Eclipse of the Heart - By Carly Carson Page 0,27

when she nodded.

"Mmmm," he said, "you smell good."

"Thanks," she muttered. He shouldn't be making personal comments. But now he was threading them through the crowd, his firm arm around her making her feel secure in a totally inappropriate way.

Angry with her own response, more than with him, she issued a low-voiced warning. "You should remove your arm."

His fingers tightened a bit. "I don't want all these men to think you're available."

"I am available."

"Not tonight."

She couldn't respond since a beautiful couple was hailing Logan.

One warning squeeze and then Logan was introducing her to the tall, fair-haired man, who turned out to be his roommate from college. David and his equally fair wife, June, looked at Amanda with bright curiosity. "I'm so pleased to meet you," June said with a smile. "We never see Logan with a date."

"I'm not exactly—"

"June," Logan broke in. "Amanda is new to this group. Please help her feel comfortable."

"Of course." June drew her to the side as the men headed for one of the bars. "How do you know Logan?"

"We work together."

"You do?" June's blue eyes widened. "I never would have expected Logan to date someone who works for him."

"We're not dating." Amanda had to make it clear. Who knows, maybe she really could meet someone interesting here. But no one would approach her if they thought she was on a date.

"Okay." June didn't try to hide her skepticism. "But don't tell Logan that." She winked at Amanda as the two men approached with champagne for everyone.

Amanda took one of the delicate flutes, but resolved to sip very slowly. Even though the champagne was delicious, bright and sparkly, she couldn't afford to get tipsy. Luckily, they moved soon into the large reception room where the vows were being said. She was able to leave the champagne behind.

The ceremony was short, but beautiful. The auburn-haired bride wore a stunningly simple, cream gown, and the groom looked almost as handsome as Logan in his black tux. Amanda had to suppress a slight pang of envy toward a couple who seemed to have everything. But she was able to sincerely wish them well in the reception line, and then she and Logan, still in the company of David and June, moved into a grand ballroom lined with tables for dinner. A dozen musicians were playing there, and a large crowd was dancing and enjoying the fast rock beat and the smoky-voiced singer.

"We're at table two," David announced. "I'm sure you are as well."

Once they found their seats, David and June excused themselves. "Got to do my duty on the dance floor," David joked.

"Let's join them." Logan held out a hand.

"We really shouldn't dance. You're my boss."

"Not tonight." He swept her into his arms. "We're going to dance."

She wanted to argue. She knew she should argue. But she loved to dance, and his arms possessed a magic she was helpless to resist.

Within minutes, she knew that Logan was an excellent dancer. No matter what she did, even if she missed a step, he was there. Catching here, twirling her in dizzying circles, pulling her close when the movement allowed.

His expertise made them conspicuous, and people were watching. The band played all kinds of popular tunes, and the crowd jumped and gyrated, often in time to the music, often randomly. But Logan managed to find the beat in every song.

"Rumba?" he'd ask, smiling down at her and she'd move into his arms, each time with a little more comfort.

"Salsa?"

She could do the basics, courtesy of a ballroom dance class she'd taken in college to fulfill the gym requirement. But she wished she could stop and merely watch him. His hips mesmerized her, gyrating to the music while his upper body held a still frame perfectly, so that he didn't thrash about as so many men did when dancing.

"You like to dance?" he asked when the band stopped for a moment.

"Love it."

And never more so than tonight. She didn't know if she'd ever danced to such a good live band. Of course, she knew that was money talking, but she might as well enjoy it. She'd definitely never had such an accomplished partner.

"Where'd you learn to dance so well?" she asked. "Doesn't really go with the corporate image."

"I have a good sense of rhythm." He began to move as the band started a new song.

"Someone taught you the steps." His refusal to answer personal questions was so frustrating.

"Girlfriend," he said briefly, his tone discouraging further questions. "A long time ago."

"Of course." She stepped