BooksBarbecue
Back First Comes Love
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

As we dance, neither of us talks. We just move, staring into each other eyes. It’s some sort of non-verbal conversation that is making my head spin like no pirouette ever did. I get lost in the brown of Richard’s eyes, and the world around us disappears. Only our bodies exist. The heat of his right hand on my lower back, the pressure of his hand on mine as he holds it, and his hypnotizing gaze.

I don’t know how long we dance, or for how many songs, or to what rhythm and steps. I notice only when the music stops. Someone, somewhere, is making a speech, probably Christian. I don’t care. I only care that Richard has let go of my hand and I’ve been suddenly deprived of his body heat.

The boss takes a step back, looking at me as if I was a murder scene.

Still looking horrified, Richard shakes his head once and backs further away. Before I can say or do anything, he’s making a run for it.

What the hell was that?

I try to chase after him, but my gown isn’t exactly conducive to running. The full skirt certainly doesn’t help me navigate the crowd converging toward the center of the garden to listen to Christian’s speech.

Slowly, elbowing my way through Hollywood’s best, I manage to reach the edge of the group. Richard is nowhere to be seen. I frantically turn my head left and right, but he’s not here. Not caring that it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye to the host, I take the elevators down and walk to the wardrobe to retrieve my shawl and clutch.

My phone is in my hands as soon as the clerk hands me the clutch. I try Richard’s number… straight to voicemail. From upstairs comes a boom of applause and, slowly, all the guests start spilling out of the elevators and walking through the reception hall toward me. Well, toward their coats more accurately. Before the horde can trap me, I hurry outside. On the steps of Disney Hall, I try his number again and… get his voicemail again. Awesome. Richard has fried my brain with his insane eyes and made every fiber of my body want him even more, and now he’s disappeared.

Something boils in my veins. I’m not sure if it’s fury or lust, but I’m certain I’m not ready to let this go. He can’t dance with me like that and then leave me here to fend for myself. Sorry, Richard, but I know where you’re sleeping tonight. I hail a cab and give the driver the hotel address.

***