“So are you a friend of the groom or the bride?” he asked.

“Neither.”

“A gatecrasher?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Zoe liked his sense of humor. “No. My aunt was invited, and I’m her guest.”

“So you don’t have a date?”

“No.” Zoe looked over his shoulder catching her aunt staring at her with a look of approval.

She tried to put a little distance between them, but he failed to take the hint. His hand was just at her waist. His other arm held her hand as if they were waltzing.

“I’m surprised. I would have thought a beautiful woman like you would have a string of admirers.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t want to get into a conversation about her lack of dates. She had taken ages to get over her last break up and then a lack of time not to mention money over took her life.

“Seriously, you stand out a mile in this crowd.”

She was glad she’d borrowed the dress she was wearing but was that a compliment? She thought it looked good. It was as different as possible from her usual wardrobe. The off the shoulder style suited her, according to Kathy. She felt graceful and feminine although she worried she would trip in the heels. Her shoes were the favorite part of her outfit, they looked like Cinderella slippers but they were higher than she usually wore. She’d picked them up at a second-hand store.

“I like the fact you wore red. Everyone else seems to have gone with more muted colors.”

She stared at him for a second trying to work out if he was insulting her. Did he think her dress wasn’t classy enough?

“I thought it looked nice,” she mumbled, wishing the dance were over.

“Nice? That’s the understatement of the year. You look incredible. Especially when you smile.”

Blushing, she looked over his shoulder at all the glamorous women dressed in the best designer clothes money could buy. He was either super smooth or extremely kind. She didn’t have enough experience with men to know which.

“You should smile all the time.”

She opened her mouth to say it was easy not to have to frown when you had enough cash, but that would have been rude. She stayed silent.

“So, do you come here often?” he asked.

“Seriously? Did you just ask me that?”

“I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been a while since I had a woman as gorgeous as you in my arms.”

She gave him a look. “I find that hard to believe.”

Instead of making him shut up, her skepticism seemed to encourage him.

“Does that mean you might like me a bit too?”

“Like you? I don’t know you. We’re just having one dance.”

“I bet you’d like me if you got to know me. Or so I’ve been told.”

His confidence should have been off-putting, but for some reason it wasn’t. Maybe because his eyes were dancing with laughter as if he were joking. “My mother swore I was nice.”

She smiled as he joked around.

”Much as I would love to stay and chat, I have to go.” She told herself she tried to move but his arms were holding her. In fact, she liked dancing with him. He made her feel good but him holding her like that was bringing up the past. She didn’t want to think about that now.

“Why? Will you turn into a pumpkin if you stay longer?”

She had to get away from him. He was being so friendly and complimentary, it would be easy to believe he was really interested in her. But she was a mechanic and he…she didn’t know what he did, but he wasn’t poor. That was obvious from his clothes.

“The coach turned into a pumpkin. Everyone knows that,” she responded with a smile.

“Not me. Fairy tales aren’t my forte.”

As if. He looked exactly like something out of a fairytale. Something her fairy godmother would conjure up. She normally didn’t like facial hair, but his almost-beard suited him.

“Can I take you home?”

It would be so easy to take the lift and hope he wanted to get to see her again. Fairy tales didn’t happen to her. Nightmares did. They had only just met, yet he had made her laugh and feel better than she had done in a long time. She hadn’t felt like this since…

“I don’t think that is wise.”

He was still holding her around her waist. She moved to one side. He was trying to explain away his behavior but she wouldn’t listen.

“I was only—”

She cut him off before she let her guard down and took up his kind offer.

“I’m sorry but I have to go. Thank you for the dance.”

She walked, almost ran off the dance floor, causing a few people to stare at her but she didn’t care. She couldn’t handle the memories, the feelings of rejection came flooding back. She had to get out of there before anyone saw her crying. She’d sworn she wouldn’t cry another tear over a man. Not even one who seemed as charming, funny and witty as the one she had left standing on the dance floor.