her surprise, he dug his fingers into the back of her neck and dragged her forward. Frowning, she stiffened her arms.
“Dean, please!”
“Dammit, Allie, don’t do that! Don’t freeze up on me again.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” she said evenly. “Let me go.”
“Not this time,” he growled, his breath hot and smoky with Scotch. “I’ve been dancing to your tune for months now. Every time I try to get close, you poker up or turn away. What’s with you, Allie? What kind of game are you playing with me?”
“I don’t play games, with you or anyone else.”
“The hell you don’t. What else would you call it when you put on that beautiful come-hither face, then pull back every time I try to touch you?”
Wedging her arms against his chest, Allie fought to keep her voice steady. Although she’d inherited a fair share of her grandmother’s fire, along with her hair, she’d long ago learned to hide her own emotions behind the smiling facade the public wanted to see.
“I’ve told you repeatedly. I like you…as a friend. I enjoy your company…as an escort. But I’m not going to go to bed with you.”
“Why not?”
He sounded so aggrieved, so much like a sulky teen denied the use of the family car, that she had to smile. “Because I don’t want to, Dean.”
As soon as the words were out, Allie recognized their truth. Her smile slipped a little.
The sad fact was, she hadn’t wanted to in a long time. Too long. With Dean or anyone else. Not since she’d discovered that men in general, and her former fiancé in particular, were far more taken with Allison Fortune’s face and money than with Allison Fortune herself. That rather humbling experience hadn’t totally turned her off either sex or men. She just hadn’t yet found a man who could see past her glamorous public image to the private woman within.
Dean Hansen was a case in point. Instead of accepting her blunt admission that she wasn’t looking for an affair when they first met, he’d taken it as a personal challenge. Every time she flew home to visit her family and agreed to dinner or a movie with him, he’d tried to tease and flatter her into having sex with him. Now, apparently, he’d run out of flattery.
His mouth twisting, he used his hold on her neck to drag her face a few inches from his own. “You don’t want to, huh? Maybe I should make you want to.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t. Let me go, Dean.”
“I don’t think so. Not this time.”
“Yes.” She ground out the word. “This time!”
He wasn’t expecting the sharp elbow jab to his stomach. His breath whooshed out, and his hold slackened enough for Allie to wrench free. She stepped back a few paces, holding on to her temper by a thread.
“Get out of here,” she told him coldly. “Don’t come back to the party. You’re no longer welcome.”
She turned to head back to the house. When his hand wrapped around her upper arm again, Allie’s temper slipped its tight reins. Whirling, she planted both palms against his chest and shoved.
Taken by surprise, Hansen stumbled backward, his arms windmilling wildly. Too late, Allie saw that the combination of Scotch and his own momentum was going to take him into the lake. In his inebriated condition, the fool would probably drown.
“Oh, for—!” She jumped forward, grabbing for his jacket lapels. “Dean, watch out!”
Frantically he snatched at her. His hand snagged one of the thin straps holding up her tank dress. The strap dug into her shoulder, then snapped. With a comical look of surprise on his face and a swatch of lemon chiffon clutched in one fist, Dean splashed into the lake.
His uncoordinated entry sent a wave of cold water splashing over Allie. Moments later, his clumsy, cursing exit added considerably to her drenched state. By the time she’d helped him clamber back onto the grassy bank, her irritation had given way to the sense of the ridiculous that helped her through long, exhausting shoots, when everything that could possibly go wrong did. Biting her lower lip to contain her smile, she held her soggy dress up with one hand while Dean tried to swipe thick, oozing mud off his face and hands.
Her escort didn’t appear to share her humor at the situation. Cursing, he shook his hands to fling off the mud, then advanced on her, his blond hair straggling down his forehead. In the pale moonlight, his eyes glittered with fury.
“You little…”
“I’d suggest you take a hike before you end up in the lake again. This time permanently.”
The deep, drawling voice spun both Dean and Allie around. Peering through the darkness, she spotted a shadowy figure lounging against a tall, silver-barked river oak.
Shoving his wet hair out of his eyes, Dean glared at the shadowy figure. “Who the hell—?”
“You’ve got about ten seconds to get out of here, pal.”
“Look, pal…”
“Yes?”
The combination of polite inquiry and deadly menace in the single syllable made Allie blink and Dean’s cheeks puff up like a blowfish. Indignant but more wary now, he tried to bluster it out.
“This is a private conversation.”
Levering his shoulders away from the trunk, the intruder strolled into the wash of moonlight. Allie drew in a quick breath as she identified the gaudy collage of red and orange and purple.
“According to the lady, the conversation’s over,” the stranger offered casually. “I make it about five seconds now.”
“Who is this character, Allie?”
Since she had no idea, she ignored the question. “I think you should leave, Dean. Now.”
His jaw worked for a few seconds. Then the stranger sauntered forward, with a coiled, controlled economy of movement that sent the bigger man back a pace.
“Fine,” Dean snarled. “I’m leaving. It’s time I found a real woman to spend my time with instead of a plastic-faced doll, anyway.”
Neither Allie nor the man beside her said a word as Hansen stalked off, his shoes squishing lake water at each step. With his departure, the summer night settled around them like a cloak. Only this time, Allie wasn’t conscious of the wavelets lapping against the banks or the chirping cicadas. This time, the man before her absorbed her entire attention.
His eyes a pale silver in the moonlight, he surveyed her with the same dispassionate objectivity he’d displayed earlier. Once more, he measured her from head to toe, only this time his gaze lingered on parts in between.
Belatedly Allie realized that her gauzy tank dress was plastered to her like a second skin. Since Dean had taken a good chunk of its bodice into the lake with him, she could only hope that her bikini panties and scrap of a bra concealed more than they revealed. She
