The music became almost a dull silence as her eyes shifted to see the gorgeous Michael Maddox walking with long strides toward his sister at the bar. The mere sight of him made her body tense.
She kept her eyes on Michael as James moved them around on the dance floor, her body feeling as limp as a rag dolls. Michael folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, staring at his sister.
She watched as Julia began waving her phone in front of Michael before jabbing him in the chest with it. Then Julia broke free and stormed toward Kate.
“Everything okay?” Kate asked. She took the chance to break free from James’s grasp and turned to face Julia.
“Yeah. I just forgot I was supposed to be having dinner with my brother.” She rolled her eyes. “He tracked my phone to find me—he’s a bit overprotective.”
“Oh.” It’s kind of sweet he was worried, Kate thought as she snuck another glimpse of Michael. His back was turned against them, and he was talking with the slim but chesty bartender. A strange pang of jealousy stabbed at her gut.
“James, I think I’m gonna grab a drink. Maybe you and Julia could dance?”
“Sure,” he responded, reaching for Julia’s waist.
Happy to have secured a rescue, Kate made her way to the bar. She pressed her hands against the somewhat sticky bar counter and waited for the male bartender to notice her. The female bartender who had been speaking with Michael moments ago was now taking an order from someone else.
“You go dancing a lot?”
Kate shut her eyes for a brief moment. “Yes, I love dancing.” She turned toward the man who had infiltrated her dreams the past few nights. “You look different,” she remarked. An underdressed Michael was no less sexy than business-casual Michael. In fact, he looked even more appealing in jeans and a T-shirt. His tanned biceps swelled beneath the short shirt sleeves, and she was dying to touch them.
Why do you have to be so sexy?
His eyes focused a touch too long on her glossy lips before he spoke. “We should dance. People know me here. I’m just thinking of your well-being. If you want to dance in peace, dance once with me.”
“You’re so sure of yourself? What if I don’t want other men to leave me alone?” she challenged.
He tilted his head toward the dance floor and scoffed. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the masses.
Both men and women were staring as they moved to the music. Kate knew the women must be green with envy. They were no doubt dying to get their hands on the Man of Steel lookalike. And yet, here she was with him—the one man she should be avoiding right now.
Kate glanced over at Julia and mouthed an apology to her—she didn’t want Julia to think she was hitting on her brother. Julia just smiled back and continued dancing with James. Whew. She didn’t look mad. But the heated look James was directing toward Kate was somewhat unsettling.
“You have an incredible body. A dancer’s body?” Michael asked in a low voice as they moved closer to one another.
Her heartbeat did a cowboy quickstep as he reached for her and held her as if he owned her. Somehow, having Michael’s rock hard body pressed against her was more than okay. “I danced pretty much all my life,” she replied as he touched her back, moving her closer to him.
There was a shift in the mood of the room as the music changed to a low tempo beat. The sound of the drums through the speakers thumped in her ears, matching the pounding of her heart. Michael kept his eyes on hers as their bodies collided against each other in rhythmic movement to the music.
She breathed in his intoxicating smell, growing dizzy with desire. Please don’t fall for this guy.
“You okay?” Michael pulled away.
“Yeah, I just . . . you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched?” Her thoughts, scrambling, had landed on the only other thing on her mind—the creepy text she’d gotten the other day.
“I’m sure a lot of guys in here are watching you, Kate.” He reached for her waist in an almost protective manner.
“No, not like that. I mean . . . never mind. Sorry.” Her cheeks burst red, as bright as fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“Is someone bothering you?” His eyes narrowed, and he began scanning the room.
“What? Um . . . no.” She took a step back. “I should get going. My hotel is not too far.”
“Come on, I’ll take you.” He placed his hand on her forearm. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk alone.” He shook his head. “No way.”
Kate stared at him with wide eyes. “Relax. I don’t need a babysitter.” Or do I? The image from the text flashed into her mind again. But she was too stubborn to take Michael up on his offer, despite her nerves. He removed his hand from her arm, and she felt a few degrees cooler without his touch. She resisted the urge to stay with him, and instead approached Julia. “I’m gonna get going. I’m tired, and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.” Julia was dancing with someone new—Kate didn’t see James anywhere. She had no desire to say goodbye to him, anyway.
“Okay, well, thanks for coming out.” Julia air-kissed Kate on the cheek and Kate left the dance floor.
