THE WAR BRIDE CLUB by Soraya Lane Page A

cup down.
          “So how about that dance?” he asked.
          Charlie grinned at her before standing and extending a hand to her. She took it.  
          “I’m not much of a dancer…”
          “Nonsense,” he insisted, keeping hold of her hand and walking closer to her than she’d expected. “A girl that looks as good as you has got to be good on the dance floor.”
          Betty tried not to laugh.  
           Oh yes , she understood how easy it would be to fall for an American’s charm.
          The band burst into a rendition of the Glenn Miller orchestra as the singers belted out The Andrews Sisters, and Charlie tugged at her wrist so insistently she thought it might actually fall off.  
          “Come on girl, let’s get dancing!”
          Betty thought of resisting, of digging her heels into the floor and not trying something new. But Charlie was so persuasive. He didn’t even need to say anything. The flash of his eyes, his smile, the pull of his body as he stood waiting for her.  
          She sucked in a deep breath of air, filled her lungs with enough oxygen to make herself light-headed, and swallowed her fears. She had wished for her very own prince charming for years; imagine if this was him and she let fear stop her from finding him?       
          Once her arms were pressed against his, she felt a burst of excitement. She straightened her shoulders, followed his lead and felt as if her feet were moving so fast they weren’t even touching the ground.  
          Charlie had a smile on his face like she’d never seen before. Perhaps it was the war making the good times seem happier than ever. Maybe it was the heat in the room, the swill of the crowd, the thrum of adrenalin caused by the band, but Betty found herself lost to Charlie.  
          Only moments earlier she’d thought of ignoring his advances.  
          Only moments earlier, she hadn’t even known he existed.  
          And now here she was, twirling, swirling and falling into his embrace, acting as if they’d been sweethearts for months.  
          As the band wound down, belting out the last tunes of a song, Charlie spun her out then pulled her in tight against him. She was cocooned between his arms and his chest. Like an insect in a web with no chance of escape.  
          If he’d let her, she would have looked away. But his eyes weren’t letting her off that easily.
          “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said.
          She listened to his drawl and tried to push the words away. She wasn’t used to compliments.  
          “You are, Betty.” He paused and looked at her, ignoring the fact the band had started another tune. A slow tune. It felt as if the room was spinning away from them, the other couples a blur in the far distance. “You’re the most beautiful girl here.”
          He kept his eyes on hers, his arms looped around her body. She’d never in her life been this close to a man, never before felt the excitement of being held in a man’s arms.  
          Charlie brought his lips slowly toward hers. She raised her chin, fighting a tremble as he moved even closer. It felt like an age before his lips actually touched hers; before their skin met. Her mouth parted ever so slightly as they kissed. A soft press that lasted forever yet was over too quickly.  
          As Charlie pulled away, a whoop made her turn. Charlie tugged her back against him, glaring at his friends. They were all clapping and catcalling. He hadn’t just kissed her to show-off to them, had he?  
          “Charlie…”  
          “Ignore them, sweetheart,” he said, drawing her close. They swayed together to the soft, slow lull of music. “They’re just jealous.”
          She believed him. Not the jealousy part, but the fact that he wanted her in his arms.  
          The spicy scent