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conspiratorial whisper into the microphone, she said, “He’s kind of a curmudgeon.”
    * * *
     
    Shane’s blood simmered in his veins. Somehow she’d managed to bring in a whole crapload of people. While her voice was incredible, he found it hard to believe she hadn’t masterminded some kind of scheme to get more people in the audience. No way had word gotten out that fast about her singing talents.
    The real kicker was that he pegged most of the customers as cops. And the last thing he needed or wanted in his life was more cops.
    As if things weren’t bad enough already, his worst nightmare walked through the door. Could this whole situation get any worse?
    Seconds later, he found out they definitely could when the music started. She wanted music between sets, and damn if she hadn’t gone around him to get it accomplished. But it was who she enlisted for her first dance that really sent him over the edge.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Gabriella steadfastly avoided eye contact with Shane. With music playing in the background, she hunted through the crowd for a likely candidate for what she had in mind. Finally, she spotted a couple of guys at a table in the corner.
    She half danced, half shimmied her way over. Just as Van Morrison began to sing ‘Brown Eyed Girl,’ she grabbed the hand of the blond guy.
    “This is my song. Dance with me.” When he stood up, she continued, “I warn you, I like to lead.” She motioned to the remainder of the crowd. “Join us. Who can resist a Van Morrison tune?”
    The guy smirked and grasped her hand. She brought him onto the small stage, which became an impromptu dance floor. Although a calculated risk, she found the guy to be a competent dancer.
    After the song finished, she spared a glance at Shane, hoping maybe he didn’t care about what she’d managed to orchestrate behind his back. If she were really lucky, maybe he’d get a clue, and see the benefit of what she’d done.
    One look gave her the answer. And it wasn’t pretty.
    Maybe it was her imagination, but it looked as if there were a vein pulsing in the middle of his forehead, one that seemed seconds away from bursting. That couldn’t be good. And he was giving her the super-duper death stare from behind the bar. The guy really needed to lighten up.
    When the Van Morrison selection changed to ‘Someone Like You’ it seemed only natural for her to crook her finger at him. When things started to go downhill, her policy was always to push the envelope. He couldn’t very well strangle her in front of all these people, could he?
    If he tried surely someone would be brave enough to intervene.
    Besides, she’d been itching to get her arms around him ever since she’d seen him touching her underwear the other night and figured this might be the only way that particular fantasy would ever come to true. “Come on, Shane, I need a partner.”
    To her surprise, without a word of protest, he stalked over and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in so tight she let out a squeak. She half expected they’d be doing that dance from Mr. And Mrs. Smith where Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie nearly knocked each other senseless by bumping into walls, tables, and everything else imaginable, trying to cause each other bodily harm. But they didn’t.
    Instead, tantalizing whiffs of aftershave mingled with soap and mint and tickled her nose. A not-from-the-cold shiver slid along her spine, sending out all kinds of messages to parts of her body that shouldn’t have been paying attention, but were.
    “What are you up to?” His voice sounded strained and hoarse, as if he were fighting for control.
    She tried to sound flippant despite the fact her hormones were bouncing around inside like ping pong balls. “It’s called fun. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
    He growled something unintelligible into her ear. But she knew better than to ask for clarification.
    Despite having the social skills of a poorly mannered five-year-old, he was