With a horrified look on Thea’s face, Felix took her other hand and squeezed them in what he hoped she’d find a reassuring gesture. “It’ll be fine. Just follow my lead.”
As the music started, it only occurred to him that asking Thea Fox to follow his lead was like a colony of penguins taking up residence on the dance floor. Highly unlikely. She didn’t let go, though. Didn’t fight him off.
After the first few beats, Felix held her tighter and old dance steps came back to him with surprising ease. The two of them rocked together, his fingers at her back, her warm skin filling his palm. It was as if someone had already moulded the exact shape for his hand to find just below her ribs. As he moved Thea around the dance floor, spinning her away, then back into his chest, his lips curved. They danced well together.
One good thing he’d got out of his marriage, compared to all the bad, was a rudimentary knowledge of ballroom dance. Adrienne had insisted he take lessons before their wedding. She’d accused him of having two left feet and a case of stiff hips.
After a reluctant start, Thea loosened up. Instead of worrying about Persephone Murray hovering at the edge of the dance floor, Felix had other battles to wage. With every turn of Thea’s body, the scent of her perfume and the heat from her skin sent his mind to all the wrong places.
The gentle sway of her breasts against his chest as she came close had him looking at the ceiling. He didn’t want her to think he was ogling her or that he couldn’t control himself in public. Twice, he’d pulled her in too quickly, and she pressed against him, looking as shocked as he felt. Both times, he’d uttered a quick “sorry” before carrying on. But he was fighting a losing campaign, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d find it hard to disguise the interest growing behind his fly.
At the song's crescendo, Persephone Murray hovered at the edge of the dance floor, eyes on him and Thea. But Felix breathed a sigh of relief when another dance partner claimed her. Now, he only had his growing hard-on to deal with. At least he could take comfort that the goose attack hadn’t affected his functionality.
At the last few bars of the song, he wound Thea in tightly to his chest, almost groaning at the pressure of her body against his. As her eyes flew wide open, Felix’s stomach plummeted. Had she felt it? Had she realised what lay within his trousers? Damn, his traitorous body.
With a scowl, he flung her outward again, for one last flourish, before letting go of her hand. Thea tottered a little on her heels, eyes firmly on his.
“I have to go,” he ground out over the applause his finaldance move provoked in the circle of parents watching the action. “Need to caramelise my brem crulee.”
One of Thea’s eyebrows ticked up. “Your what?”
“Nothing. I have to go,” he said again, this time reaching down to his groin, his hands barely covering the bulge threatening to reach his belly button. Heaving in deep breaths, Felix and his massive erection turned and walked as fast as physically possible towards the kitchen.
Damn. What would she think of him? He couldn’t even get his words right around her. He’d meant crème brûlée, but he wasn’t about to go back and correct his mistake.
With a shove of the door, Felix returned to the relative calm of the kitchen. Staff members who’d been chatting only moments ago straightened up, nudging each other. As he strode to the back of the room, not one of them glanced at him or made eye contact.
“Where’s the freezer?” he barked at one particularly nervous-looking woman. She pointed to the back wall, and he gave her a nod.
One minute later, Felix stood in the gloom and hum of the walk-in freezer. His erection had subsided, and his blood had stopped singing in his ears. Only a feeling of emptiness remained and a genuine risk of frostbite.
His walk back into the kitchen spoke volumes. Nobody greeted him. They’d acted as if he wasn’t there. No. As if they were terrified of him. Like he was a dangerous animal or an escaped asylum patient not to be approached. Had he really been that much of an ogre all evening?
Yes, he had. He’d acted like a dickhead, and he knew it. He’d been so wrapped up in producing fantastic food for the dinner dance he hadn’t taken time for basic courtesy. And who was he really trying to impress? Persephone Murray and her cronies? He sighed. Felix was aware of who he’d worked sohard to dazzle. The same lady who’d almost been his undoing on the dance floor.
He’d make it up to his staff. Give them all a bonus as an apology. Perhaps even organise some staff drinks. His mouth quirked at the corners. Adrienne would tell him to keep the division between him and his staff clear-cut. Professional. But Thea? She’d pour the shots and dance on the table with the best of them.
10
THEA
Butterflies battered their wings against the walls of Thea’s tummy as she took yet another sip of the green concoction in her glass. Daniel’s premixed cocktails were popular and had similar properties to rocket fuel. They had a thick, acrid smell, a steady flow when poured, and, most importantly, they burned. But no matter how much she drank, the fire in her throat didn’t drive away the tremble of her fingers.
DJ Malcom had just announced that the silent auction was about to start. Pushing out a breath, Thea headed to the table next to his booth where she’d displayed the prizes earlier. The music stopped after yet another Meghan Trainor song, and the harsh strip lights flickered to life overhead. A hundred pairs of eyes fell on Thea. Invisible fingers crept over her skin under the scrutiny. Why the hell had she chosen such a skimpy outfit?
Kitty had worn her down after one too many suggestions that Thea needed to put herself “out there.” Get a bit of action. She’d said there was no harm in road-testing an edgier look on the single dads at Clavenham Primary. Thea had caved and borrowed one of Kitty’s sexiest tops. When she wore it, Kittylooked like a supermodel. Thea looked more like cottage cheese stuffed into a paper doily.
The partygoers made their way to the table of prizes, and DJ Malcolm announced Thea as the presenter to rapturous applause. After the guests settled, she took the DJ’s microphone and explained the process for the auction.
She ran through some of the prizes: the case of wine and bistro voucher from The Five Bob, a lifetime membership to Tony’s Gym in Clavenham and a yearlong family pass to Gnome World, the area’s only theme park. There was even a set of mother-of-pearl place mats depicting scenes from the Kama Sutra. Neville from the Antiques Centre in Tottenbridge had donated those. It took Thea nearly thirty minutes to convince the old man to give them up. In the end, she’d promised he could name one of her new rescue donkeys.
Just as Thea was about to begin the proceedings, a claw-like hand grasped her arm. Persephone.
“Where’s Felix? I should get him from the kitchen. Give him a formal thank you for his beautiful food. He might want to put a bid into the auction, too.”
Thea’s stomach dropped into her stiletto shoes. Couldn’t they just leave him there, amongst the pots and pans? She’d made a silly error of judgement. Decided that in the spirit of payback for her brother’s humiliation, she’d give him a taste of his own medicine. Publicly humiliate him in return. Only now, it didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. You’ll only embarrass him. He’s very modest about his talents. Besides, he’s probably elbow-deep in washing up water by now.”
