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He closed the space between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. Keeping his touch featherlight, he ran his palms down her arms. He reached her hands and intertwined his fingers with hers. Slowly, he drew her arms up and pinned her hands over her head.
She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide with wonder. She looked so damn innocent. His gaze skimmed over her mouth, down her neck, to the swells visible above her sports bra.
“Show me more,” she murmured.
He was tempted. His hard-on pressed against his shorts.
“Your hands stay here,” he ordered. “Understood?”
She nodded.
He released her and ran his palms down her arms. So damn soft. He reached her shoulders and headed south, allowing his fingers to roam her curves. His thumbs skimmed the sides of her breasts as his palms slid down her sides. When he came to her slim, yet firm, thighs, he drew her legs up until he was nestled between her limbs.
Hooyah. His dick hadn’t been this happy in months. And yeah, tempting didn’t begin to cover what he felt, what he wanted. But…
This was insane. This wasn’t a mission. And he didn’t know this woman. Hell, she could be playing some twisted game with him. He’d kiss her and the next thing he knew, her boyfriend would jump him from behind.
He released her and stepped back. He glanced over his shoulder at the shirtless man still kneeling in the dust and…
What the hell? Staring at his ass?
Dante didn’t know what to believe. The story about the country music video—shot in Vegas of all places—seemed like a bold-faced lie. Sure, he was in town to meet up with a country starlet. But as far as he knew, she wasn’t shooting a video like the dude who sang about love and sex.
Logic told him to walk away. And yeah, another part of him tried to redirect his thinking and kiss the girl. Maybe he’d knock her crazy wig off in the process and see her true hair color.
Or maybe he’d let passion lead him into another crash and burn. One failed marriage and a series of meaningless flings proved there were two organs he couldn’t trust when it came to women—his heart and his dick.
He released her hands and stepped back. “That should help you with your video shoot.”
She nodded. “It’s a start. But—”
“I need to head out,” he cut in before she asked for a kiss and his erection vetoed his common sense. “I’m meeting someone. But before I go, I’d like to walk you back to your car.”
“You’re sweet.” She wrapped her arms around her bare stomach. It was strange, but he swore she looked more shaken by his touch, and the way he hadn’t kissed her, than the man who’d slammed her into a freaking canyon wall.
“Not sweet,” he said. “But I know that if a woman is about to pass out while I’m kissing her, I’m doing something that should land me in a jail cell.” He shot another hard look at the man on the ground. He was 95 percent certain the other man wouldn’t hurt her. But still, he wasn’t willing to risk her safety. “If you won’t let me call the police, I’ll have to insist on escorting you to your car.”
“But Jared isn’t going to hurt me,” she continued. “And we really do need to rehearse.”
“Not here,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with him.”
“Please, Ms. Ta—”
“Fine,” she said, cutting the other man off. “We’ll go.”
She picked up a red hiking backpack and stormed away to the parking area, calling over her shoulder. “Come on, Jared. Thanks to your performance, you just might get a nap in before the hair and makeup call.”
The shirtless man scrambled to his feet and followed the woman whose backside rivaled her front. Dante stared, memorizing the way her jeans hugged her ass. Her body reminded him of Britney Spears. Not that he’d ever listened to her music. But his kid sister had put up a poster in her room of the blond pop star in a schoolgirl’s outfit.
The woman wearing the wig was older than the classic teenage Britney. Probably in her twenties. But hell, he’d love to see her trade in her jeans for that skirt. Toss in a pair of thigh-high stockings…
Fuck me.
Dante turned away. Yeah, he’d reached a new low, all right. He should be focused on his knee, not some strange chick who wore a wig to a damn canyon.
He glanced over his shoulder and watched as the bl
ack hair disappeared into a blue car that looked nothing like a rental. His jaw tightened. He had a bad feeling she hadn’t been telling him the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But at least she’d climbed into the car alone. The guy she claimed to be working with headed for a nondescript white sedan. And yeah, that one screamed rental.
