an intensity that was beyond description.

They were dancing like Cinderella and the prince at the ball, Luke mentally rambled on. But in that fairy tale it all fell apart at the stroke of midnight. That poor slob of a prince was left with empty arms and an aching heart, wondering if he’d ever see his newfound love again.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen to Luke St. John, damn it. No way. Because he was going to come up with a rock-solid plan that would enable him to see Maggie on a regular basis without running the risk of her turning him down.

But how in hell was he going to do that?

Where was this genius-level plan going to come from? He’d searched his brain for it until he was exhausted, and it wasn’t there, he’d come up empty.

Think, St. John. His entire future happiness depended on that unknown plan.

The song ended.

No, Luke thought frantically. Not yet.

“Luke?” Maggie looked up at him as they stopped moving, realizing that he had not relinquished his hold on her one iota.

“Yes?”

“Could we dance to just one more song?”

“Yes,” he said. They would dance to a lifetime of songs played just for them. “It will be my pleasure.”