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eager to escape.
    She blew out a disgusted breath that ruffled the fringe of bangs on her forehead. “You know, we’re not at the office. I don’t have to talk to you.”
    That stung. And that fact, too, surprised the hell out of him. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “We’re not at the office, so why don’t you drop the attitude?”
    Her head snapped back and her blue-green eyes shotsparks. “If you don’t like my attitude, why are you talking to me?”
    â€œSeemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered, though at the moment he was having a hard time remembering just why he’d followed his instinct to approach her. Then his gaze dropped, and he looked her up and down slowly, and he remembered.
    This was a different Kyra from the one he knew, and damned if she didn’t appeal to him on all sorts of levels.
    Another dancer bumped into her, and Garrett reached out to steady her. At the slight contact, heat swept up his arm and ricocheted around his chest. She sucked in a breath and shook herself loose from his grasp. But her eyes glistened and her face was flushed.
    â€œKyra,” the pretty brunette shouted from close by. “Everything okay?”
    â€œFine.” She waved a hand at her friend, then shifted her gaze back to Garrett. “If you’ll excuse me—”
    She was leaving, and suddenly he didn’t want her to go. “Not afraid, are you?”
    She stiffened and he could almost see her temper spike.
    â€œOf you?”
    â€œThat’s the question.”
    She snorted. “Hardly.”
    â€œThen stay,” he said, holding out one hand. “Dance.”
    She looked from his eyes to his hand and back again. “Why should I?”
    He shrugged. “Music’s too good to waste?”
    Her lips twitched and she looked at him with something a little closer to curiosity than animosity.
    â€œGood point.”
    â€œAnd hey,” he said, pushing the small advantage he seemed to have, “there’s always the chance that you’ll dance me into the ground.”
    â€œThere is that.”
    â€œA small chance.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that.” She grabbed his hand and let him pull her back onto the dance floor. Then she took her place in line and fell into the steps of the dance as if it was instinctive.
    Garrett couldn’t keep up.
    But then, it was hard to remember dance steps when your gaze was locked on a particular woman’s behind and how it swayed in time to the music. Every cell in his body felt as if it were boiling. He didn’t care about the damn dance. He’d only wanted to prolong this moment with Kyra. There was something about her. Something that was beginning to resonate inside him. Something he really didn’t want to examine too closely.
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    Kyra stumbled slightly, but caught herself quickly and hoped no one else had noticed. She felt clumsy, awkward.
    And it was all Garrett Wolff’s fault.
    He’d surprised her, showing up at Rio’s.
    Astonished her by wanting to dance.
    And was now busy confusing the hell out of her by watching her so closely. She felt his gaze on her as surely as she would have his touch. Heat simmered deep inside her and made her long for the cool night air.
    But there was no escaping Garrett’s company. Not unless she was willing to let him think he’d chased her off. And she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
    As her brain raced and her feet struggled to keep up with the dance, the song ended and the band moved instantly into something slower, softer. The fiddle player moved to the front of the stage and scraped his bow across the instrument’s strings. A haunting melody seeped into the room and the crowd quieted as the lead singer’s voice quietly sang of love lost.
    Kyra backed up, trying not to look at Garrett at all. Isa slipped away into the crowd, and Kyra was alone with the man who held the future of