The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge. Maxine Sullivan
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concerned with his own reputation than hers, so it was silly to feel a flutter of apprehension just because he wanted to show off for his friends. He was really just a kid who’d had too much to drink.
Should she wait until the music stopped, then go back to her table? Or go now? The room was full of people. Surely nothing would happen to her in the middle of the dance floor….
She jumped when he began to nuzzle her neck. Okay, no way could she let this go any further. “Danny, I—”
“Let the lady go,” a deep male voice said beside them, startling them both, the warning in Brant’s voice clearly evident.
Danny shoved himself away from Kia, a slightly belligerent look on his face until he caught sight of who’d spoken. His cheeks began to turn red as he looked at Brant’s thunderous expression. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“I know exactly what you were doing, Daniel.” Brant jerked his head at the table behind them. “I suggest you go back to your table before I decide to tell Mr. Reid what you were trying to do with his PA.”
Danny looked horrified. “I was just fooling around, Mr. Matthews—promise,” he said, then scurried away, obviously terrified he would lose his job.
Kia couldn’t help but feel sorry for the young man. Brant could be a formidable figure when he chose to be, though why he chose to throw his weight around now was anybody’s guess.
She winced inwardly. That wasn’t quite true. She knew exactly why he wanted Danny away from her. But before she could think further, Brant swept her into his arms and began to lead her around the dance floor. His touch was impersonal enough, so why did she feel acutely aware of him and his sexual power over her?
Angry with herself for her reaction, she shot him a look that would make a lesser man stumble. “You didn’t need to frighten him like that.”
“Yes, I did.”
And she saw that deep down he did. It fit his dangerous persona. The predator who never gave up his prey without a fight. All very subliminal, yet it was there, hidden beneath his civilized exterior. God, was she the only one who saw it? Who felt it? She must be.
She swallowed a lump of apprehension. “You had no right to interfere.”
His grip tightened. “I had every right. Philip would expect me to protect his…fiancée.”
She ignored another insulting pause. “Danny’s just a boy. He was having some fun, that’s all.”
A cynical smile immediately twisted his lips. “He’s a young man who was almost having his way with you right there on the floor.” He shrugged. “But, hey, if that’s how you get your kicks, then maybe—”
“Shut up, Brant.”
For a moment it was hard to tell who was the more surprised, but then a satisfied light came into his blue eyes. “Hurrah! She said my name.”
Kia found herself exchanging a subtle look of amusement with him. Okay, so he’d won that small victory. She could allow him that, seeing he really had saved her from a possibly unpleasant situation.
“If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll talk to Danny on Monday,” he said. “For now, it’ll do him good to stew over the weekend. He needs to learn a lesson about not making a move on the boss’s woman.”
Which boss? she wanted to ask, a tingle running down her spine at the thought of being Brant’s woman. She grimaced. One of Brant’s women. “Thank you.”
There was a moment’s pause, then, “So congratulations are in order,” he said in a harsh voice that suddenly matched his eyes.
Unable to bring herself to say yes, she merely nodded.
“I’m surprised,” he continued. “Most women couldn’t have kept it a secret.”
“I’m not most women.”
“True.” But it didn’t sound like a compliment. His burning gaze slid down the column of her throat, to the necklace, and rested there for a moment. “Diamonds look good on you,” he said almost as if he disliked her for it. “Another expensive gift from Phillip?”
“Another?”
“As well as the Porsche.”
Good grief. Did he think Phillip had bought the car for her? She felt her cheeks redden. “Phillip did not give me the Porsche.”
His eyes flickered with surprise. “But he gave you the necklace, right?” His expression darkened, grew stormy. “He’s generous to a fault.”
The way he said it was as if Phillip was generous and she was at fault. For a moment she wondered what she’d ever done to this man—apart from not hopping into bed with him.
As for the necklace, how could she tell him she was giving it back to Phillip? He’d have to ask why. So let him think what he liked. He did anyway.
After that, he seemed to sense her withdrawal, because he remained quiet while they danced around the floor. Kia fought hard to concentrate on being angry with him, but the music was growing insistent, bringing his body against her own, each step sensuously rubbing leg against leg.
His hand rested on her hip, every movement making his palm slide a little up, a little down.
Up. Down.
Hot. Cool.
In. Out.
Oh, God.
“Are you all right?”
His husky words snapped Kia’s head back and she gazed into eyes that smoldered with awareness. Her heart lurched sideways, his magnetism so potent, so compelling that she could imagine him taking her right here and now in a raw act of possession that had everything to do with pure sex and erotic pleasure and nothing to do with reason. And he knew. Oh, yes, he knew, because that feeling was rushing through him, too. She could see it in his eyes. In every beat of his heart.
“It’s—” she moistened her lips “—a bit hot in here, that’s all,” she said, pretending it was the crowd of people on the dance floor affecting her, and not him. “Too many people wanting to let their hair down, I guess.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and the blue of his eyes darkened. Then he glanced up at the blond hair she’d put up for tonight. “Do you ever let your hair down, Kia?” he murmured.
What was he really asking? Whether she’d dare go to bed with him? Somehow, somewhere, she had to find the strength to pull herself out of this. If Phillip were here…
Of course!
Stronger now, she planted a cool smile on her lips. “Phillip’s really the only one I let my hair down for now.”
He tensed, a muscle ticking at his jaw. “Phillip didn’t seem himself tonight.”
She knew what he was implying. That Lynette’s presence had upset him. “He’s been doing too much this week.”
“Nothing else?”
Kia remembered the deciphering way Brant had looked at her and Phillip after Lynette had left and she felt a flutter of panic. “Maybe being the center of attention tonight was too much for him.”
“Perhaps.”
Everything had been crazy since the accident, and with Phillip having been told he’d have a permanent limp, she knew Brant couldn’t be sure that hadn’t been the problem tonight. She was banking on that to save her from further interrogation.
The music ended, and her heart skipped with relief when he let her slip from his arms without another word. He escorted her back to the table, fortunately without touching her, but she still resisted the urge to fan herself as she took her seat. One more dance with him and she’d have gone up in smoke.
“Are