Worth the Risk (Worth It 2)

“Like I said, I was just leaving.” Hunter shot a glare in Rhett’s direction before he clapped his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Congratulations again, man. I hope you and Tessa are happy.”

Alex smiled, his gaze going hazy like it did at any mention of Tessa’s name. The guy was a complete sucker for his new wife. “Thanks, Hunter. You sure you want to leave so early? The party’s just getting started.”

The music started back up, some fast and loud song that had half the crowd flooding the dance floor. Whereas during the ceremony he couldn’t wait to get his party on, he suddenly realized he was getting too old for this sort of thing. “Nah, I’m done. Your wedding and all the responsibilities of being the best man wore me out.” He smiled to take the edge out of his words but they weren’t far from the truth.

Hunter left his brothers where they stood, relieved to get out of there. He was thrilled for Alex, really he was. But he needed a break from all the wedding stuff. It had consumed the Worth family, and he was over it.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t over Gracie. Too bad she’d already gone.

A wave of disappointment threatened to wash over him and he shoved it aside. Waving at a few people as he moved through the room, he came out into the quiet corridor with a relieved exhale. Only a handful of guests lingered. A couple stood close to a potted palm, speaking in low tones, the man casually touching the woman on the arm.

Hunter frowned. At least someone was gonna get some tonight.

He headed toward the banks of elevators, tugging his bow tie loose before he shrugged out of his tux jacket. He wore suits on an almost daily basis, but the monkey suit was a bit much after a few hours.

Only one person waited before the elevators, and he slowed his steps, shock coursing through him at the sight. He knew that sweet backside anywhere.

“Gracie.”

She turned at the sound of her name being called, and he grinned.

Maybe he wouldn’t end up going home alone after all.

Chapter Three

She knew she’d dawdled too long. Becky hadn’t wanted her to leave, had tried to drag her back onto the dance floor, but Gracie’d protested, saying she was too tired. After much begging on both of their parts, they’d come to an agreement.

And Gracie finally made her almost-escape.

She certainly hadn’t expected to run into Hunter again. It looked like he was making his escape as well.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said somewhat breathlessly as he stopped just beside her.

Oh, and didn’t he look amazing, his black jacket slung negligently over his shoulder, his bowtie unraveled and the first couple of buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. He exuded warm, gentlemanly sex appeal, and she barely suppressed the shiver that stole over her.

She had it bad, and it was such a colossal waste of time.

“I thought you’d already left.” The pleasure in his voice was unmistakable.

Which meant she was in a heap of trouble if she didn’t get away from him and soon.

“Becky tried to convince me to stay.”

“But you didn’t want to?”

She sounded like a complete loser. Oh well, too late now. “I’m pretty tired. And really, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“You were pretty light on your feet when you were dancing with me.” His voice was so low she had to strain closer just to hear him. He could seduce her alone with words. Just listening to him speak sent a shiver throughout her entire body.

The elevator doors opened, relieving her of having to reply. He let her walk in first, then followed her inside, the doors sliding closed with a finality that made her aware.

Achingly aware of the man who stood so close to her in such a confined place. The wedding and reception had been held at the Waldorf Astoria, one of the oldest and most prestigious hotels in New York City. The hotel elevators were awfully small, and one wall was floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

Giving her a perfect view of the two of them standing there, Hunter so tall and lean, his head tipped back in that universal pose of keeping an eye out as the floor numbers counted down.

She watched him covertly in the mirror, greedily drinking him in. The sensual tension brewing between them was almost unbearable in its intensity. They didn’t speak a word, but they didn’t have to. It was so very obvious—at least to her.

He wanted her. And drat it all, she wanted him. Desperately.