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I don’t want them to be, even as I melt into him, taking that evocative, intimate scent of spice and honey and tobacco leaf deep inside me, beyond my lungs.
The music is slow, and for long moments, I simply let it wash over me and savor the fact I’m where I shouldn’t want to be, where I love being, just be. Being in his arms is intoxicating and makes me want to lose myself in him as I did all those years ago.
“You’re a good dancer,” he murmurs, mouth brushing against my temple, sending a shiver of heat through my flesh.
His thumb moves against the back of my hand as he holds it.
Usually, we’re dancing around each other, something fast, me trying one thing and him the other. This is together, and it has power, almost like it’s an aphrodisiac all its own.
“I could step all over your toes if you like.”
“Only if you’re not wearing heels and you’re naked in my arms.”
That knocks the air from me.
His no-holds-barred flirt slides on the edge of inappropriate. It isn’t that. It isn’t at all.
That’s the thing.
My brain spins it all around, trying to find an angle to make it wrong.
But it would only be wrong if I didn’t lust for him.
And it’s wrong because I shouldn’t feel like that.
I know who and what he is.
The man tipped me. He doesn’t remember me.
“Hey,” he whispers, “I’ll never do something you don’t want.”
“And if I don’t want to dance with you?”
He leans back. “I’ll walk.”
“Just dance,” I say, staring at his buttons instead of that disturbingly handsome face. “People will talk, and I don’t want them to.”
Leland pulls me a little closer, the hand on my waist whispering a path along my spine that makes me wobble. The man is pure danger.
I wait for him to gloat over being right. But all he says is, “Why do you need a lawyer, Sarah?”
“I’m taking care of it.”
He sighs. “The fact Dakota called me means she’s worried.”
“It’s what she does.” I brush my cheek against his chest because I can.
“No. She doesn’t. She’s protective of what’s hers, and the fact she contacted me means what I said. She’s worried. I get it, Sarah, you’re strong—”
“Exactly. And I can take care of it.”
“But strong also means asking for help. So does smart, and I know you’re smart. You’re a manager, not a lawyer. Let me help.”
“Leave it.” My toes curl in my heels for the wrong reasons.
“And you’re all stiff again.”
The music stops and I’m both relieved and resentful.
