Quest (Shifter Island Book 4) by Carol Davis Page B

this were some sort of nineteenth-century cotillion and he intended to kiss the back of her hand when their dance was finished.
    That was a show, of course; his way of breaking the ice.
    She thought it was charming.
    “Sure,” she said. “Okay.”
    He was a good dancer, it turned out: very quick on his feet, very much at ease, talented enough that some of the other couples stopped dancing to watch him. When the song ended, he made a little bow, then leaned in to ask if she felt like sticking around for another song or two.
    A quick look around told her that only Pats, who was busy texting someone, had returned to the couch. The band they’d come to see wasn’t due to take the stage for at least another half an hour, and Allison couldn’t imagine sitting on the couch for that long. She’d end up obsessing about Luca, wondering where in the world he’d gone and if he was all right.
    So she danced, right up until the band was due to come on. By that time, her partner had built up a sweat, and when he brushed a kiss against her cheek, she could feel the warm dampness of his skin.
    “Thank you for the company,” he said with a big smile. “Came here needin’ to burn off some excess energy.”
    “And did you?” Allison asked.
    “I did.” He paused. “I wonder—”
    For just a moment, she wondered too. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m with—I have—there’s—”
    “No worries. You enjoy the rest of your evening, all right?”
    The crowd swallowed him up as if he’d never been there at all. She stood staring at the place where he’d been for a minute, then she turned and went back to the couch and ordered another drink.
     
    When she got back to the motel, Luca—to her great surprise—was there waiting for her. He was sitting on the bed, propped up against a heap of pillows, and was surfing through the few channels available on the TV.
    He didn’t look any more at ease than he had the night before.
    She closed the door behind her and kicked off her shoes as she moved into the room. Walking barefoot on that well-worn carpet didn’t seem like the best idea in the world, but her toes were so badly in need of a stretching that she gave in, even though she could feel grit digging into her skin.
    “You were with Julie?” he asked quietly.
    Allison nodded. “Her bachelorette party. It was… all the bridesmaids. We went to a club to see a band she likes.”
    “You had a pleasant time?”
    “Mostly.”
    He was barefoot too, she noticed, although he was otherwise fully dressed. His hair was rumpled, and there was a scratch on his cheek—though oddly, it seemed to be nearly healed. She didn’t remember it being there last night. No; she was sure it hadn’t been there last night.
    “You?” she asked. “Did you—was your day all right?”
    “It was difficult.”
    He put the remote down on the bed, but he hadn’t turned the TV off. She couldn’t tell whether he was interested in talking or not. Then his nose twitched a little and he sniffed at the air.
    He could smell that other man on her, she realized. He could smell it from where he was sitting, several yards away.
    “I danced with someone,” she said, doing her best not to sound defensive. “It’s what you do at parties. At a club. You dance.”
    “Did you kiss?”
    “No, Luca. I didn’t kiss him. I danced.”
    He didn’t say anything more, so she tossed her purse onto the dresser, then struggled to unzip her dress. She’d managed to work the zipper down only a few inches when he got up from the bed, and he lowered it the rest of the way. Then he stepped back so she could pull the dress down over her hips and take it off.
    “I’d like to take a shower,” she told him. “I feel kind of grungy. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
    “Yes,” he said.
    That was an odd answer. Yes, what? She was grungy? Her taking a shower was okay with him?
    Rather than try to puzzle it out, she went on into the bathroom and slipped out of her