One More Dance Roxanne Rustand (best non fiction books of all time TXT) đź“–
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- Author: Roxanne Rustand
Book online «One More Dance Roxanne Rustand (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📖». Author Roxanne Rustand
But it did, deep down. In class, wearing cast-off clothes and ratty sneakers, she blended in with most of the other students. But here, glittery dresses and sassy little skirts shimmered and teased, while she’d only been able to pull together black linen slacks and a black sweater from her closet, with a sparkly silver scarf at her throat.
Deanna came to a halt and grinned up at her quarry, her expression at once flirtatious and innocent. Apparently the perfect blend for Blondie, because his smile widened as he looked down at her.
They immediately fell into a deep conversation over the upcoming homecoming dance, which gave Kate the perfect chance to escape whatever introduction Deanna had planned. She turned away...and stopped dead.
And stared at quite possibly the most handsome guy she’d ever seen.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, his well-muscled chest straining at the black polo shirt he wore, though he obviously didn’t care much about the impression he made. He wore faded jeans and boots, and he’d slung an old leather jacket over his back, suspended by a hooked finger.
Near-black hair brushed the back of his collar and swept away from his face in deep waves, though one rebellious lock hung over his forehead. From his strong, square jaw and high cheekbones to the thick, dark lashes shading his eyes, he had the arresting sort of face that probably stopped most women in their tracks.
But it wasn’t his sheer appeal that drew Kate’s attention. It was the expression of pure pain in those startling silvery-gray eyes, and that muscle ticking at the side of his jaw.
He was staring down at a surfer-blonde woman whose tall, slender body was wrapped in a slinky red cocktail dress. Kate was too far away to hear, but the blonde was clearly talking rapid-fire, with her hands slammed on her hips and her head held at an angry tilt.
She threw a hand up in a gesture of impatience, spun away from him and stalked to the door with her chin up and sparks flashing in her eyes.
With an aching expression, he watched her disappear through the front door, then he went out the French doors to the walled patio. Kate could see him through the window, standing in the moonlight with his hands jammed in his back pockets.
Could he hear the cruel laughter of a trio of sorority girls who were smirking in his direction?
She’d never been a flirt, and even at twenty-one, Kate usually just managed awkward blushes and inane remarks if a good-looking guy flirted with her, because she’d grown up determined that nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to stand in the way of her future.
Not foolish young boys.
Not reckless behavior in the backseat of some guy’s car.
Not the early single parenthood and lack of education that had ground her mother’s own hopes and dreams to dust.
So Kate had avoided the parties, the silly high school crushes. She’d rarely dated. And in college, she’d maintained a heavy load of classes—even through the summers. She practically lived in the library, working hard to ensure that her grants and scholarships would continue.
But all of that resolve faded as she stared at the broad back and bowed head of the man standing out on the patio. She’d always felt soul-deep empathy for animals in pain and people in trouble, and she had no doubt that this was a person who needed a friend.
“Hey, dudes,” a deep voice growled into a microphone. “One more song and you’re all outta here. Frat rules.”
So there wasn’t much time. Her heart in her throat, her palms clammy and her pulse racing, Kate hesitated, then gathered her courage. She crossed the room and stepped out onto the patio.
“Hey, there,” she said softly.
“Hey.” His voice was low and rich, and sent shivers of awareness dancing across her skin.
He didn’t turn around, so she moved to his side and stared up at the stars, too. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Nope.” His mouth lifted in a faint, wry smile. “I suppose you saw the scene inside.”
“Um...no.” She swallowed hard. “I just thought maybe you’d like to...um, dance. This is the last song of the night.”
She’d always been a terrible liar, and he laughed aloud. “You don’t need to be kind. Hilary picked quite a place to deliver her little message, but I’ll recover.”
“I’m sorry if it wasn’t a good one.”
“It wasn’t.” He lifted a shoulder. “Then again, sometimes it’s better to cut your losses and run—especially if you’ve made a big mistake. And apparently, she figured she had. With me.”
Kate floundered for something intelligent to say, realizing too late that her concern for him had simply made her an unwelcome intruder at a very awkward moment.
“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” He looked down at her, a hint of amusement in his faint smile. “I’m Jared Mathers. And you are...?”
Mathers. The late Senator Ellsworth Mathers’s son? Heat rose into her cheeks as a dizzying blur of headlines flooded her head. There’d certainly been plenty when Jared entered the University of Minnesota Law School last year.
The Mathers were millionaires, many times over. Moved in lofty political circles. Shortly before his death last year, the senator had been considered a top contender for the Democratic presidential candidate.
Her first impression of Jared had been miles off. The old jacket he carried was Dolce & Gabbana; those faded jeans carried an Armani label, she was sure. And if that wasn’t a real Rolex on his wrist, she’d eat the cheap copy she’d bought at a discount store last fall.
No wonder he’d looked amused. She’d pounced on him minutes after the dramatic exit of his girlfriend, looking like a gold digger of the worst kind.
Humiliated, she murmured an awkward excuse and
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