With This Fling. Jeanie London
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in his grandfather’s footsteps so he wouldn’t have wound up working for Josh.
Keeping that thought to herself, she dodged the sudden silence by reaching for her water glass.
Gerard caught her hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s dance,” he repeated. “You’re wearing a dress.”
Leave it to the whiz kid to notice the obvious. And he didn’t look fazed in the least that half the table was hanging on his every word. Arrogance truly was an amazing thing.
“You don’t want to dance with me any more than I want to dance with you,” she whispered.
“Here’s a classic example of how you think you have all the answers but don’t.”
“If Josh put you up to this, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell him to butt out. Making us come to the wedding was one thing, but he’s out of his jurisdiction here. He can’t assign us this much trash work.”
A slow smile spread across Gerard’s face, making Harley realize she spent so much time avoiding looking at this man that she’d never really noticed his mouth before. Wide, full lips. Straight white teeth. A hint of a dimple in his left cheek.
Then, in a move she was too distracted to see coming, he looped his fingers around her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. He brushed those lips against her palm, a warm press of skin against skin that sent a sizzle straight up her arm.
“Josh has nothing to do with this. I don’t consider dancing with a beautiful woman trash work.”
They were putting on a show for the whole table and Harley wished she had her gun. Unfortunately, it remained in the trunk of her car where she’d left it, but if she’d been armed, she’d have drawn and told him to let go. While she might not be as clean a shot left-handed, she was just as fast.
“Forget it, Gerard,” she resorted to a verbal protest, which didn’t have nearly the same impact. “This isn’t my thing.”
“What’s not your thing?” With his mouth still brushing her palm, he leaned close and whispered, “The bartender will serve bottled beer if you ask nicely.”
Now here was the Mac Gerard she knew and didn’t love. Exhaling a breath that should have dispelled all those tingly feelings, Harley said more firmly, “I do not dance.”
“You took me to the mat in defense training yesterday. Not an easy thing to do since I outweigh you by a hundred pounds. Trust me, you can dance.” Then with that iron grip still clamped around her wrist, he dragged her out of her chair.
Short of causing a scene, there was nothing to do except be tugged onto the dance floor. With his broad shoulders and long strides, Gerard cleared a path through the couples. He moved effortlessly for such a big man, then drew her around to face him. Holding her hand in a death grip, he dropped his other to her waist, drawing her too close for comfort.
“It’s easy. Just loosen up and trust me.”
Trust him? Right. He was breaking rules here, forcing her to deal with him in a way they hadn’t dealt with each other before. And it didn’t help that the band played a slow song, which meant he tucked her so close she could feel each shift and flex of muscle as he led her through some slow steps.
“See, Harley, you move fine.”
Moving just fine would have meant heading back to the table. Or better yet, New Orleans. Being forced to stand in his arms while her body reacted to their closeness—no matter how hard she willed it otherwise—was just plain torture.
She could deal with Gerard being an idiot, but she couldn’t deal with being attracted to him. This chemistry sweeping through her, this rush of awareness so strong she half expected to feel wind whip around them, shouldn’t be happening. Worse yet, she wasn’t the only one feeling it. Gerard’s gaze grew smoky, a look that hinted at moon-soaked nights and sex.
This was ridiculous. They really couldn’t stand each other. The man went out of his way at work to challenge her. His ego had a rough time dealing with the fact that she—a woman who hadn’t had the benefit of his privileged upbringing—had more experience on the job than he did. This blue-blooded man who was used to his pedigree paving his way.
“I don’t like dancing with you,” she said.
“I do. You feel nice.”
To emphasize his point, he tightened his arm enough to tilt her off balance and press their thighs together. She had no choice but to arch against him and neither his slacks nor her gown did a damned thing to shield her from his hard muscles smothering her. Every nerve ending ignited with the contact, tempting her with an awareness so intense that she’d never felt the like, that she didn’t want to feel.
“Knock it off,” she muttered. “Or I’ll drop you right here.”
“You might have gotten me yesterday, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a sure thing.”
“The only thing saving you is that you’re not worth losing my job over. Josh will have something to say if we cause a scene.” She tried to put some distance between them, but he only tugged her closer. “You’re holding me too close, Gerard. We look like we’re doing something obscene.”
“We’re dancing. And I enjoy being close to you without having to block any punches.”
Resting his cheek on the top of her head, he fell silent, leaving Harley to guess what he was trying to pull. “Why this sudden crush to hold me?”
“This is much more fun than you trying to kick my head off.” His clear eyes flashed, a look that emphasized their closeness. “I want to explore our chemistry. It’s become a fantasy of mine.”
Harley’s mouth popped open and it took Gerard’s flashing dimple to bring her to her senses. “You’re kidding?”
He shook his head.
“If you’re trying to freak me out because you know I’m unarmed, you’re doing a good job.”
“A compliment. That’s a first.” He guided her away from a couple dancing within earshot. “And I don’t trust that you’re unarmed. Knowing you, there’s a weapon hidden somewhere—”
“Which I couldn’t reach without flashing the room.”
He let his eyes flutter shut and inhaled deeply. “Now there’s an image to keep me awake at night. I want to see you naked, Harley. That’s another fantasy of mine.”
“You’re really pushing it—”
“Refreshing to see you two engaged in something other than combat for a change.” Josh’s voice filtered through the moment with the impact of a cooling rain on a summer day.
They swirled around to find him dancing with a smiling Lennon. Harley didn’t smile back. She managed to squeeze a little breathing room between her and Gerard while letting Lennon know with a narrowed gaze that she disliked the seating arrangements.
“We promised to play nice for the day,” Gerard said.
Harley didn’t offer reassurances. Josh believed in actions over words and she wasn’t someone who liked to waste her breath. She’d play nice as long as Gerard didn’t do anything stupid—no guarantee with all his talk of fantasies.
“Getting away from the office is a good thing,” Lennon said, daring Harley to disagree.
Harley didn’t reply to that. Not with Josh peering down at his wife with one of those expressions, a look that wouldn’t change even if Lennon turned blue and started gibbering in an incomprehensible alien tongue.
Harley had witnessed this phenomenon firsthand more than once, a phenomenon that never failed to take her by surprise. She’d watched Josh draw down on a gang, without blinking, to extract information on a missing