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The Wedding Secret

Written by Kianna Alexander

Chapter Six

Amir stood by the punch bowl in the hotel ballroom, filling his crystal cup with the bright red drink. The reception was well underway, and since he and Renata had traveled there in separate cars, he hadn’t reconnected with her yet. Lifting the cup to his lips, he took a long swig of punch, while scanning the room.

He spotted Renata standing near the head table. She bent slightly at the waist as she spoke to one of the bridesmaids, and Amir reveled in the view of her full cleavage. She was beautiful and seemed completely unaware of it, which only made her more appealing. Draining his punch, he set the cup aside and strode in her direction.

When Amir approached, Renata straightened. He stood back a bit, not wanting to interrupt her conversation. When she walked over to him, he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“I knew you would find me.” She came abreast of him, bringing with her the soft floral scent of her perfume.

He reached for her, and marveled as she slipped her small hand into his. “I’m a man on a mission, remember?”

She chuckled. “You’re really something, Amir.”

He kissed her hand. “So are you.”

The DJ dropped the dance jam “Whoomp! (There It Is)” by Tag Team.

“Wow. There’s a classic.” Renata looked out at the people gathering on the polished dance floor.

He tugged her hand. “Care to dance?”

She smiled, nodded.

The mid-tempo pace of the song encouraged a lot of rowdy dancing, so he guided her around the flailing limbs until they found an empty spot. Once there, Amir danced, facing Renata. She shot him teasing glances as she turned her back to him and wiggled her hips. He enjoyed watching her dance, not only because of the way her shapely body moved, but because of how carefree she appeared. From the moment he’d met her, he’d sensed something troubling her, something holding her back from him. But now, as she danced, she seemed to have released whatever negativity had plagued her.

When she whirled around to face him again, she said, “You’re a pretty good dancer.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He didn’t want to say anything that would upset her, but curiosity got the better of him. Trying to keep his tone light, he asked, “How’d you get into floral design?”

Still dancing, she answered. “I’ve always loved art and aesthetics. Coming from a family of doctors it wasn’t the most popular choice, but by high school I knew it was what I wanted.”

He nodded. “Must’ve been hard to go against family pressure. I respect that.”

As the song ended, she stepped closer to him. “Thanks.”

A long, silent moment passed between them. Her eyes fled, searching the room, looking everywhere but at him. What’s on her mind?

The DJ dropped a slow record then: “Let’s Chill,” an R&B ballad by Guy.

Their gazes met, and he opened his arms.

“May I have this dance?”

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Kianna Alexander

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