Page 13 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

Back on the dance floor, he held her closer than before. Her body fit perfectly against his tall, muscular form, now moving together as a single entity. She closed her eyes, lost in the music and the protective feel of his arms. She'd never danced this way with a man she knew so little about, so close and full of longing. As good as it felt, she had a feeling the best was still to be had. He pulled back and looked down at her. The playful expression she'd observed all night had been replaced with a serious one.

“Like I said, sleek and slim …” He squeezed her waist.

“Like I said, your one-liners are lethal.” Her fingers toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"What's the most romantic thing a man's ever done for you?" he asked.

"Cut off his tie," she said, one hand moving down to tug on the raveled remains. "What about you? What’s your ultimate romantic fantasy? Has a woman ever left you breathless?"

He grew quiet. Natalie watched his eyes as he turned these questions over in his mind. They continued to sway, but now he loosened his grip. By the time the song ended, their bodies were barely touching.

"It's getting late. Shall we go?" he asked, suddenly business-like.

"I, uh … sure, ready when you are.” Her stomach knotted with confusion.

She collected her abandoned boots. He ordered another Uber. They descended the stairs in silence. A total about-face from the hours of easy-going, flirtatious banter.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. His hands were shoved into his pockets now—hands that had stroked her back and held her hips minutes before. Something was wrong. How else could she explain such a drastic change? He directed his gaze up the street, watching for their ride. She took the opportunity to peek at her watch for the first time since leaving the pub.

He’s right. It’s late.

"If you wouldn't mind dropping me, or I can call my own ride. I don’t want to inconvenience you."

"Something is wrong, Ms. Earhart," he confessed, turning back to face her.

"Okay." She nodded, a nervous flutter rattled her insides, and she braced herself for bad news.

“You asked if a woman has ever left me breathless. And the answer is yes, but not the way you meant.”

“Really, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

He nudged a pebble with his socked foot. “Breathless isn’t the right word though. More like speechless, and not in a good way.” He exhaled. “I poured every ounce of myself into someone once. And she burned me.”

Whoa. And here I thought I’d screwed up.

Natalie stepped closer and placed a supportive hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. I know exactly how that feels—to give everything and get nothing back.”

He looked up, blue eyes soft. “Something was happening on that dance floor. A closeness I haven’t felt in a long time. I know we just met, but … I like you. And that scares the hell out of me.”

Her arms wrapped around him before he finished speaking. His hands left his pockets and folded around her. They held each other in a tight, silent embrace for a full minute. Even through his jacket, Natalie could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat.

He’s smart and funny and vulnerable. And nothing like Roman.

He’s not like any guy I’ve ever met.

She pulled back just enough to see his face. The shadows dancing across the deserted London street couldn’t hide the brilliant blue of his eyes.

Say something. Tell him this is the best night you’ve had in years. The ultimate bon voyage gift.

She didn’t get the chance. The streetlamps and darkened storefronts disappeared around them. Her eyes fell closed the second she felt the softness of his lips. The kind of kiss she feared most, gentle and cautious. A kiss of warning. She teetered on the edge of a very dangerous cliff. One misstep and all her professional plans could crash and burn.

CHAPTER FOUR

NATALIE

They returned to the pub for his car—a sleek, black coupe that looked like it had driven straight off the Fast & Furious set.