Free A Special Kind of Woman by Caroline Anderson Page B

really are so talented. I can’t believe how lucky we are to have you.’
    ‘Aren’t we?’ Owen said, coming up behind her.’ Cait, allow me to introduce you to Ryan and Ginny O’Connor. By the sound of it you’ve met Ginny before, and Ryan’s someone I hope you’ll never meet professionally—he’s one of our A and E consultants.’
    ‘Ah! Right. Hi, there,’ she said, laughing softly at Owen’s introduction and shaking Ryan’s hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you. I hardly ever get to meet the husbands.’
    ‘They’re cheated,’ he said gallantly in a soft Canadian burr, and he winked at her. ‘I shall have to make a point of coming along for fittings in future.’
    ‘If you’re allowed,’ Ginny retorted. ‘It’s a girly thing, usually, isn’t it, Cait?’
    ‘Only because men get bored to death. They just don’t have our stamina.’
    ‘You can say that again,’ Ryan groaned. He slid an arm round his wife’s waist and drew her closer. ‘How about that dance you promised me?’ he murmured, and Ginny smiled at Cait and Owen and excused herself, and they went off towards the dance floor.
    Cait’s eyes followed them longingly. She’d never danced anywhere except at a nightclub or a disco, and that only a very few times in her life. Certainly she’d never danced in a long, floaty dress with a man’s arms around her as he whirled her round the floor.
    ‘Sounds like a good idea.’ Owen’s voice was soft, his breath teasing her skin. He was still standing slightly behind her, and his hands came up and cupped her shoulders, bringing a shiver of anticipation to her skin. ‘What do you think?’
    ‘I think it sounds like a lovely idea,’ she said a trifle breathlessly, and turned towards him. ‘Could we?’
    Heavens, was she really as wistful as she sounded? Owen’s eyes creased in a smile. ‘I’m sure we could.’ He cupped her elbow with his hand and led her to the dance floor, then turned her into his arms.
    ‘I don’t think I can remember any of the fancy things,’ she told him, and he chuckled.
    ‘I never knew them. Just relax. I won’t know if you do it wrong, and if you’re very careful I probably won’t tread on you more than a few times.’
    He didn’t tread on her at all, and Cait was sure he was lying about not knowing the steps. She didn’t care. She just rested one hand on his shoulder, placed her other hand in his and let him guide her. At first he kept a discreet distance between them, but gradually they settled closer together, until her head was on his shoulder and their clasped hands were tucked in against their bodies, so that the back of his hand brushed her breast.
    She could feel the shift of his thighs against hers as they moved slowly to the music, and after a while her steadily building awareness threatened to consume her. To an outsider they would have appeared just like any other couple dancing, she thought, and yet she could feel the tension humming in him, the savagely suppressed passion simmering just below the surface, like a banked furnace.
    Finally the master of ceremonies called the last dance, and she could feel the tension in him mounting to unbearable levels. Then the music swirled to a halt with a flourish, the band were sent off to thunderous applause and Owen eased away from her and looked down into her eyes.
    ‘Time to go,’ he said gruffly, and she could see the desire burning in his eyes.
    They were silent in the taxi, and when they arrived back at the house he put the dogs out, then filled the kettle and put it on the Aga.
    ‘Coffee?’ he asked, and Cait lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug.
    ‘If you want.’
    Their eyes met and locked. ‘You know what I want,’ he said, his voice low and taut with emotion.
    She smiled a little unsteadily. ‘So what are you waiting for, Owen?’ she murmured.
    He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again, and she almost staggered under the force of the need that blazed from them. ‘Dogs,’