Secret Seduction. Lori Wilde

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СКАЧАТЬ seen the drunk at the bar mouth off to her with some smart-assed sexual comment, and Tanner had also noticed how quickly and effectively she’d shut him down with one stern look and a barb from her sharp tongue. Whenever he looked at Vanessa Rodriquez, the word formidable sprang to mind.

      She slid off the bar stool as the band struck up a fast-paced dance tune, the hem of her sexy red dress swirling against her firm thighs as she walked. She was heading straight toward him.

      When Tanner realized this, he set his beer on the table and straightened in his chair.

      Had she figured out he was following her? If so, his employer was going to be pissed that she’d spotted him so easily. What kind of security expert was he?

      How had she spotted him so easily?

       You’re off your game tonight.

      She stopped at his table, held his gaze.

      Unnerved but determined not to show any weakness, Tanner latched on to her bold stare.

      She extended her hand. “Dance with me.”

      Restraint had him hesitating a fraction of a second. He’d already screwed up by letting her get a bead on him and he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had and risk blowing his cover. But then again, he didn’t want her going on to the next guy—who could very possibly be the person he’d been secretly hired to protect her from. “How do you know I can dance?”

      She eyed him up and down. “You look graceful.”

      “Just what every guy wants to hear.”

      Her soft laughter sounded like wind rustling through cot-tonwood leaves.

      Actually, he did know how to dance. In college Tanner’s football coach had made his players take lessons to improve their balance and agility on the field. It had worked. During his senior year, the University of Texas Longhorns had won the Southwest Conference.

      She just stood there, one hand cocked on her shapely hip, her other palm held out for him to accept, a challenging quirk raising one perfectly arched eyebrow, her long, dark eye-lashes lowering seductively.

      It was his duty to watch over her. What better way to accomplish that than to dance with her?

      Tanner took her hand and got to his feet in one fluid movement, pushing his chair back with a bump of his thigh. He shouldn’t have noticed the sensuous curve of her breasts beneath the silky fabric of her low-cut dress.

      But he did.

      And in spite of his best intentions, he couldn’t stop his gaze from roving over the lush, golden skin of her cleavage. She smelled as enticing as she looked. A tropical combination of coconut, vanilla and lime.

      This attraction seemed surreal. He hadn’t felt the slightest interest in a woman in four long years.

      Oddly enough, he resented Vanessa for stirring his dormant desires. It didn’t feel right; he felt as if he was cheating on Maria.

      His desire tasted like wine. Oaken and loamy and lingering and more real than the taste of the beer he’d been drinking. One sip of sin and the daydream started—of long summer nights and sweaty flesh pressed hotly together.

      Vanessa walked backward, swishing her hips, leading him out onto the patio-sized dance floor that was empty except for a young couple wrapped in the throes of a passionate embrace. The couple wasn’t even bothering to dance. They just rhythmically groped each other in time to the music.

      Reluctant to draw her too near to him, Tanner draped one arm around her shoulder instead of her waist as he would have done if they were intimate. He had to do something to moderate his escalating temperature or he’d have no control over his natural masculine response.

      But the maneuver didn’t work because her dark hair was swinging provocatively at the level of those fabulous breasts as she swayed her hot little fanny to the bouncy beat. She had the moves of a total pro and every gaze in the place was glued to her.

      “You don’t have to dance so far away, big man,” she murmured, her eyes bright and direct.

      She wasn’t shy about expressing what she wanted. Tanner liked that about her, but he wasn’t eager to hold her soft feminine curves against his body. He didn’t trust this unexpected surge of testosterone blistering through him.

      Didn’t trust it and didn’t want it.

      But the feeling wasn’t fleeting.

      She wriggled closer, forcing him to drop his hand from her shoulder to the middle of her back. He could feel the outline of her bra and experienced curiosity, longing and annoyance with himself.

      “I was right,” she said.

      “About what?”

      “You are a good dancer.”

      “I’m out of practice,” he said.

      “So am I.”

      “You don’t come here often?”

      She shook her head. “You?”

      “First time,” he admitted.

      “I thought you looked out of your element.”

      “You, on the other hand, look like you own the place,” he said. “But then again, I bet you look like that wherever you go.”

      “Not hardly,” she said.

      He could tell by the faint smile playing at the corners of her lips that he’d pleased her. He hadn’t been trying to flatter—he’d merely spoken the truth as he saw it—but it delighted him to know she was charmed.

      The band morphed into a slower tune. More people drifted onto the dance floor, pushing them closer together.

      Their hips touched.

      Tanner heard her sudden, sharp intake of breath. The trumpet player wailed a mournful note that slid right down his spine and lodged in the center of his chest. The resonant vibrations throbbed through him, pounding rhythmically with each beat of his heart.

      The yeasty flavor of beer lay on his tongue, mixed with the pungency of his desire. It tasted as taboo as this closeness felt. His eyes fixed on Vanessa’s raspberry-colored mouth and he found himself wondering what she tasted like. Tequila and lime, for sure, but beyond that he had the unfathomable notion she also tasted of piquant mystery and salty pathos.

      A light sheen of perspiration dewed her forehead.

      He had a snapshot image of her tangled in his bedsheets, her head cradled on his pillow, hair fanned out like an inky pool as she gazed up at him with the same glistening gleam slicking her brow. He imagined her lips puckered in a playful pout, her long legs drawn up beneath her, the pink of her perky nipples peeping at him above the covers. The vision was startling, unexpected and erotic.

      He shook his head, dispelling the picture. It was bad enough he was dancing with her; he wasn’t going to give in to sexual СКАЧАТЬ