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down, love!" Ben smiled boyishly and hugged her close for a second. "I didn't say he was going to run off with you over his shoulder. Yet, at any rate," he amended teasingly, cocking one blond brow.
    "Oh, stop it, Ben!" she commanded pettishly. "You're misreading the situation completely. And even if you were right, I wouldn't be interested! Now cut out the teasing and let's try those new steps you were teaching me last weekend. With any luck he'll excuse himself when we get back to the table."
    Whatever Simon Kendrick's reason was for attaching himself to their company, Ben was correct in saying they were stuck with the older man for the rest of the evening. By ten o'clock, Kirsten had danced two more times with Simon, trying to keep control of her tongue on each occasion. It was difficult and there were moments when she actually caught it between her teeth in order to avoid making too sharp a retort. Her sarcasm never seemed to succeed in putting the man in his place, she reflected ruefully. On the contrary, he appeared to thrive on it! Feeling like a martyr, she gave her attention to her feet, determined not to embarrass herself any further by stomping on the man's toes! It had been a long time since she had been forced to move so cautiously on the dance floor. Since eighth grade, Kirsten decided.
    "You've become a model of restraint," Simon commented during the last dance she intended to bestow on him. "I admire your self-control."
    "Thank you," she replied stiffly, curiously aware of the pressure of his arms against her back. "It's been an effort!"
    "My pleasure," he said dryly, using his left arm to haul her even closer.
    Kirsten became uncomfortably nervous as his lips hovered somewhere in the vicinity of her ear and then she felt his arm move against her back so that it lay underneath the hair which tumbled softly around her waist. The intimacy of the gestures unnerved her completely. And she was twenty-eight years old, for heaven's sake, she mentally chided herself.
    "Mr. Kendrick," she began, determined to gain some control over the situation.
    "It's Simon. How many times must I tell you?" he asked softly, not moving his mouth any farther away. The deep, disturbing voice was a husky whisper. It was all Kirsten could do not to tremble in response. She must pull herself together!
    "Mr. Kendrick," Kirsten insisted, tightening her muscles in preparation for pulling away from his big, hard body. "I barely know you and I have an aversion to dancing like this with someone I've met so recently! Please take me back to the table!" For a long, excruciating moment she didn't think he was going to do as she asked and then she was free and they were threading their way through the maze of tiny, intimate cocktail tables.
    Without taking her seat, Kirsten sent a speaking glance toward Ben, who responded with gratifying obedience.
    "I guess we'd better be on our way, huh, Kirsten?" he said quickly, rising almost at once. "It's getting late…"
    "It's only a little after ten, Williamson," Simon told him silkily and turned toward Kirsten. "Surely you're not going to concede defeat so readily. Miss Mallory?" he added with all the ease of a knife slipping into butter. Or between ribs, she thought with revulsion.
    "I wasn't aware we were engaged in a contest, Mr. Kendrick. I'm glad to learn exactly how you view the situation, though. I intend to withdraw at once and leave the field to you. If that gives you a sense of victory, you're welcome to enjoy it." Without waiting to see if Ben was following, she turned on her heel and walked proudly out of the lounge. Hasty excuses and quick steps behind her told Kirsten that Ben was not going to abandon his date, even if she was behaving strangely. A nice guy.
    "What's gotten into you, Kirsten? That man is going to have a lot to say about our future with Silco, you know! He may be a bit of a wolf, but you're a big enough girl to handle that!" Ben took her arm as they walked through the hotel