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her career in his hands.
    â€œDance with me,” he said softly as more of the line dancers faded back into the crowd.
    â€œI just did,” she said, despite the knot lodged in her throat.
    â€œKyra…” His gaze moved over her face, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Holding out one hand to her, he said again, “Dance with me.”
    Around them, the music swelled, the strains of the fiddle an aching, living thing in the air.
    And Kyra took his hand, stepping in close to him.
    She couldn’t say why. She knew she shouldn’t. Knew it would be better for both of them if she simply went back to her table with Isa and forgot all about running into Garrett. But she couldn’t do it. Caught by something dark and dangerous glittering in his pale blue eyes, she followed a stronger instinct than the one telling her to leave.
    He held her right hand in his left, wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. The scent of him invaded her, making her head swim. The strength of his grip made her pulse jump. The feel of his thighs moving against hers had her closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.
    Her heartbeat quickened and something hot and thick moved through her veins.
    Music filled the air and swept through her senses, making everything seem sharper, clearer, hotter. She felt as if she were quivering, poised on the very lip of a precipice. But she couldn’t see the edge of the cliff and didn’t know what waited for her at the bottom.
    All she knew for sure was her life had just taken another turn for the weird.

Four
    T he music stopped, then started again with a pulse-pounding, foot-stomping beat.
    And still Garrett couldn’t let Kyra go. She felt good in his arms. Too good. It wasn’t something he’d expected, but now that he’d found it, damned if he didn’t want to hold on to the feeling.
    She stared up at him, ignoring the other dancers, as he was. Her eyes looked more green than blue in the dim light of the club, and he felt, as well as saw, the flicker of something warm and intriguing in their depths.
    All around them, dancers moved to the beat while the two of them stood, gazes locked, oblivious to everyone else. His chest tight, Garrett fought for breath and toldhimself to let her go. To step back before he did something that neither of them would be happy about.
    But Kyra moved first.
    â€œThanks,” she said, sliding her hand from his and stepping out of his embrace. “For the dance, I mean,” she added quickly.
    His hands felt empty, and he rubbed the tips of his fingers together as if trying to find the warmth that had slipped away so suddenly.
    â€œRight.” Nodding, he stepped off the dance floor and waited for her to follow. Once clear of the dozens of couples dancing the Cotton-eyed Joe, Garret scrubbed one hand across his face and tried to find a way out of this now uncomfortable situation.
    What the hell had he been thinking?
    Dancing with Kyra Fortune?
    Letting himself imagine doing a hell of a lot more with her?
    Where was this coming from? He’d never known a woman who irritated him more than Kyra. She was opinionated, pushy, arrogant and an all-around thorn in his side.
    So why did he suddenly want to grab her and kiss her blind?
    â€œLook,” she said, pulling Garrett from the wild thoughts racing through his mind, “I’m going to go back and join my friend—”
    â€œYeah,” he said, grabbing at the excuse she’d offered. “And I’ve got to go—”
    â€œâ€”so how about we just pretend this never happened?”
    â€œHuh?” Surprised, he stared at her. Her gaze flicked to each side of her, as if making sure no one was listening. When she looked back at him, her eyes were clear and cool, with no hint of the spark he’d seen earlier.
    She blew out a breath. “It was a nice dance, but seriously, it was just a fluke,