Bachelor Unclaimed. Brenda Jackson

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      If he thinks he’s getting any information out of me, he’s as crazy as he is bold, Ainsley thought, taking another sip of her water. And where was the waitress? She needed that margarita right now. Up close the man was simply gorgeous and each time he spoke she could feel her stomach quivering.

      “What makes you think I’m not from here?” she asked, feeling pleasure radiating through her traitorous body. The man had a sexual magnetism that was slowly drawing her in, eroding her resistance. And he smelled so darn good. She was tempted to ask him what cologne he was wearing.

      “Lucky guess,” he said, reclaiming her attention.

      She glanced around for a waitress before returning her gaze to him. When their eyes locked, her pulse rate increased. She swallowed deeply before saying, “I take that to mean you’re from Hilton Head.”

      “No, I’m not.”

      “Then where are you from?” she inquired, trying to see if she could decipher his accent. There was enough of a Southern drawl to let her know he was from the South. Possibly Tennessee or Texas.

      “I asked you first.”

      And she had no intention of telling him. She doubted he’d ever heard of Claxton, New Jersey, but still, he might begin asking questions for conversational purposes and she didn’t want to talk about her hometown. “And I’m not talking,” she said, glancing away. His eyes were too mesmerizing. They were like a magnet, pulling her in.

      At that moment a waitress appeared. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What will you guys have?”

      “I want a margarita,” she said.

      “Please make that two margaritas but hold them until later,” Winston added.

      Ainsley frowned when the waitress walked off. “Excuse me, but I want my drink now.”

      “We’re about to do something else now.”

      She tilted her head and tried steadying her heart rate which wasn’t easy. “And just what do you think we’re about to do?”

      “Dance. You said you’re not talking so I figured we’ll dance first.”

      Ainsley leaned back in her chair. “And what makes you think I want to dance?”

      A smile touched his lips. “I know you want to dance because I noticed you were tapping your feet to the music and even rocking your body a little.”

      He’d noticed all of that? Jeez, the man was too observant. “I don’t need a partner to dance.”

      “True, but what fun would dancing alone be?”

      At that moment the band struck up another number and a rush of people hurriedly moved to the dance floor. “Come on,” he said, standing and extending his hand out to her. “Let’s dance.”

      She glanced down at his hand. Should she? She had come here to loosen up on the dance floor. Besides, it was a fast number and their bodies wouldn’t even touch.

      “Unless …”

      Ainsley lifted a brow. “Unless what?”

      He smiled. “Unless you think you’ll embarrass us both out there,” he said.

      She knew he was only baiting her, but still, she didn’t take too kindly to his assertion. If anything, she could probably show him up. In addition to taking dancing classes all her life, she’d also worked part-time as a dancer at a hot spot in New York City, earning extra money while she’d attended journalism school at Columbia University.

      She placed her hand in his and the moment their hands touched, she felt her nerve endings ignite. She looked up and met his eyes. It was as if he was staring straight into her soul, seeing things she didn’t want anyone to see, especially a stranger. Specifically, she didn’t want anyone to know how painful losing the election had been to her.

      “Red?”

      The man called Winston reclaimed her attention and she fought to ignore the heat sizzling through her veins. The attraction she felt to him was unsettling and she was tempted to pull away her hand but couldn’t.

      Ainsley stood, tilting her head and meeting his gaze directly. “I’m not afraid of embarrassing you, Winston,” she finally responded, saying his name for the first time. “Lead the way.”

      He lightly tugged on her hand and they moved toward the dance floor. He indicated he wasn’t from here and she couldn’t help wondering what had brought him to Hilton Head. Was he here trying to escape his troubles like she was, or was he here just to have a good time? She’d glanced at his left hand earlier and noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring, nor was there any indication one had recently been on his finger.

      When he stopped on the dance floor, she faced him and saw they were standing under the bright lights. The music was lively and funky. The rhythm flowed through her, making her body instinctively move to the beat. She put her all into it.

      She noted the surprised look on his face and threw back her head and laughed. Served him right for insinuating she would embarrass him on the dance floor. He laughed as well and then he surprised her when he joined her in the dance, his muscled thighs and broad chest moving in a way that made her insides sizzle. How could such a masculine body move with such grace, style and unfaltering virility? Out of nowhere she remembered hearing that a man who was good on his feet was probably good in bed.

      The thought made her nipples harden against her dress and when he eased closer to her and rubbed those muscular thighs against hers, she felt desire flow through her bloodstream, drenching her pores. He continued to surprise her with his dance moves. It seemed they were even. He had pulled one on her, as well.

      Ainsley didn’t have to be an onlooker to know they danced great together and they looked good as a couple on the dance floor. The room was noisy, the music loud, but none of that mattered. The only thing that attracted her full attention was Winston. She wasn’t even sure that was his real name but she would take him at his word. Yet she had no intention of sharing her name with him. If he wanted to continue to call her Red, that was fine with her.

      Feeling somewhat feisty she deliberately brushed her body against his. In response, he leaned in close and whispered the words “Naughty Red” in her ear, sending hot waves through her and making a deep longing flare up between her legs. When he moved back to make a turn around the floor, their eyes connected and his penetrating gaze seared her.

      She fought for breath when the dance came to an end and he bowed gracefully to her and she smiled. It had been quite a workout. She was about to go back to her table when he captured her hand and asked, “Another?”

      Ainsley should have had the mind to decline and return to her seat, especially when the musicians began playing a slow number. Instead she nodded and he gently pulled her into his arms.

      She automatically placed her head on his shoulder, not wanting to think about anything but what was happening to her. She had just completed a fast dance with a very handsome, virile and sexy man and now she was on the dance floor in his embrace as their bodies swayed to a slow number.

      He tightened his arms around her, bringing her closer to him, and she felt all the

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