“Look around. Do you see anyone else wearing an outfit like that?”
“It’s not office wear.”
He seemed a little glazed and frantic. For a second she allowed herself to believe he found her sexy. Wouldn’t that be nice?
“You’re killing me,” he muttered.
She smiled. “That’s so lovely. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, the guy at the hardware store called me about the set.”
“What? Why would he call you?”
“Because Charlie told him to. She has this idea that you don’t know squat about construction.”
“I don’t, but it’s my responsibility anyway.” She was going to make sure her students weren’t disappointed.
“Yeah, well, now I’m going to help, too. I thought we could go look at the sets together, and I’ll put together a list of what needs doing.”
She took a step back. “No, thanks. I appreciate the offer, but no.”
“Why not?”
“Because, um, you’re busy.” Lame, but it was better than the truth. She wasn’t willing to risk getting sucked in. Dante was pretty tempting. Handsome, funny, interesting. Sexy. Hard to resist.
“Why not?” he repeated.
She sighed. “You’re my brother’s business partner. I’m not looking to get more involved with my family. We have a long, complicated history. I won’t bore you with it, but believe me when I say, stay far, far away.”
He studied her. “Interesting. A mystery. I love a good mystery.”
“Don’t be intrigued. I’m a seriously boring person. You’re sweet to offer, but no. I’ll do it myself.”
His phone rang. He swore quietly. “I have to take this call, but our conversation isn’t over.”
He couldn’t be more wrong, she thought, giving a cheerful wave and hurrying away. Dante was a complication she didn’t need and couldn’t afford. Him being nice would make staying away more difficult, but even more necessary.
* * *
THE OFFICE CLEARED OUT a little after five. Dante kept working. Right on time, the thudding of clog-clad feet pounded above his head. He turned off his computer and ducked out while he could. But an hour later he returned and made his way upstairs. Evie was turning out the lights in the studio, obviously done for the night.
She turned and looked at him, her expression slightly guarded. He took in her bulky sweatshirt and fitted jeans, and raised his eyebrows.
“You changed.”
She pointed at him. “You did, too.”
“I don’t think my suit would get the same reaction as your work clothes.”
“I don’t know,” she told him. “I do love a man in a tie.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“You make it easy.”
Her eyes were big and green, with dark lashes. He would guess she wasn’t wearing much in the way of makeup, which was fine by him. He liked women in all shapes and sizes. From high-maintenance divas to the most casual of tree-huggers.
“I’m going to help you with the sets,” he said. “You can accept gracefully or you can fight me, but in the end, I’ll win. I always win.”
“Doing your civic duty?”
“Helping out a friend.”
He liked her. She was Rafe’s sister. As for the way she looked in dance clothes, that was his problem alone. He knew better than to go down dangerous paths.
He thought briefly of his mother, how she would have liked Evie and adored the little girls who danced. His mother had wanted so much more than the hardscrabble life she’d been forced to deal with. She’d wanted him to be a success. She would be happy about that, too.
Knowing her, she would accept the price she’d had to pay to get him on the right road. Something he could never accept or forgive in himself. He supposed that made her the better person. Hardly a surprise.
“It’s Christmas,” he said. “Think of this as me getting in the spirit.”
“You don’t like Christmas spirit.”
“Maybe helping you will change my mind.” He shrugged. “You know you can’t do it alone. Accept the inevitable and say thank you.”
She drew in a breath. “I know I can’t do it alone, and for what it’s worth, I trust you.”
“I think there’s a compliment buried in there.”
“There is. Thank you.”
He smiled. “Was that so hard?”
“You have no idea.”
“Then while you’re still wrestling with your personal growth, let me add, your brother invited me to Thanksgiving dinner.” He braced himself for her rant.
“Good. I was hoping for a big crowd.”
Unexpected, he thought. “Should I ask why?”
“No. You should assume I’m just one of those friendly types who loves humanity.”
“Your recent resistance to me helping aside.” He leaned against her desk.
“Yes.”
“And your feelings on humanity?”
“Okay in small groups.” She held up a piece of paper. “I was visited earlier by one of the moms. Patience. She swears there really can be a work party to restore my sets.”
“Good. We’ll make the list of what needs fixing and get it organized.”
He studied her. From what he could tell, she wore her hair up for her lessons—two braids wrapped around her head. But now, with her work done for the day, she’d left it loose. Wavy strands of honey-blond hair fell past her shoulders and halfway down her back.
He would bet she had soft hair, he thought, imagining her bending over him. He could practically feel the cool silk in his fingers. She would be all muscle, he thought absently. Long legs. Incredibly flexible.
“Dante?”
He blinked himself back into the room. “Sorry.”
She tilted her head, her mouth curving into a smile. “Want to tell me where you went?”
“Nope.”
