“You’re not wearing underwear, Deena.”
Heat threaded through me. His fingers pressed into my hip, branding the bare skin beneath. I glared. “You are an insolent, irritating man,” I said in a voice low enough that no one else would hear.
He dipped his lips toward my ear, his hold on me tightening as the music swelled around us. “And you are an infuriating, intoxicating woman.”
A shiver went through me, and I knew he felt it. Redoubling the force of my glare didn’t seem to affect him as he pulled away, his body refusing to give me an inch of space as he swept me around the dance floor.
I realized, as he twirled me, that I’d made a critical mistake.
Ithought I could push him away, but Cal was a man who got what he wanted. In trying to reject him and put walls up against him, I’d only become more of a challenge.
And now I’d be working for him.
What had I done?
The last notes of the music shimmered in the air, and couples all over the dance floor pulled apart to applaud the string quartet.
“I need a drink,” I announced.
“I’ll get it for you,” he offered, ever the perfect gentleman. One of the couples next to us smiled, and I bit back my retort. He walked me to the edge of the dance floor and headed for the bar, and I took the opportunity to duck toward the open doors. Fresh air would help my brain reboot.
With my hands wrapped tight around the balustrade, I let the sea breeze wash over me. It was a little too cool to be comfortable, but I relished the way it woke me up. I closed my eyes and inhaled, sorting through my thoughts.
I wouldn’t work for him. No way. I’d make it through this evening, then send him on his way, make something up about us breaking up when my mother inevitably asked about him, and then never see him again.
Never feel his lips on mine again. Never get that flying, floating feeling when he helped me let go. Never again feel the electric jolt caused by his full, focused attention.
My brows arched, and I looked out over the inky sea. Could I really walk away from him after what had just happened between us?
“Trouble in paradise?” a familiar voice asked.
I turned as Austin came to a stop beside me, a glass of liquor dangling from his fingertips. He extended a flute of champagne toward me. I took it and lifted it in thanks. “These things always exhaust me,” I explained.
Austin hummed, his eyes coasting over my face. “You look good, Deena. Really good.”
I smiled at the compliment, but a twist of discomfort went through me. It didn’t feel the same as when Cal called me beautiful. Austin had a way of saying it that was layered. Like even a simple compliment might have a cost—just by receiving it, I now owed him something. When Cal called me beautiful or perfect or infuriating, it felt like he was saying it because it was the simple, undeniable truth.
“Thank you,” I said, and took a sip. “So do you. Haven’t seen you in a tux since prom.”
He grinned at me. “The good ole days.” He angled his body toward me, his hip leaning on the balustrade. The waves lapped at the marina below us, boats bobbing up and down in a gentle rhythm. “You ever consider moving back?”
I laughed. “No.”
Austin had the gall to look wounded. He took a sip of his drink and gave me a rueful smile. “And here I thought I had a shot of convincing you to pick up where we left off.”
Before I could remind him that we left off when we were both teenagers and our brains weren’t fully developed, a deep voice made me turn toward the ballroom. “You don’t,” Cal said, his gait casual, his eyes hard. He smiled, but there was no humor. “Have a shot,” he finished, pale eyes boring into Austin’s. “She’s here with me.”
The cold wind lifting goosebumps all over my arms did nothing to quench the heat that Cal’s voice ignited in my gut. No one had ever claimed me like that. So publicly. So undeniably.
I knew it wasn’t real. I knew Cal just wanted me to know that he hadn’t given up. In fact, he’dwon, because he’d gotten to sleep with meandI’d agreed to work with him. Still, he was a good actor. He looked truly furious as he stalked toward me andplucked the champagne from my fingers. He set the flute on the nearest table and replaced it with the one he’d brought me.
Austin had straightened and taken half a step back in the meantime, his eyes losing their playful light as he glared at Cal. “I think Deena can speak for herself.”
My brows lifted. That was an interesting thought, and completely opposite to how Austin had treated me when we were together. Maybe Austin had evolved in the years I’d been away.
Cal ignored him, choosing instead to grasp my chin and turn my head so I’d meet his gaze. His eyes burned into me, and my gut clenched. It didn’t look like he was playacting at being angry at all. I parted my lips to say something, and he took that opportunity to kiss me, hard and possessive. It didn’t last long, but it knocked me completely off-balance.
His eyes never left mine, but he spoke to Austin. “Leave us,” he said.
