Made For Each Other by Parris Afton Bonds Page A

was sure Sheila had managed to arrange the seating just as
easily as she managed to hold Nick’s attention with her intimate
discussion of the approaching election year—though Julie would have
sworn Sheila’s eyes said something else.
    Although the other guests seated with
Julie were intelligent, interesting people—a grand-father who wrote
historical romances, a scientist who worked at the Los Alamos
laboratory, and a ski instructor—she could not keep her gaze from
straying to Nick and Sheila. From the corner of her eye she watched
his handsomely sardonic face as he inclined his head, listening
intently to whatever it was that Sheila whispered at his ear. Every
once in a while the flash of a photographer’s camera illuminated
the table, but the two of them seemed oblivious to the commotion.
Once she saw Dee Morley busily scribbling on a notepad and inwardly
cringed at what she would read in Dee’s column the next
day.
    She was so miserable that the
sumptuously prepared prime rib of roast beef stuck in her throat
like a piece of charcoal and the red wine was as tasteless as
water. After dinner the musicians began to play, and the governor
and his wife opened the first dance, a waltz. A few minutes later
others began to join the first couple, and she noticed Sheila rise
from her seat and Nick take her arm, leading her out onto the dance
floor.
    Julie tried to smile, to listen to
what the scientist was telling her about the world’s first atomic
bomb, developed in New Mexico, but her heart was not in it. She
could not help but watch the striking couple on the dance floor.
Two tall, beautiful people—they were made for each other. They were
the elite of New Mexico’s high society—rich, beautiful, influential
people.
    It was not until her name was repeated
the second time that she realized a man behind her was requesting a
dance with her. She looked around. “Jim! I didn’t know you were
here.”
    The nice-looking man of medium height
took her hand. “And I wasn’t sure you were here—until I saw Senator
Raffer on the dance floor and realized that ...” He
halted.
    “I’m so glad you came,” she said,
saving him from embarrassment.
    “You should know by now that newspaper
editors are always invited to all the func¬tions,” he said wryly.
“To make certain the gala events get a big splash on the society
page.” His gaze swept over her appreciatively, and he said, “You
look lovely tonight, Julie.”
    “Thank you, Jim,” she said quietly.
Why hadn’t Nick told her that? Constantly subjected as she was to
Nick’s roguish good looks, she had forgotten that Jim Miller was
quite handsome himself, with blondish-brown hair that emphasized
his velvet brown eyes; so she readily accepted his request to
dance. If Nick could have fun, then why couldn’t she? she asked
herself.
    Jim guided her to the already crowded
dance floor and took her in his arms. she found it easy to follow
Jim, though she felt none of the electric quality in him that ran
under Nick’s cool reserve.
    “Are you happy?” Jim asked.
    She turned her face into his shoulder
so that he could not see the misery in her eyes. “Of course,” she
mumbled into the smooth lapel of his tuxedo. “Aren’t all brides
happy?” Jim looked down at her flushed face. “I guess it’s just
that I didn’t know that you were seeing anyone else.”
    “I—it was just something unexpected.”
She met his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, Jim, truly.”
    He smiled. “No problem. I knew you
were too cute and too intelligent for some lucky man not to snatch
up quickly. I’m just sorry I waited too long.”
    Her dimples deepened. “That’s the best
thing I’ve heard all night.”
    “Do I get to give the bride a
kiss?”
    “Of course,” she said, expecting a
brief kiss on the cheek.
    But it was more than a brotherly peck
Jim bestowed on Julie’s inviting lips, and she was so surprised by
the kiss that for a moment she forgot to dance and stood there