And you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving me at the hotel. He’d meant well. She wasn’t blind to that fact. But she hated the idea that this man looked at her and saw a dog that had been kicked one too many times. She wasn’t a rescue project. Not anymore.

The guests followed the bridal party into the winery’s event space. Floor-­to-­ceiling windows showed tables decorated with simple yet elegant centerpieces, a dance floor, and a long wooden bar lined with wine bottles. But Kat hung back, allowing the invited guests to join the bride and groom.

“I will have fun,” she said. “If you dance with me.”

Winning a yes from Brody suddenly felt necessary. It had b

een years since anyone had caught a glimpse beneath the facade she presented to the world. In New York no one looked at her and saw “orphan.” No one offered Dr. Katherine Arnold a pity date, not to a wedding or anywhere else.

She stepped into the reception and scanned the crowd. “I could ask that cowboy over there. The one wearing the T-­shirt.”

“Craig?” Brody’s hand moved to her lower back, his finger brushing the outer layer of her skirt. “He’s one of Eric’s crew chiefs.”

“A man who wields a chainsaw can’t dance?” she challenged as he guided her toward the bar.

Brody’s jaw locked, his hand pressing tight against her back. “I’ll do it. I’ll dance with you.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, after the bride and groom completed their first spin around the dance floor, Brody set his beer on the bar and held out his hand. A lively, familiar country song filled the room. He might look like a fool moving to the upbeat tempo, but he couldn’t risk a long, slow song that demanded close contact. If he held her body up against his, it wouldn’t end there.

“Ready?” he asked.

“You always keep your word, don’t you?” Kat placed her wineglass beside his beer and allowed him to lead her to the center of the cleared area.

“If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.” He placed one hand on her waist and tried not to think about what her curves looked like free from her fancy clothes.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, moving closer, ignoring his attempt to keep her body from pressing up against his. “I’m tempted to wiggle a naughty promise out of you.”

Brody frowned. “I don’t think this is the time or place.”

Her hand moved up his shoulder to where his shirt collar stopped. Her fingertips teased the bare skin. “I’m sure they have a quiet storage room. From what I recall, you don’t need much, just a solid door, maybe a wall for support.”

“I’m not sure about that.” He stepped back and spun her in a tight circle. The see-­through layer of her skirt lifted, practically begging him to haul her off the dance floor. That damn fabric had taunted him from the moment he’d spotted her in the hotel parking lot, striding toward his truck. Part of him wanted to disappear beneath it, and yeah, a solid door in a secluded storage room would work for that. But that sure as heck wasn’t why he’d brought her.

“Bump into any old friends?” he asked as her body pressed close again.

“No.”

Kat drew away, stopping short of trying to solicit a promise, naughty or nice, from him. But it didn’t change the fact that regret grabbed him by the balls the minute she backed off. His body—­currently at war with his mind—­flat-­out desired her.

“But I’m glad you invited me. It was a beautiful wedding. And I like to dance.” She leaned in close, rising up on her tiptoes, her lips close to his ear. “Spin me again, Brody.”

He did as she asked, twirling her around. The transparent top layer of her skirt lifted again. The nude-­colored bottom layer offered the illusion that she was naked underneath. Maybe she was beneath the skirt.

His body reacted to the image as he drew her back into his arms. The accomplished doctor wouldn’t attend a wedding without her panties. Either way, he shouldn’t be thinking about her underwear.

The music ended and he released her. “I’m going to grab another beer. Want anything?”

“No thanks.” She shook her head. “I need a moment to freshen up. And find that storage room.”

She winked at him, turned and walked off the dance floor. His eyes followed every movement of her flowing skirt. Right or wrong, he couldn’t help wanting her.

The next song started and he headed for the keg.

“Are you sure you picked up the right doctor?” his brother said.

Brody glanced up from the self-­ser­vice barrel of local brew. “She’s filling in for Dr. Westbury.”

“You didn’t just offer a ride to the first sexy blonde you saw and hope she had a few letters after her name like MD and Ph.D.?” Chad said.

Tags: Sara Jane Stone Independence Falls Erotic
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