Free Friends and Lovers Trilogy 02 - Charmed by Beth Ciotta

the rejections or the consequences that went along with making love. She just wanted to … express herself.
    Maybe she
was
crazy. She’d had an extremely long day, performed
two
loonytales. She should be exhausted, yet she felt amazingly energized, almost euphoric. She was acutely aware of the music, the lighting, the non-judgmental atmosphere. She felt free. Free of past regrets. Free of her inhibitions. Free of fear.
    Maybe she was overly tired. That would explain the slight headache and sudden, annoying eye twitch.
    The super-fast dance mix segued into a slow, driving version of a song she’d never heard. Jim abandoned her for Harry, and surrounding men latched onto one another making Lulu feel like an outcast. She lifted a hand to her throbbing temple, feeling slightly disoriented. She needed to find Jean-Pierre and Rudy. She needed to sit this one out.
    She excused herself, bumping into one couple after another, trying to find her way to the edge of the dance floor. That’s when she spotted a dark-haired man coming toward her. He smiled. She smiled back. An automatic reaction, and yet he did look familiar. He was still several feet away when Jean-Pierre caught her eye. He frowned.
    Her head throbbed. She definitely needed to sit this one out.
    The stranger moved closer. No, not a stranger. She’d seen him before. But where?
    Her eye twitched. Her vision blurred. She turned abruptly, panic fluttering in her chest. Jean-Pierre caught her elbow as she hurried by. “What is it,
Chaton?
What is wrong?”
    “Nothing.” She waved him off. “I’m fine, just hot. I’m going to sit this one out.”
    “We’ll come with you,” Rudy said.
    “Don’t be silly.” She massaged her temples and marveled at her dry throat. Hadn’t she just polished off another soda? “I just need a drink of water.”
    “There are three bottles of spring water at our table,” Jean-Pierre said, his eyes soft with concern.
    “Perfect!” She smiled to ease their worry. “Enjoy the dance.” She hurried toward their secluded corner table, only it looked very dark over there. That panicky feeling kicked up a notch. Again her eye twitched, and suddenly a dose of fresh air seemed more inviting than a drink of water.
    She switched directions and slammed into a tower of hard muscle. Strong hands clasped her forearms. Absurdly panicked, she lifted her chin to demand her release. The words stuck in her throat when she locked eyes with Colin Murphy. “What are you doing here?” she squeaked.
    “Dance with me.” He coaxed her back onto the floor.
    Her heart thudded against her ribs as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against the length of him, leaving nothing to her imagination.
Jeez, Louise, Sofie was right.
This man was ripped. Even his muscles had muscles. The kind that came from working hard and eating right. Zero-percent body fat. Enveloped in an aura of raging masculinity, she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Had she passed out from exhaustion and overexertion? Was she dreaming?
    He dropped his mouth close to her ear. “Do you see him?”
    Warm breath fanned her neck, tweaking her already fevered brain. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she breathed in an intoxicating mixture of spicy aftershave and fruity shampoo.
Wow.
“Who?”
    “Whoever scared you.”
    The stranger who wasn’t a stranger.
“I wasn’t scared,” she lied, knowing her fear was unfounded. It’s not like the man had done anything wrong. He’d just smiled. “I was hot,” she said, her throat scratchy and tight. “I wanted some fresh air.”
    “Uh-huh.” Holding her close, he maneuvered her slowly across the floor with an easy grace that melted her bones. “So do you see him?”
    She clasped her hands tightly about his neck for fear her knees would buckle—she felt as boneless as a rag doll—then scanned the crowded room. “No,” she said, surprised at the relief in her voice. What in the world was wrong with her? The man had