Her mouth dropped open.
Malcolm frowned at him. “Actually, we’re just—”
“Thanks.” He took her hand from Malcolm’s and tugged her away, not caring about the open-mouthed doctor. Then he pulled her so close that her body was flush with his. Andfuck, she was soft and warm.
Malcolm made a loud, exaggerated huff before walking away.
“What are you doing?” she asked quietly, shock weaved into her words.
“Dancing with you.”
She cocked her head. “Okay, but why?”
Her floral scent lingered in the air, surrounding him. And the feel of her sweet curves beneath his palm and her warm hand in his other…it made him want to hold her tighter.
“Because I want to.” It was all he had in the way of answers. That, and the fact that he didn’t want Malcolm anywhere near her.
She frowned, then she looked at something over his shoulder. He followed her gaze to Malcolm and Briar, now on the dance floor.
He almost scowled. “Do you like him?”
Her gaze shot back to him. “That’s none of your business.”
He knew that. And it just made him even more frustrated. Hewantedit to be his business. He wanted to know exactly what she was feeling, and for who, even though he had no right to the information.
“I didn’t know you had a thing for doctors.”
“I don’t. I have a thing for nice guys.”
Holden laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “He’s not a nice guy.”
“How do you know?”
“The way he goes on about the protocol every week at running club. Like he wants every fucking person to tell him how brilliant he is. That’s notnice. That’s arrogant.”
“Well, I find him nice.”
A muscle ticked in Holden’s jaw.
A couple bumped into them. One of the women from the run, Helen maybe, looked up. “Whoops, sorry!”
A guy with a goatee didn’t even look up. He wore a leather jacket and had tattoos down his neck.
Clara watched them closely as they stepped away. “She drank a lot.”
“Are you worried about her?”
“Well, yeah, kind of. She just met that guy tonight. And he has a friend somewhere. People don’t make the best decisions when drunk.” She shook her head. “Her friends will step in if needed.”
That was the thing about Clara; she cared.
As if his thumb had a mind of its own, it stroked her waist.
Her chest rose on an audible inhale, and her gaze shot up. “Holden, what are you doing?”
“I told you, I’m dancing with you. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
Her head tilted slightly, and she looked like she wanted to ask him something, when yet again, something caught her gaze. “Scarlett’s here. What is going on with her?”
