Read Online Dance with the Devil by Cherry Adair - Free Book Online Page A

damn. Now, for these few quiet, precious moments, he could hold her in his arms. Could inhale the subtle orange blossom scent of her hair, and delight again at the feel of her soft silky hair brushing his chin.
    Had she believed him when he’d told her about his real past? Was that dirt-poor screwup someone she could love? And more important, if she could, would she choose to stay? It was a risk he’d been loathe to take the first time around. But this was his last chance to catch the gold ring.
    In a few minutes he’d check the all important disk, and then he and Mia would straighten themselves up and go downstairs. They’d have a pleasant dinner, a little dancing, and then he’d take her home. Home to his place. His stomach clenched at the thought of convincing Mia that he truly had been that foster kid before becoming the Jack Ryan she thought she knew. He’d given her a little of the information on the phone when he was pretending to be Davis Sloan—and she’d changed the subject. Jack was tempted—No. He wouldn’t lie to her. Not this time.
    He’d filled his bedroom with dozens and dozens of the pale yellow roses Mia loved, and had placed groupings of slender white candles around the room. A bottle of her favorite French chardonnay was chilling on ice, and he’d stocked up on chocolate-covered strawberries, hideously expensive and out of season, but one of Mia’s favorites. She’d bitch about the expense, but she’d be happy, too.
    Jack appreciated the finer things in life. Contrary to his bio, nothing had been handed to him on a plate. He’d had to work hard for what he had. Had to struggle to maintain the lifestyle while he clawed his way to the top of the financial heap. Money was to be spent, and he did. He wasn’t going to apologize for enjoying the finer things in life. And he didn’t have to divulge his real background if he didn’t need to. That part of his life had been buried. Obliterated. Thanks to Uncle Sam. And penny-pinching Mia, who had often gotten on his case at the way he’d spent his money, would’ve felt a whole lot different if he’d ever admitted that he’d been even poor as a kid. But he hadn’t wanted her pity.
    There’d never been any reason for him to dig up the corpse of who he’d once been.
    Until now.
    He glanced at his watch. Barely nine. They’d be home, hopefully in bed, by eleven.
    The small closet was warm, redolent with their lovemaking. He’d never forget this moment. They were on the cusp of something big. Something wonderful.
    It was almost a shock to hear someone speaking not three feet from where he and Mia stood.
    â€œCan’t we hang around longer?” Don Juan asked in a sulky voice as he came out of the other closet pulling on one of his host’s shirts.
    â€œ No. Hurry up, for heaven’s sake! My husband thinks I went out for a smoke!”
    â€œWe sure were smokin’, weren’t we, baby?” He slung a cocky arm around the woman’s shoulders.
    Before he could dive in for another kiss, she shoved him away. “You forget yourself.” She finished buttoning her dress and turned to fix her hair in the mirror over the dressing table. “Go down and warm up the car,” she told him without turning around. “I’m ready to leave now.”
    â€œWill I see you later?”
    â€œYes. You’ll be driving me and my husband home. Other than that, I’ll let you know when it’s convenient.” She walked over to the window and pulled aside the heavy velvet drape. “Damn. It’s started to snow. Go down now. I’ll follow in a few minutes.”
    Jack tracked the guy across the room, watched him unlock the door, then open and close it. One down, one to go.
    â€œLunkhead,” the woman said in a fond voice as she straightened the bedspread, then fluffed the pillows. With one last tweak to the dust-skirt,