Courting Danger. Kimberly Dean

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Courting Danger - Kimberly  Dean

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      ‘Do you have other coworkers attending?’ she asked. He was once again people-watching. His attention swung back to her. ‘You seem to be looking for someone,’ she explained.

      His expression clouded, and he rubbed his chin. ‘Sorry, I should pay more attention to you.’

      She shook her head. She was happy to just be along for the ride. ‘Conduct your business. I’m more than entertained.’

      ‘I shouldn’t be so obvious.’

      He wasn’t. Not really. Everyone was taking in the scenery and greeting one another. There was just an edginess to him, an alertness that hadn’t been there when they’d been at Luxxor. He apparently had important business to conduct, and that was fine.

      She didn’t need his attention on her any more than it already was. Her hand was warm from holding his arm, and the small of her back still tingled.

      ‘We should take our seats,’ Rielle murmured.

      The receiving line was getting close to an end, because the room was filling with guests. Each of them had an assigned seat. Theirs were at a table at the end, fortunately facing the rest of the room. They could see anything that might happen. Rielle felt another twinge of happiness when she found her name on a table tent, just like everyone else’s. The staff here knew their jobs. Not a detail had been missed, even with the late change in plans.

      She tucked the note into her purse. She was keeping it as a souvenir.

      Mel pulled back her chair and she sat down. When he took the chair next to her, he tangled with her dress again.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said, trying to pull in its volume.

      His hand settled on her leg under the table. ‘Leave it. It’s fine.’

      Heat rushed up her leg, and she stopped fussing. The woman seated to her right said hello, and Rielle stumbled over her own name. Her date watched her as he left his hand where it was, and her breaths turned unsteady. She placed her hand over his. His eyelids were heavy as he gave in, but before he let her go he gave a soft squeeze.

      ‘I like it.’

      The resulting tug of arousal was strong and hot and centred only inches from where his hand had lain. Rielle stiffened and tried not to stare when he opened a napkin across his lap.

      The President gave a short speech, in which she congratulated the Prince and his new bride on their marriage. Rielle tried hard to listen. It was hard to hear past the thumping in her ears. Intimacy was a thing of the past to her, but it was roaring back to life now.

      At last dinner was served, and she concentrated on her table manners. It was a delicious five-course meal, filled with Swedish cuisine. Through it all, her date was charming. He spoke to her and others at the table, but she sensed the precise moment that his attention split. By dessert, she’d begun to study him. He was discreet, but he was definitely watching somebody. A business rival? A coworker he didn’t like?

      Because the air around him was not easy-going any more.

      She frowned and finished her Prinsesstårta dessert. It was truly none of her business. She doubted anyone else noticed, but she’d felt the full force of his personality.

      He was looking for someone – or watching someone.

      She let her gaze wander over the nearby tables. He wasn’t being overt. It took her several minutes before she determined it was a beautiful brunette seated at a table near the middle of the room. He didn’t stare outright, yet his gaze kept returning to the exotic-looking woman over and over again.

      Jealousy immediate shot through Rielle.

      There was no basis for it. She had no claim on him. She worked at an escort service. He’d needed a date on his arm, and she was merely stepping in to help out. Yet her movements were jerky as she folded her linen napkin.

      The festivities soon moved to the East Room for the evening’s entertainment. A popular singer was performing, reportedly one of the Prince’s favourites. He started with some of his recent hits and then slowed it down with some classic romantic ballads. The dancefloor began to fill, and Rielle was surprised when Mel caught her hand.

      ‘Let’s dance.’

      Her eyes widened. Yet another surprise to the evening. She followed him to the floor and moved into the proper dance hold.

      He tugged her closer until their bodies touched. ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘You’ve gone quiet, and you’re not excited any more. I can feel it.’

      Her lashes fluttered downwards. She wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings.

      ‘Did you not like me touching you?’

      Her lashes flicked right back up. Not like it? Even now, his body was pressed against hers as they moved in time with the music. He felt big and muscled against her, warm and inviting.

      ‘No. That was…fine.’

      ‘Fine?’

      Warmth crept up her neck. More than fine.

      Swaying in time with the music, she could feel the flow of his body. The play of sinew and warm flesh. He was holding her so closely that her nipples were hardening. When she and he turned, his thigh brushed intimately between hers, and her body threw off another crazy reaction. No, she was not averse to him touching her.

      ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘You were the one who was invited to this. I’m trying not to get in your way.’

      ‘Good,’ he said quietly. ‘Because I’m having trouble keeping my hands off you.’

      She bit her lip. ‘It’s the dress.’

      He swung her out of the way of an advancing couple on the dancefloor. ‘It’s not the dress – but it sure isn’t helping.’

      Pleasure worked its way through her, and she softened against him. The song ended, but they barely broke stride as the singer started another. She felt his fingers moving on her waist, and it was all she could do not to slide her hand from his shoulder to his chest.

      Pressed against him so intimately, she felt the tension when it entered his body yet again.

      Her head was practically on his shoulder, but she peeked behind her to see what had captured his attention this time.

      It was the brunette.

      Rielle stopped dancing, ice suddenly running through her veins. ‘Who is she?’

      His head snapped towards her. ‘Who?’

      ‘The dark-haired woman.’

      She started to point, but he grabbed her hand and swung her back into the dance. Rielle didn’t want to make a scene, but she refused to help him if he was harassing another woman. ‘You’ve been staring at her all evening. Are you stalking her?’

      ‘Stalking

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