Xander shoved out of his chair. “I appreciate your taking the time to chat and attend. If you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to some business, but my brother would thoroughly enjoy talking to you about those clinic additions. I’ll get Easton off the dance floor for you.”
Making a beeline for his brother who was still dancing with the fire-headed zoologist, Xander shouldered through the partiers, nodding and waving without stopping until he reached the throng of dancers. He tapped Easton on the shoulder.
“Mind if I cut in, brother?”
His eccentric younger brother turned on his heel, his forehead creased, a trickle of sweat beading on his brow. “What’s up?”
Easton wore the Prada suit Xander had made sure was delivered for the occasion, but his brother hadn’t bothered with a tie. No surprise. Dr. Easton Lourdes had always been more comfortable in khakis and T-shirts.
Xander tipped his head toward the politician still knocking back mixed drinks. “Donor at your nine o’clock. Needs your expertise on possible additions to the aviary in the clinic.”
His brother’s forehead smoothed and his face folded in a smile, all charm. “Can do.” He clapped Xander on the shoulder. “Thanks again for this shindig. It’s going to pay off big for the place.”
Easton charged past like a man on a mission, leaving his dance partner on the floor alone.
Maureen Burke.
An auburn-haired bombshell, full of brains and energy. She was an Irish native who’d spent much of her life in the States, so her brogue was light. Her degree in zoology along with her rescue experience made her the perfect second-in-command for his brother. Lucky for them she’d received her work visa at exactly the right time. She was extroverted, but also all business. And a woman Xander didn’t have to worry was out to take advantage of the Lourdes family fortune passed down for generations. A portfolio Xander had doubled and that women were attracted to when it came to dating Easton.
Maureen was an individual guaranteed not to mistake Easton’s attention as interest and an invitation to leave ten voice mails. Maureen was much like Xander when it came to romance.
Not interested.
He’d learned she was divorced and, from her standoffish demeanor just beneath that plush-lipped smile, he got the impression it hadn’t been a pleasant split. No doubt the man had been an idiot to let such a gorgeous, intelligent woman walk out of his life.
Xander extended his hand. “Sorry to have stolen your dance partner. I had to send my brother off. Dance with me.”
“Dance? With you?” She swept her long red curls back over her shoulder, her face flushed from heat and exertion.
“Is that such a strange request?”
“I didn’t expect you to know how to dance, much less to know an Irish jig.”
He winced. “An Irish jig?”
She grinned impishly, gesturing to the stage with elegant hands, nails short but painted a glittering gold for the party. “Next up on the band’s request list. Your brother double-dog dared me.”
Double-dog dare? No wonder Easton had left the dance floor so easily and with a grin on his face. He’d set Xander up.
And Xander wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “I’m a man of many talents. Our mother insisted we boys attend dance classes as teens.” He braced his shoulders. “Whatever I don’t know, you can teach me.”
“Good for your mama.”
“And that dance?”
She propped a hand on her hip, her whispery yellow gown hitching along curves as she eyed him with emerald-green eyes. Finally she shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I would like to see the big boss give it a try.”
“Remember, you’ll have to help me brush up on the steps.”
“We’ll keep the moves simple.” She extended an elbow. “Steel drums playing Irish tunes is a first, not too intricate but still fun.”
He bowed before hooking elbows with her. Damn. He’d forgotten how soft a woman’s skin felt. Clearing his throat, he mimicked her steps, mixed with a periodic spin. Her hair fanned across his chest as she whipped around.
His body reacted to the simple contact.
Had to be lack of sex messing with his brain.