Every nerve ending I have lights up like a scoreboard.
She's small against me. Soft where I'm hard. Her heart hammers against my ribs—I can feel it through her dress.
Dang.
"You good?" My voice comes out rougher than intended, strained by how badly I want to back her against the nearest wall.
She looks up at me, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. "I'm—yeah. I'm good." But her knuckles are white where she's clutching my bicep, and she's not pulling away. Neither am I.
My cock stirs again, pressing against the zipper of my pants.
"West." My name on her lips is breathless. I want to hear it when she comes.
"Careful," I manage, forcing myself to release her. "These tiles are slippery."
"Right. Slippery." She smooths her dress with trembling hands. "Thanks for the... save."
"Don't mention it."
Her gaze darts past me to Blake, and I see comprehension dawn— I've blocked her again.
Her jaw sets. Her eyes narrow.
"We need to talk," I say before she can try another approach.
"I'm kind of busy—"
"No, you're not." I wrap my hand around her elbow—gentle but firm—and steer her away from the pool before she can protest. "Come on."
She could fight me. Should fight me, probably.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she lets me guide her across the courtyard, past the main pavilion, toward the private path that leads to the VIP casitas.
"Where are we going?" she asks.
"Somewhere you can't cause a scene."
"I'm not causing scenes. I'm networking."
"You're about as good at networking as I am at ballet."
That gets a surprised laugh out of her. The sound does something dangerous to my chest.
The walk to my casita is silent except for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. Her skin is warm under my palm, and I have to resist the urge to slide my hand lower.
I unlock the door and gesture her inside.
She hesitates for exactly two seconds before stepping through.
Smart girl. Meeting a strange man in his private villa is a terrible idea.
But she does it anyway.
Inside, the air-conditioned chill does nothing to cool the heat between us.
I close the door and lean against it, crossing my arms. "You want to tell me what you're really doing here?"
