ditched their wineglasses and led her onto the dance floor. There, he turned her into his arms.
The silk of her dress was supple and warm. Her hand was small in his. And their thighs brushed enticingly with the rhythm of the music.
They’d barely begun, and the song ended.
“That doesn’t count,” he rumbled in her ear.
“Are you making up the rules?” There was a smile in her voice.
He drew back to gaze at her. “My house, my rules.”
Happily, the next song was also a waltz. If he’d known he was going to meet Darci tonight, he’d have vetted the DJ’s entire playlist.
“You’re an autocrat?” she asked.
“Rarely.”
She settled back into his arms, smoothly following his lead. “At Colborn Aerospace. Are you in charge of everything?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Are you a tyrannical boss?”
He couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’d say no. But probably every tyrannical boss in the world would tell you no, so you’ll have to ask my staff.”
Her glance darted around the dance floor. “Are any of them here?”
“A few of the senior managers. You want me to introduce you?”
“No.” Her answer was quick and decisive.
“You don’t want to ask them about me?”
“I don’t care that much.”
“Okay.”
“I’m making up my own mind.”
He wanted that, he realized. He really wanted this woman to have a chance to make up her own mind about him. He found himself gathering her closer.
She resisted at first, going stiff in his arms.
But he persisted, and she eventually relaxed again. Her body softened against his, her curves molding to his angles. He drew their joined hands in close to their bodies, shifting his other palm higher, to the bare skin of her back. Their movements synced, and he couldn’t seem to keep his mind from wandering to a happy conclusion.
He wanted Darci Lake, wanted her very badly. He brought his cheek to her hair, inhaling a subtle scent of citrus. Her breasts had come up against his chest. Their thighs were touching, shifting together with every beat.
He gave in to temptation and kissed her hairline, whispering close to her ear. “I want you to stay tonight.”
She drew back in a shot, her striking green eyes blinking. She looked truly horrified, and he could have kicked himself.
Shane’s proposition was a dose of reality.
Darci realized she had truly lost her mind. Her common sense had fled while she was plastered shamelessly against him, swaying to the music. No wonder he thought she was coming on to him.
His expression faltered. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
But she was pretty sure it had come out exactly the way he’d meant it. And she was pretty sure she was the one to blame for leading him on.
“I meant for the rest of the party,” he said. “I don’t want you to leave before the end of the party.”
She took a half step back, telling herself she was here to spy on Shane Colborn, not to hook up with him. Even though hooking up with him seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea.
Okay, that had to be the wine talking.
He closed the space between them. “Please don’t stop dancing.”
She had to own up to her part in this. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”
He took her hand. “You didn’t.”
“We’ve only just met. I’m not... That is...”
He eased her into his arms, and she couldn’t bring herself to fight him.
“My bad,” he murmured, taking up the rhythm of the song.
She told herself to end the encounter and politely leave. She needed to regroup.
During a few bars of the music, she gathered her thoughts and then forced herself to speak. “Thank you for the tour of the wine cellar. I’m grateful that you took the time.”
There was a smile in his voice, and it broke the tension. “But not that grateful?”
His unexpected joke was disarming.
“I’m never that grateful,” she said.
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
“I’m not buying that you’re glad.”
He chuckled. “Let’s say I’m glad you’ve never been that grateful with any other guy.”
“You have an opinion on my personal life?”
“I do.”
“You do recall we met only two hours ago?”
He was silent for a moment, guiding them around the other couples on the crowded dance floor. “It seems like longer.”
“Are you bored?”
“Not even a little bit.” He drew back to gaze at her. “But I’m feeling oddly proprietary.”
She knew she had to change the direction of the conversation, but her curiosity won out over good sense. “In what way?”
He glanced around the big room. “I don’t want anyone else to dance with you.”
“I doubt they will.” She didn’t know anyone else here.
“I’m certain they will. That is, if I let you go.” He gathered her a little closer. “So, I’m not going to let you go.”
That truly shouldn’t sound like such a good idea.
“I don’t think that’s practical,” she said. “You’re the host.”
He gave a shrug. “My cousin is helping with hosting duties.”
“Isn’t she busy in the wine cellar?”
“We have a caterer and fantastic staff.”
“So, you
