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“I would love that.” Myra put her hand in his and marveled at how right their hands felt together.
His gaze dropped to their clasped hands and then back up to her face. He seemed to be waging an internal battle. She smiled at him and his eyes cleared to the beautiful, piercing blue that she loved.
He slid his hand around her lower back, and she rested her hand on his strong shoulder. A heady sensation filled her. Touching and being touched had never been so filled with meaning and enjoyment.
Ike slowly waltzed her with the crowd, but they were in their own world. His gaze was full of her. He did a check on Beau and the perimeter, and she followed suit. They were both in the moment of the dance but working together to effortlessly protect Beau. All was well. Their gazes connected again.
“Myra,” he murmured in a husky growl that shot heat through her.
“Ike.” His name came out on a breathy sigh.
His hand on her back ushered her closer, and at the same instant she slid her hand across his shoulder, around to the back of his neck, and then threaded her fingertips through his short hair.
He groaned and pressed her flush to his strong body. For a few blissful moments, they simply moved together with the music. The fluidity of his movements and his larger frame surrounding her was everything she’d ever need. She never wanted to leave the circle of his arms.
The music stopped and people were clapping and dancers next to them were moving apart.
Myra was the one groaning now. Their dance had barely begun and now decorum dictated they had to pull apart.
Ike eased away, releasing her. As he should. No matter how she longed to stay in his arms.
They both searched and found Beau. He was obviously arguing with Bermuda. They slowly eased in that direction.
Ike said in a beautiful, husky undertone, “We’re becoming experts at touching each other.”
Myra laughed softly. She was falling in love with him. If she dared say that, he’d probably run the other direction. She should be horrified even thinking it. Her dreams and goals didn’t include falling in love with a fellow security specialist, even if he was the toughest and most protective security specialist she’d ever met.
“Remember that was all me,” she said, “starting our initial hand-holding session.”
He grinned, his cheeks crinkling in that appealing way he had, but then he grew serious. “I’ll never forget that.”
She wondered if he meant that she’d started the hand-holding or he’d never forget how incredible it had felt. She wanted to ask if he felt the connection and sparks between them, if her touch was unique, and if they had a future after this op finished. How could she possibly bring that up without being as transparent and needy as she’d ever been?
They reached Beau and Bermuda just as Bermuda stormed past them, glaring daggers at Myra. Beau turned and watched her go, his dark eyes sad. He was far too expressive.
Ike was checking around them.
“Let’s go,” Beau said. He hurried off in front of them, not even bothering to pretend he and Myra were together.
Ike arched an eyebrow. They both rushed to keep pace with Beau. Myra put a smile on her face. Luckily, this was a private event and the security presence was strong, so no paparazzi had snuck inside, but she noticed a lot of people eyeing her and Ike as they shadowed Beau. They probably looked much more like bodyguards than a friend and girlfriend. Shoot.
Beau burst through the main doors and across the wide porch that surrounded the clubhouse. He all but ran for the valet stand, shoving some money into the man’s hand. As Myra scanned the valets and immediate area, Ike casually took a wider view of street and surroundings.
“I’m guessing your dance didn’t go as well as ours,” Ike said softly to Beau.
“Nah, man. Not even close.” He squinted across the road, shoulders bowed forward. Searching for Bermuda? He looked like a boy who’d lost his best friend.
Myra and Ike exchanged a look. She wasn’t certain how to help Beau, but she forced herself to step closer. He glanced down at her, his dark eyes forlorn.
“Can we … do anything for you?” Myra asked.
He shook his head. “Let’s just get home.”
“Okay.”
She looked to Ike. He shrugged and focused on the people coming out the front doors and the surrounding area.
Obviously something had happened with Bermuda. Did Beau actually care about one woman enough to commit to her? She didn’t follow famous people’s dating lives, but you’d have to be hiding under a rock to not know Bermuda had dumped him and that Beau Alexander flitted from woman to woman faster than he could drive drunk.
