she’s off limits. She has a kid.” Maybe. Probably.
“So?”
“So, you don’t do mothers.”
“Always a first time for everything.”
Irritation nearly choked him. “You’ll have to pick someone else.”
West arched a brow at him. “You staking a claim?”
“No.” He didn’t do mothers, either. Hell, he didn’t even do commitment. With so many options on the buffet, there was no reason to settle for a single entrée. He would never be like his father, making promises to one woman while lusting after another.
Always better to keep his options open.
“I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he said. “Consider me on big-brother duty and drop it.”
A bark of laughter sounded. “You? Looking out for a woman’s feelings?”
“It’s not that hard to believe.”
“You forget how long I’ve known you. I’ve witnessed the pulverization of your business rivals. I’ve watched you send your assistants into hysterics with a single look, and your dates into bouts of tears with a single word. You, my friend, are what’s called an asshat.”
“And you seriously suck.”
Jada, Dane’s companion for the evening, returned from the bathroom. “You ready to go, baby?” She scraped her nails down the center of his tie, a promise of things to come.
Go? His gaze snagged on Kenna—again. She was dressed like the servers, only the outfit was particularly indecent on her, her every dramatic curve on display. Curves that her scarf couldn’t hide. But despite the boldness of her dress choice, she appeared almost...shy as she conversed with those around her. Definitely awkward.
When she thought no one was looking, she would bend down and rub her feet. Blisters? When she walked the room after standing for a bit, she would teeter on her high heels. And her smile was clearly fake, practiced rather than natural. A few times, she’d hidden behind potted plants. And yet, when single men leered at her and presented her with a phone number on a napkin, she displayed no surprise or feminine affront, just accepted the “gift” and said something to make the male laugh—before discreetly disposing of the napkin later on.
The contrasts of her intrigued him.
West was right. She couldn’t be a man-eater.
“Dane.” Jada stepped in front of him. “Are you listening to me? I asked if you were ready to go.”
“Not yet.”
She stood on her tiptoes and whispered, “Even though I’m so hot for you my panties are melting?”
He patted her hand, tried for a charming tone. “Even though.”
“Dane,” she said, stiffening. “You’ve barely even looked in my direction this whole night.”
“I’m just certain that’s not true,” he replied—his gaze still fixed on Kenna.
Jada reached up to touch his face, but he jerked away before contact. Scowling at her, he said, “You know better.”
Paling, she dropped her arm to her side.
West patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to your...yeah.” Off he went—directly to Kenna. The two chatted easily for a bit, and with a quick, unrepentant smile thrown in Dane’s direction, West wrote something on a napkin and handed it to her. His number, no doubt about it.
Bastard.
Dane tossed back his champagne and placed the empty glass on a passing tray. He wanted Kenna out of his mind. And he could think of only one way to make that happen. Apologize, as planned, concluding their business.
Easy enough.
“You’ll be fine without me for a few minutes,” he told Jada. It was a command, not a question.
She latched on to his wrist. “But, bay-bee.”
He hated when she drew out the word like that. Added an intimacy to their relationship that wasn’t really there. Yes, they’d slept together. Yes, they would sleep together again. But that’s all they had, all he wanted.
“I’m here to spend time with you,” she said. “No other reason. I’m ready for us to get closer, reach the next level.”
Scratch that. They wouldn’t be sleeping together again. Wanting more had always been, and would always be, the final nail in any of his romantic involvements. He’d be ending things with Jada tonight.
He pried her loose and with a muttered, “Stay,” took off, closing in on Kenna.
Along the way, person after person stepped into his path. At first, he was polite. Chatted a bit before excusing himself, all the while watching the object of his fascination. She’d been uncomfortable and distant most of the night, but now, as she spoke with a beautiful blonde server, different emotions played over her features. Amusement. Delight. Irritation. Longing.
The longing made his chest ache.
Why?
By the fifth interruption, he was downright rude, snapping, “I don’t care,” and stalking away with determination. Anyone who’d ever spent any time with him knew about his volatile temper, and expected it.
Finally he reached his prey. Close enough to smell the sweetness of her perfume. He breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of vanilla and sugar; some primitive part of him seemed to stretch and wake up, insisting he grab her and cart her away. To bed. Now. Before she got away.
To bed? Hell, no. Where had that come from?
Get this over with. She’d moved on from the server and was now speaking with Bart Chumley, the middle-aged, recently divorced owner of the two biggest gas stations in Strawberry Valley.
“—so kind of you to offer, but I have to work,” she said. “Not to mention school.”
She was a student? What did she study? And why wasn’t she done? She was...twenty-three now, he thought.
Chumley had trouble looking higher than her succulent chest. “You’re breaking my heart here, Kenna. Surely there’s a day that you’re free.”
“I’m scouring my mental calendar,” she said, “but I’m telling you, all the dates are full.”
“Kenna, honey,” Dane said, his low, intimate tone at odds with the murderous glare he directed at Bart. She’s going to be a part of my family, and I protect what’s mine—don’t make another play for her.
The male must not have understood the implied threat, because he brightened. “Mr. Michaelson! It’s an honor, sir. I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk with you. You see, I’ve got this idea, and I knew you’d be perfect for...”
His