Michael caught her arm. “Please, don’t be stubborn.”
“Hey baby,” a cute blonde said as she approached Michael.
Seriously? Seeing the blonde served to remind Kate why Michael had to remain a client only. Not only was he a risk to her professionalism, but he didn’t do relationships. And Kate didn’t have casual sex. They’d be at an impasse.
“I gotta go,” she said, turning her back on the scene. As she reached the door, Kate gave one last look at the club. She saw the blonde place her hands on Michael’s chest. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly as she exhaled her nervous energy and left. Client. Client. Client. She said the mantra over and over in her head, hoping she would come to her senses.
Two blocks later, Kate was analyzing a pair of street signs. “Shit,” she said to herself. She had walked the wrong direction. She began to backtrack toward the club, which was now on the way to the hotel, wishing she wasn’t wearing stilettos.
“Hey.”
She turned around to find James. She wanted to feel relieved that it was someone she knew, but somehow she didn’t. “Hi. You decide to leave early, too?” She gave him a polite smile. His eyes darkened, and he took a few steps closer to her. A little too close. She could smell the booze on his breath. Relax. He is a friend of Julia’s.
“I was hoping you and I could get to know each other a little better.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
His touch was too intimate for her. “Sure. We can talk at the fundraiser next weekend,” Kate offered.
“How about now?” he proposed, placing a hand on her hip.
Kate jerked backward. “I need to get going.” Her blue-green eyes lit with distrust.
He didn’t look convinced. “Come on—let’s just have a drink together. My condo is a block away, with a great view of the city. I’d love to show you.” He touched her face with the back of his hand, and she inhaled. “I won’t bite. I promise.” He leaned in closer, and she turned her head.
“I’m beat and just want to get back to my hotel.” She looked up and down the street, hoping to find a witness, but the sidewalks were empty. The nightclub, tucked away around the corner, was just out of view.
“You should probably back off.”
Oh, thank God. Kate looked up at Michael. With crossed arms and tight lips, he glared at James, the shadows across his face resembling those of a certain caped superhero. If she weren’t so nervous, she would have found the image almost comical.
James attempted to match Michael’s stance, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up toward Michael, who stood a couple of inches taller. “Are you her keeper?”
“You need to go,” Michael demanded. “And I suggest you skip the party next weekend, as well,” he warned.
James looked at Kate and back at Michael. He rolled his
eyes and stepped away. “See you around, sweetheart,” he said before walking off.
Kate tilted her head back and exhaled the breath she had been holding, relieved that the stand-off was over. “Thanks. I guess I should’ve accepted your invitation to walk me home.” If only so I wouldn’t get lost, she thought as her subconscious scowled at her.
He nodded in agreement, and she pointed down the street. “I’m that way.” She looked up at the sliver of the moon in the sky as they walked. “So, um, who was that girl at the club?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she was curious.
“No one important,” he responded, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.
“Thanks again for agreeing to host the party next weekend. You made your sister over-the-top happy.”
He remained silent and kept his eyes on the street.
“This is me.” She stopped outside the double door entry of her hotel and looked up at him. “Would you like a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you for rescuing me.” What are you thinking, Kate? She couldn’t let him in her hotel room—there was a bed in there.
“Sure.”
Although he agreed, Kate felt like Michael was almost . . . nervous. His jaw ticked, and his chest inflated a little beneath his shirt. When she saw the way his eyes swept down her body and up again, she realized it wasn’t nerves, but something else that was lurking beneath his somewhat cold exterior.
When they entered her suite, and she remembered the bed was in another room, the nervous knot in her stomach weakened. She slipped off her uncomfortable heels, pulled her hair in a ponytail, and approached the bar by the window.
Michael looked around the room, which wasn’t as lavish as might be expected. The furniture was minimalistic, and the room was almost boring, as it was decorated in various shades of gray. The only thing that brightened the room was a vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Let me help,” he offered.
“Merlot okay?” she asked.
“Sure.” Her arm brushed against his as she moved away from the bar. The slightest contact sent waves of desire coursing through her. She took a seat on a dark gray loveseat and crossed her legs at her ankles, careful to keep the hem of her dress modestly low. She stared at Michael as he poured the wine, appreciating how good his backside looked in well-worn blue jeans.
When he turned toward her, armed with two glasses of wine, her heart slammed against her ribcage. He stood still for a moment, just holding the glasses and staring at her mouth.
