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I hold his eyes as long as I can, let him see just how unafraid I am—and that I have no intention of backing down.

His whole body seems to grow harder, hotter, where it rests against the side of my own. And while he doesn’t say anything, I know he understands the gauntlet I’ve just thrown down, just as I know that he has picked it up.

He leans in closer, ostensibly to be heard over the music and the crowds, but as his breath brushes against my ear, my throat, the sensitive nape of my neck, I know the truth. That he is doing it to torment me, to arouse me. As my nipples peak and my sex throbs, I have to admit that he is very, very good at what he does.

“This is going to be fun,” he tells me, the words soft and warm as they caress the sensitive skin behind my ear.

I suck in a deep breath at the sensations rioting inside me, and immediately regret it as I pull his scent deep into my sinuses, into my lungs. He smells like the ocean, only sweeter. Like oranges and secrets and smooth, rich chocolate. There’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to roll around in his scent, to wrap it around myself and huddle inside it—inside him—until everything bad in my life just floats away.

Still, I manage to rally. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how easily he can throw me off my game. “It’s going to be something. I’m not sure fun is quite the word for it. ”

“Sure it is. There’s no point in doing anything if it isn’t fun. ”

The words work their way inside me, pull me out of the sensual fog his touch and voice and scent have enveloped me in. I look at him curiously. “Do you really believe that?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t be as successful as I am if I didn’t enjoy what I do. ”

His answer makes sense, and yet I know there’s more to it. I can see it burning in his eyes, feel it in the way his body tenses against mine. But before I can call him on it, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

Normally I’d ignore it, but I’m pretty sure it’s Tori. I pull it out, glance at it. Sure enough. “Tori’s got a spot to the left of the stage. She wants me to meet her there. ”

Ethan nods, then effortlessly steers us in the right direction until we run straight into Tori. Maybe I should have warned her, because for the first time in the three years I’ve known her, my best friend is speechless. Face-slack, mouth-open, eyes-wide speechless.

It’s not a great look on her, but Ethan doesn’t seem overly concerned. Which makes me wonder just how often women look at him like that. Then again, maybe I don’t want to know. Especially if it’s on a daily basis.

“Ethan, this is my best friend, Tori. ” I step on her foot in an effort to pull her out of her dazed stupor. “Tori, this is my boss, Ethan Frost. ”

Ethan gives me a strange look when I call him my boss, but it’s not like I have another moniker for him. He’s not my date tonight. He’s not my friend yet, and he certainly isn’t my boyfriend. I guess I could have just introduced him as Ethan, but it isn’t like Tori doesn’t know who he is. The fact that she has yet to blink is a pretty good clue that the cat was out of the bag before I so much as opened my mouth.

“Hi, Tori. It’s nice to meet you. ”

He smiles at her, one of his I’m-a-charming-bastard-and-I-know-it smiles, and my roommate—my world-weary roommate—giggles like a thirteen-year-old. Ugh. When I get her home I’m going to kill her.

“Nice to meet you, too, Ethan. ” She runs a hand through her Technicolor hair, shoots me a sly look. “Fancy running into you here. ”

“Frost Industries is sponsoring the fund-raiser,” I quickly interject before she can embarrass me any more than she already has. “The environment is one of the Frost Foundation’s big causes. ”

“Isn’t that a coincidence? Environmental foundations are where all your extra money goes, too, aren’t they?”

And the girl wonders why I won’t let her set me up on any blind dates? If she’s this bad with a guy she has no vested interest in at all, imagine how she’d behave if she’d actually set us up together. She’d probably be asking about kid names and china patterns right about now.

Ethan doesn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, he looks at me with interest. “You’re interested in green issues, too?”

Interested enough that I came close to specializing in environmental law. Not that I’m going to say that—I have no desire to look half as desperate as Tori’s rabid interest is painting me. “I think everyone has some interest in green issues at this point, don’t you?”

“You’d be surprised. ” He glances at the table, where Tori has a collection of street tacos. And two margarita glasses, one of which is already empty. “I’m going to go get a beer. Can I get you another one of those?”

“Sure. ” There goes the fingers through her hair again. “It’s a mango margarita. ”

“Got it. ” He pulls out one of the vacant chairs with one hand, presses lightly on my back with the other to guide me into it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. ”

“More like half an hour,” Tori says. “The booths are swamped. ”

Ethan just smiles. “Can I get you anything?” he asks me before he leaves.

I take a long sip of my strawberry margarita. It’s delicious, and not too heavy on the alcohol—which is exactly how I like it. “If the lines are that long, maybe you could bring me another one of these as well?”

He grins wickedly, and I know he’s thinking of my predilection for all things strawberry. “You bet. ”

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