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toneless. “I was very much involved, after all.”
    “A pirate in all manner of things,” she said.
    “I had never thought of it that way. But it’s a nice way to romanticize it,” he said, his voice a near whisper, his face so near hers now that it made her lips tingle.
    “I’m not romanticizing. I find nothing appealing about a man with no honor.”
    He released his hold on her, strong, square hands curling into fists, the tendons becoming more prominent, showing the weight of the gesture and the intensity of the emotion behind it, even though his face remained smooth, unreadable.
    “Honor. An interesting concept, one I’ve yet to bear witness to.”
    Join the club. She wasn’t sure how much honor she’d ever seen in her life. As a teenager, stuck in a hospital room, it had made a nice fantasy. A knight in shining armor riding in on his steed. But she’d given up on that by the time she’d reached the end of high school.
    And instead of a knight on his steed she got a buccaneer on his galleon intent on plundering twenty-five percent of her gold. Brilliant.
    She looked up and his eyes locked with hers, she felt the heat again, inside this time, making her blood feel like warm honey in her veins, the ensuing languor making her reserve, her anger, begin to evaporate.
    How did he do that? How did he make her melt inside with just a look?
    Her lips suddenly felt dry and she darted her tongue out quickly, dampening them. She watched as his eyes followed the motion and she felt a yawning, aching sensation open up inside of her. She knew what it was. It was arousal, and she wasn’t a stranger to it. She’d just never been in a man’s arms while experiencing it. Had never had the object of her desire so close that she could place her hand on the hard wall of his chest if she chose to.
    This wasn’t a safe fantasy in the privacy of her bedroom. Not a dim, gauzy dream that sent vague sensations of pleasure rolling through her. This was a real, live, man. And he was looking at her lips with much more than just a passing interest.
    No wonder his brother’s fiancée hadn’t said no. No wonder she had broken her commitment to be with him. He was temptation incarnate. His eyes, his chiseled physique, promised a woman pleasure beyond fantasy.
    Oh, yes, what a fantasy. She flashed back to his finger skimming her scar. It wouldn’t be a fantasy for him; it would be a waking nightmare. And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of him seeing her, all of her. The idea was too horrifying to even contemplate.
    And why was she thinking of it at all? It was like there was a war going on in her. Common sense versus basic instincts. It was a good thing she’d gained control over that basic part of herself a long time ago.
    It suddenly felt unbearably hot, even though she was certain the temperature couldn’t have actually changed. Or maybe it had. Maybe more people had filed into the small club and that was it. It couldn’t really be him, his gaze, making her feel dizzy with heat.
    He leaned in slightly and she didn’t move, she stayed, rooted to the spot, keeping her eyes on his as he drew nearer to her. Her eyes tried to flutter closed and she caught them, wouldn’t allow it.
    She still didn’t move away.
    He stopped suddenly, his lips so near hers she could feel the heat of them. “Don’t worry. I don’t need to possess honor to help make you a very rich woman. In fact, it helps that I don’t.”
    The gauzy curtain of arousal that had been shrouding them lifted suddenly and broke her trance as effectively as a gust of icy wind.
    “I’m ready to leave,” she said, stepping away from him, finally.
    “I’ll stay,” he said, golden gaze already wandering. He would probably stay and find some slim, sexy socialite to hook up with.
    It made her feel ill, and it shouldn’t make her feel anything at all.
    “Good. Great. Have fun.”
    She turned and walked out of the club, embracing the chill of the night air as it hit