The Night that Changed Everything Read Online Free PDF Page A

began to enjoy himself as he drew her out, got her talking, even teased her a bit. She responded, then backed off. He didn’t want her backing off.
    So he asked her to dance.
    The request probably shocked him more than it had her. Nick didn’t dance. Hadn’t for years.
    The last woman he’d danced with had been Amy, three nights before their wedding, the night before she’d died. He’d danced with Amy and it had been the last time he’d held her in his arms.
    It wasn’t the same, he assured himself. Nothing like the same.
    This was a one-off, a turn around the dance floor with a pretty, vivacious woman. He was at a wedding, for God’s sake. Dancing was expected! Just because he hadn’t done it in eight years … It meant nothing.
    Dancing was only moving your feet to music. Hardly something to hold sacred. He should have done it years ago, would have if it had ever occurred to him.
    So he was shocked again when Edie said no.
    In all his thirty-three years Nikolas Savas had never been turned down for a dance—which was undoubtedly why he’d demanded, “Why not?”
    Her unexpected, yet honest answer had made him laugh. Her feet hurt.
    No woman he’d ever met—not even Amy—had actually admitted that those stupid pointy-toed shoes women wore hurt their feet.
    When he’d knelt to ease hers off, they were so tight he couldn’t believe she’d even got them on. He wasn’t surprised when she’d said they belonged to her sister. No wonder she didn’t want to dance. It was astonishing she could even walk.
    But once he’d freed her feet and tossed the offending footwear under the table—so she wouldn’t dare crawl under and rescue them—she let him take her into his arms and swirl her onto the dance floor.
    It was like riding a bike. Once you learned how to dance, you never forgot.
    But it wasn’t like dancing with Amy.
    Amy had been tiny, the top of her head barely reaching hisshoulder. Edie’s nose would have bumped his chin if she’d come that close. She didn’t. She kept her distance and periodically glanced down at her stocking-clad toes.
    So did he. They charmed him. She seemed shocked by them. Shocked to be dancing with him.
    But she moved well, except for the fact that every once in a while she would stiffen and start to pull away.
    When she did, he drew her closer, enjoying the feel of her soft breasts against his chest, of the silky dark hair that brushed his jaw when she turned her head. He brushed his lips against her hair.
    She stiffened again. “Are you staring?”
    No, that wasn’t what he was doing. He grinned. “No.”
    “You are, too. You’re ogling my feet.”
    He laughed and pulled her even closer. “There. Now I can’t see them. Better?”
    “Er, um,” she muttered into the wool of his lapel. He felt her body stiffen again, but she didn’t pull away. And seconds later, the tension seemed to ease, her body settled against his as they moved together.
    Much better, he decided. Except that his body was becoming increasingly aware of how very appealing she was. Nick might have sworn off the idea of marrying after Amy’s death, but he hadn’t sworn off sex.
    And thoughts of taking Edie Daley to bed were very appealing.
    She seemed to fit in his arms, and as they moved together, he rested his cheek on her hair. She had amazing hair, not at all like the straight platinum curtain Rhiannon wore. Edie’s was thick and dark and wavy. He suspected it had started out the evening tamed by a pair of gold hair clips just above her ears. But it was a long while since those clips had done their job. Even as she danced, her hair was escaping, curling wildly with a life of its own.
    He wanted to thread his fingers through it, bury his face init. He imagined what it would look like spread out against the sheets. He began to consider again how to get her there when the last strains of the waltz died away and the orchestra segued into something louder, faster and with a pounding of drums, which