Page 37

“Dr. Sanders,” Julian said with a smile as he shook. I continued to sip on my drink.

“Mrs. Sanders.” Julian grasped the woman’s hand and kissed her knuckles, making her blush. “May I introduce my companion this evening, Miss Miriam Striver.”

I tipped my glass in a toast and smiled. Then I tossed my hair over my shoulder and leaned back against the bar as it bathed us in red.

“A pleasure,” Sanders said.

“You certainly dressed to match the theme this evening,” Mrs. Sanders said.

I glanced to Julian. Was that an insult?

“Part of the reason I came was to tango,” Julian said with a laugh. “So of course, we dressed appropriately. Will you two be dancing?” he asked.

“I’m afraid my tango days are behind me,” Sanders said. “Though if someone as lovely as Miss Striver here asked me, I’d give it a go.”

“I’m afraid my dance card is filled with Mr. Carver,” I said in a low voice. Setting my drink on the bar, I tugged Julian toward the empty dance floor while I spoke our silent language.

She’s here.

Julian smiled back at me as his gaze perused the room, landing on the elevator.

“Major Marcia Honeywell,” announced the greeter.

Julian looked to the band. They took up their instruments as he fixed his gaze on me and smoldered so hard I thought I might spontaneously combust.

Mouth dry, my heart pounded as he placed my arms around his neck and his around my waist, tugging me close.

Relax, and allow me.

The familiar rhythm of the tango I’d heard many times but never tried to actually move to took hold, and Julian began to glide over the dance floor, fingers on my hips, directing me one way then the other.

Just keep looking at my eyes and mirroring my steps.

The world spun as he expertly guided us around the exterior of the dance floor. My body flushed with heat as he twirled and dipped me back until my blonde hair swept the ground then had me upright moments later and marched me in the other direction, arms outstretched. A cheer rose from the crowd, but all I could see was the smile on his lips and the glow of his indigo eyes. Memories of him smiling down at me like that as he moved inside of me stole my breath.

This must be what it’s like to be glamoured.

He spun me out multiple times then back into his arms where my chest heaved against his, and I wondered what it might be like to do this kind of a dance in private. I barely noticed our feet moving again as we glided around the dance floor, synchronized to the beat.

Julian’s grace combined with the strength of the way he held me—guided me—aroused a carnal hunger in me with a life of its own. The scent of him, the feel of his body always connected to mine in some way no matter how we moved, and the way he took control, sent me into a tailspin of want.

As the music halted for a moment, Julian brought us to a stop, our bodies pressed along each other, his leg between my thighs, hand hooked around my lower back, fingers brushing the top of my ass. Based on what I felt, he was enjoying himself just as much as I was. And then the song swelled, and I was spinning again. He backed me toward the edge of the space, brushing body to body with each long stride. Every nerve ending became a live wire demanding his touch. Urging me to strip us both naked so I could feel all of him against my skin at once instead of the teases I was getting as his gaze bore into me, stoking fire in my core.

His hand whipped out and snatched a rose someone had thrown, which he placed between his teeth.

I wanted to release some of the pressure of these intense feelings with a laugh as he waggled his brow, but he dipped me again, one hand on my waist, one holding my thigh as I gave him all my weight. He lifted me, spit the rose to the ground, and spun me around his body. When the song ended, I was pressed against Julian chest to groin, dizzy, completely out of breath, and ready for him to take me right there on the wooden floor.

Applause roared around us, and I became aware of the way the partygoers had surrounded, yet not joined us.

“Wow,” a woman said from the side, and when I looked, she was as red as my dress.

Julian smiled and led me toward the bar where the crowd parted easily for him. “A glass of water for the lady,” he said as I tried my best to cool down.

I bit my bottom lip, considering all the things I planned to do with him when this was finished. Then I emptied my cold water and smoothed back my hair as I got down to business. The sooner we accomplished what we came for, the sooner I could get him in bed.

At the far corner of the dance floor, I spotted the major towering over her escort, Tomás. She wore her own blonde hair swept up, a black leather gown, and my boots. She glared at Julian. I had a hunch she was using her mind-bending. But we’d prepared for it.

Sure enough, he left my side and made his way around the outskirts of the party as everyone broke back into their small clusters. I pretended to be hurt and shocked at his abrupt departure. As we hoped, the major excused herself from Tomás and followed Julian. I began to shadow her.