He doubted it. “No harm done,” he murmured. Beneath the table, he squeezed her hand in a token gesture of comfort before reaching to wipe the small mess.
“Thanks,” she whispered. One look at her ashen face had him questioning the depth of this father-daughter relationship. She wrung the linen napkin between her hands. Peter had been mistaken. Carly cared... too much.
No one except Mike appeared to notice her discomfort. He waited until they’d all ordered before turning to his brother. “Do you mind if I dance with your future wife?” Before getting that close to Carly, Mike needed to cement their status in his mind.
Peter leaned back in his chair and smiled. “My pleasure. I’ll just...”
“Spend time discussing business,” Mike finished for him. As if there was any other ending to the sentence, Mike thought. “Okay, then.” He pushed back his chair and rose from his seat.
“May I?” He extended his hand toward Carly.
If ever someone needed to get away from friends, family and all-around stress, Carly did. And he wanted to be her salvation, if only for the night. No one, including her parents or her fiancé, had realized how shaken she was. Another telling sign, he thought.
“I don’t think a dance is such a good idea.” She glanced around her for confirmation, but everyone else was already engrossed in conversation.
She looked at his outstretched hand. With the slightest hesitation, she put her napkin down on the table and rose from her seat, placing her warm hand in his.
Mike’s insides did a one-eighty. For a man who faced danger daily while on assignment without flinching, this sudden kick of adrenaline was a warning. Sexual chemistry was one thing. Caring another.
Carly followed Mike, unable to understand how he’d read her so well. He’d sensed her discomfort and offered her a chance to compose herself away from prying eyes. She already knew a dangerous attraction raced between them. She didn’t need or want an emotional connection with him as well.
As they approached the dance floor, Carly felt as though she were stepping over an imaginary boundary, crossing a path that would lead to nothing but disaster if she wasn’t careful. Yet with each step away from the table and toward Mike, her mood lightened. His grip tightened on her hand, prompting hers to do the same.
The floor wasn’t crowded, nor were they the only couple dancing. There was enough room for them to maneuver comfortably without feeling crushed, yet enough people surrounding them to offer her the illusion of being safe in Mike’s arms. He drew her close, slipping his arm around her back while still kee
ping a respectable space between them. She appreciated his discretion, and yet there was nothing respectable about her feelings for Mike.
“Was my SOS that obvious?” she asked.
“Only to someone paying attention,” he said, implying what she’d already realized on her own.
Though she ought to jump to her fiancé’s defense, she was too tired to make the effort. She glanced at Mike and smiled. “Well, thank you, sir.”
“No problem, ma’am,” he drawled.
She tilted her head back in time to catch his lopsided grin and couldn’t contain the impish smile he inspired in return. When silence descended, she let herself drift in time to the music. She laid one hand on his shoulder, idly moving her fingers along his jacket, feeling the broad planes of his chest and the ripple of muscle beneath the material. She heard his deep breath at the same time he captured her hand in his, intertwining their fingers.
Embarrassed, she searched for a neutral topic.
“After all your travels, family dinners must bore you to tears.”
“You’d be surprised.” His gaze roamed over her face before he captured the back of her head in his strong hand and settled her head against his chest. But he kept her wandering hand wrapped in his, close to his heart.
The song changed to a slow, romantic ballad. As the lights dimmed, more couples joined them on the dance floor, forcing Mike’s body closer. The rasp of material as his jacket brushed her linen dress sounded unnaturally loud in her ears.
She glanced up to find his golden eyes smoldering with unspoken need. For Carly the world had shrunk in size, to two people dancing in near twilight, alone with each other.
When she drew a deep breath, she was enveloped by the essence of Mike. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling like she’d come home. Without warning, the music shifted again, this time to a 1970s’ pop song. Carly was bumped from behind, pushed against Mike... and discovered he desired her much the same way she wanted him. The proof of something she’d spent the last week alternately denying and forcing out of her mind sent her reeling. She backed off immediately.
“Carly, wait.”
She turned. “Please don’t say anything.”
“But...”
“Not a single word.” She placed one finger over his lips, then jerked back as if she’d touched a live wire. With a single touch or a heated glance, the man caused her nerve endings to tingle and her entire body to vibrate in a way that was both new and familiar at the same time.
She clenched her fists to keep from trembling. “I’m going back to the table before anyone misses us.”