What? Oh. She was biting her lip again.
He moved toward her and sat down.
She raised her glass in the air, wishing the loveseat was a little bigger. She was far too close to him. “Um—cheers.” She knew the man had a reputation as a womanizer, but she was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t his fault . . . maybe women just threw themselves at him.
He took a sip of his wine. “You think you’ll be able to pull off this party by next Saturday?”
“I hope. Your sister is counting on me.” She looked down into her wine glass. “So, do you like being a venture capitalist? Do you miss running your old business?”
He set his glass down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m involved in running many businesses now. It’s exciting bringing someone’s business idea or product to life. I never had any intention of creating my own business when I got out of the military, you know. I had ideas—a lot of ideas, and I needed help.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and repositioned himself on the couch to get a better view of Kate.
She studied him, curious if he could tell how much she wanted him. She hoped not. Client! “You didn’t want to become rich?” Her dimples deepened as her lips curved into a smile.
He returned her smile and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t plan on selling my inventions to the military. I would’ve given them away. But to get my ideas from, well, an idea to a product, I needed capital. And investors want to make a profit.” He reached for his glass and took a sip of the Merlot. “After some time, I realized I couldn’t morally justify selling my inventions anymore. They were saving lives. Catching terrorists. The original investors offered me a chance to sell my share of the company to them.”
“And that’s when you decided to use the money to help veterans?”
He nodded.
“You’re amazing.” She didn’t mean to say that aloud.
He cocked his head to the side, and a smile slipped to his lips. “That’s what I think about you.”
She took in a nervous breath and almost yelped at the sound of her phone beeping, alerting her to a text. “Excuse me.” She rose to her feet and walked over to her purse, which she had chucked by the door.
“Everything okay?”
She dropped the phone back into her bag, her hand trembling. “Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “It’s—it’s actually my birthday today, and I just got a birthday message is all.”
“Really? Happy Birthday. Julia didn’t tell me.”
“She doesn’t know.” Kate walked toward the wall of windows by the bar and folded her arms.
“You sure you’re okay?” He stood up and approached her, wine still in hand. He touched her shoulder, guiding her to face him, before tilting her chin up.
She prayed he wouldn’t see her pain. “I don’t ever celebrate my birthday,” she admitted.
“You don’t like getting old, huh?” He released his hand from her face and tipped the remaining contents of his wine glass into his mouth. “How old are you today?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Well, you should at least continue celebrating your birthday until you get to be as old as me.”
“And you are?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Oh—you’re ancient.”
He grinned at her and glanced toward the windows. “What’s going on? For real?”
She brought her hand to her lip and bit her thumb. Was she going to tell him? Somehow, she couldn’t find it in her to stop.
“My mom died giving birth to me, so I feel like I’d be celebrating her death if I partied on my birthday.” She looked back out the window, not wanting to see pity, which was the normal response delivered to her upon hearing her story.
After a moment, he spoke, his voice soft. “What happened?”
Where do I even begin? She shook her head, and her eyebrows quirked in surprise—who would have thought, three days ago, that she would be opening up to Michael Maddox?
“My mom was a student at UNCC. She got pregnant her junior year. She was due in October, but apparently some problems developed, and they had to do an emergency C-Section. She lost a lot of blood. Too much.” She cleared her throat and attempted to block the threat of tears. “My dad doesn’t want me in Charlotte. He hates the place because of what happened to my mom.”
“I can understand that.” He walked away from her and sat back down on the couch. “He lost the woman he loved. It can’t be easy for him.”
Kate turned around and looked at Michael. He was leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees with his eyes on the floor. He seemed . . . different.
“I was ten years old before he brought me to Charlotte. I never saw him cry until that day.”
“It’s hard losing someone,” he said with a deep voice.
Kate studied Michael for a beat. His mood had definitely changed. The warmth that had radiated from him before, when he heated her body with his gaze, was gone.
He was stone cold—steel.
“I should get some sleep,” she whispered, feeling too heavy to speak anymore.
“You gonna be okay?” He stood up and moved toward her before touching her cheek with the back of his hand. The soft gesture didn’t match the now dark look in his eyes.
“You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t know me.”
The muscle in his jaw strained as he withdrew his hand from her face.
She moved back to the windows and looked out, arms crossed. “Goodnight, Michael,” she said as their ey
es met in the reflection of the glass.
“Happy Birthday.”
And then he left.
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