‘We simply respect each other’s life-style, Buffy.’
She nodded happily. ‘I like that. James is such a grump about punctuality. He doesn’t make any concessions.’
‘A flaw in paradise?’
‘What?’
‘I mean…everything isn’t rosy in your relationship with James.’
She shrugged. ‘Oh, he’s so high-powered all the time. You must know what he’s like, working for him. Always thinking about what’s got to be done. Pressure, pressure, pressure.’
‘Mmmh…that’s probably what makes him successful.’
‘I guess so.’ Buffy didn’t seem sure that success was worth so much attention. ‘He is good at sex,’ she added as though that was some compensation. Then leaning forward confidentially, ‘I bet Josh is, too.’
‘Mmmh,’ Lucy agreed out of pride.
‘Is he really built?’
‘What?’
Buffy wrinkled her nose. ‘You know. Some guys can have a great-looking physique, but when you get them down to the buff…very disappointing.’
Not knowing how to answer, Lucy blurted out, ‘I take it James isn’t disappointing.’
‘Not in that area. He’s big. And a real pistol. He can go on and on and on,’ Buffy assured her, rolling her eyes appreciatively. ‘What about Josh?’
Lucy took another deep breath, desperate to somehow get this conversation steered onto other ground. As it was, she didn’t know how she was going to control her thoughts once James returned to his chair.
‘Josh has never disappointed me,’ she said truthfully, though the claim had nothing to do with sex. She turned curiously to Buffy. ‘Do you always rate men on how they perform in bed?’
‘Well, it is a big thing, isn’t it?’ Buffy reasoned. ‘After all, it’s what they want us for, so it’s a dumb deal if we don’t get satisfaction.’
‘What about a sense of companionship? Enjoying other things together?’
‘Huh! In my experience, men only put up with what I want to do, to get what’s coming at the end of it. Sex is our bargaining chip, and I, for one, am not going to be a loser.’
Lucy had never thought of the relationship between men and women in such stark trading terms and it set her wondering how true Buffy’s vision was. She didn’t like it. She wanted to believe that one day she might have the best of both worlds, the kind of companionship she shared with Josh, plus the passionate sexual desire she wished she could share with James.
The band started playing again so whatever problem had arisen was apparently resolved. Her gaze fastened on James, striding back towards their table, and before she could stop the downward slide, she found herself staring at the movement of his thighs and thinking of what Buffy had said. Which so appalled her, a tide of heat burned up her neck and scorched her cheeks.
She snatched up her glass of champagne—assiduously re-filled by their waiter whenever the content lowered—and tried to bury her shame in it. Buffy, having also noticed James’ approach, leapt to her feet, skirted Lucy’s chair, and accosted Josh, leaning invitingly over his shoulder.
‘Come dance with me, Josh. I can kidnap you from Lucy for one little dance, can’t it?’ she pressed with a pretty pout at both of them.
‘Now that would be leaving my partner alone,’ Josh chided charmingly.
‘James is coming. He’ll look after her,’ Buffy quickly pointed out. ‘He loves Lucy.’
‘Well, should I or should I not stand in the path of true love?’ he tossed at Lucy, his eyes dancing wickedly.
‘Oh, go on. I’ll manage,’ she urged, wanting Buffy out of her hair before she said something awful in front of James, dragging her into even worse embarrassment.
‘I am commanded,’ Josh said, letting it be known it was not his preference before going off with Buffy, who didn’t care as long as she was getting her own way. Though she was careful to avoid confronting James with her choice, deliberately not crossing paths with him as she led Josh to the dance-floor.
Of course, James noticed. He looked at them, looked at Lucy, and she felt herself bristling at what he probably thought—Buffy snagging the prize and Lucy left sitting like a shag on a rock. She glared defiantly at him as he pursued his own purposeful approach to the table.
His chair was still pushed back, where Buffy had left it, and instead of pulling it forward and sitting down, he stood in the empty space, making his close presence overwhelmingly felt. Lucy sipped some more champagne, doing her utmost to ignore him while every nerve in her body twanged with awareness.
‘I see your partner has gone off with mine,’ he remarked.
‘Yes. Buffy was panting to dance with him so I let him indulge her.’ That should set him back in his tracks, Lucy thought savagely.
‘Will you indulge me?’
Her mind jammed, unable to follow his line of logic. She tried a lofty glance at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’
His mouth curled into a wry smile, but his eyes were simmering with a very personal challenge. ‘Would it be too much of a hardship for you to dance with me?’
Doubt and desire did a violent tango. ‘If this is a courtesy…’
‘It’s not. I want to dance with you.’
Unable to believe it, Lucy expostulated, ‘There’s really no need to feel obliged…’
‘I’ve wanted to dance with you all night,’ he broke in, a note of ferocity in his voice. ‘If you hadn’t been so damned snappy at me, I would have asked you before this. Just say yes or no, Lucy. I’m not going to grovel.’
Grovel? The heat started a rush up her throat again at the reminder of the dominatrix tag. Compelled to deny both the idea he had of her, and the mess she was in at the thought of dancing with him, she pushed back her chair and stood up, driven to affirmative action.
‘Let’s dance,’ she said with as much aplomb as she could muster.
His eyes flared with triumph as though he’d won a battle. He took her arm and tucked it around his, which was totally unnecessary for the short walk to the dance floor. Masterful, possessive…the words skidded wildly through Lucy’s mind. Was Josh right? Had she suddenly become a sexual challenge to her boss?
It was just as well he had taken her arm because her legs turned to water at the thought of James Hancock actually lusting after an opportunity to show her what it would be like sharing a bed with him…all hot and hard and control-shattering, and never in a million years stooping to grovel for anything he wanted.