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a real dance tonight…in more ways than one.”
    Sharon looked the hand still gripping her arm, then back at the idiot. “My date is more man than you will ever be.” Her lip curled back and her wolf’s dangerous snarl laced her voice. “Remove your hand before I feed it to you.”
    His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to retort.
    Before he had the chance to say something that would get him killed, Rizzo growled threateningly and Mark’s low, menacing voice hissed into his ear.
    “Remove your hand from the lady, or this so called gimp will wipe the floor with your sorry ass.”
    Out of nowhere, Cade appeared on Mark’s right and Marcus on his left.
    The man pulled his hand away from Sharon like she was on fire. “No problem. You can have the fat bitch. I’ll find someone who isn’t into gimps.”
    Sharon looked at the man like he was dog shit stuck to her shoe. It was obvious she found the idiot tedious and unworthy of her time. Her class and self-confidence awed Mark. He and Rizzo moved from behind the man to stand at Sharon’s side. Cade and Marcus could handle the asshat.
    Once Mark moved from his position behind the bastard, Marcus stepped closer and grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck. “You won’t be bothering any of the fine ladies here tonight. You’re leaving.”
    He tried unsuccessfully to dislodge Marcus, and barked. “Like hell, I am. I paid to be here, and I plan to get my money’s worth.”
    Cade clamped a bone crushing grip on the man’s arm “Your choice, leave on your own steam, or we carry you out on a stretcher.”
    The moron opened his mouth to argue. Cade looked at Marcus, and without a word, they lifted the belligerent man an inch from the floor and removed him from the room to pass off to security.
    While the Le Beau’s dealt with the man, the ruckus had silenced the room. Mark glanced at the sea of gaping faces and then back at Sharon. But his worry was unfounded. Rose and Simon were already in motion, bringing the room to order and reestablishing a party atmosphere. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, then inspected her arm. Purple bruising was beginning to show. He wanted to find the asshole and beat him to a pulp. With a gentle finger under her chin, he tipped Sharon’s face up to his. “You were magnificent. Does your arm hurt?”
    “I’ll be fine in a minute. I just need to take a breath.”
    He took her elbow and helped her to their table. He had just settled Rizzo in her spot by his feet when he heard Sharon huff out a breath.
    “Ah, hell. The gossip chain has begun. That horrid Mrs. Smith is already telling tales to Mrs. Lincoln.”
    He almost laughed out loud at the haughty, disgusted stare she gave the women. That was until she spoke again.
    “Dance with me.”
    “What?” he sputtered.
    “Dance with me. We need to help Rose and Simon get this event back on track before people start leaving. I won’t be the cause of the ball prematurely ending and being proclaimed a disaster in the society pages.”
    He swallowed his fear, told Rizzo to stay, and led her to the dance floor, praying the entire way he didn’t embarrass himself and Sharon by falling on his ass.
    At least the band had continued on, and thankfully was playing a slow song. He didn’t stop until they were in the center of the dance floor. With a flourish, he took Sharon’s right hand and spun her out and back in before they began a slow waltz. So far, so good.
    Sharon eased in closer, enveloping him in her delicious spicy, sweet scent. He slipped his hand from her waist to the small of her back, pressing her soft curves tighter against his body. Like a couple who spent years dancing together, their bodies moved as one. Mark forgot about his prosthesis as everyone but the woman in his arms ceased to exist.
    Her sigh fanned his throat with warm breath. Goose bumps rose on the back of his neck and his groin tightened further. She was killing him and all he could think was, what