To make the moment even more laughable, the woman beside me lays her wrinkled hand over mine and leans in to say, “I don’t know about you, but I never could figure out which fork goes with what.” Then she picks up the crab cake with her fingers like it’s a burger and bites down.

I can’t contain myself. The moment strikes me as comedic and laughter bubbles up from my chest and bursts free. Here I am, a stripper dating a wealthy man who just happens to find herself walking among society’s elite. It’s a total movie moment and I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

I’m still laughing when I catch Rebel’s eye. The smile he’s wearing is full of something I’m not ready to deal with. It causes my stomach to flip wildly and my heartbeat to stutter. Covering my mouth with my hand, I clear my throat, wipe the smile off my face, and pick up a fork.

The crab cake is delicious.

***

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Nope,” is my curt reply.

We’re dancing to a version of “My Heart Will Go On” played entirely by violins. Back when Titanic was all the rage and Leonardo DiCaprio starred in every one of my elicit fantasies, I loved this song. Now it just seems like a joke. Who the hell plays something like this at a conference? It doesn’t fit.

Not only am I feeling critical of the song choices, but I’m trying desperately to hold onto my anger and resentment toward Rebel. He’s making it exceedingly difficult.

I’d almost swear I was on a date with Ransom. Behaving like nothing but the perfect gentleman, Rebel’s been attentive and uncharacteristically sweet. He’s pulling out chairs and introducing me to coworkers and clients. He includes me in conversations even though I have no clue what to say, and now we’re slow dancing, our bodies pressed so tightly together I can feel every. Hard. Inch. Of him.

Everything about this night so far, from the dress to the dinner to the company, is making me soft. I can feel it in my bones. No matter how hard I try to resist, I’m going to cave.

The problem, I think, is that this is the single most unexpected and romantic night of my life. It wasn’t that long ago that Ransom and Rebel were hiding me from the world. Neither of them wanted us going public, and at the time, I agreed that it was for the best, but that didn’t erase the hurt.

Keeping our relationships a secret made what we had feel sleazy.

Now that I am here, swaying in Rebel’s strong arms, in front of a room full of people, I feel good. Elated. Until now, I never considered how damaging to the ego it could be to pursue someone who was more worried about losing their job or damaging their reputation than they were me.

With Rebel, I no longer have to hide. He twirls me on his arm proudly despite who I am. He’s well aware of my stripper status and he doesn’t care. He hasn’t shamed me or branded me. He hasn’t asked me to change. He just accepts me, and you can’t put a price on something like that. For those reasons, I am willing to shelve Ransom’s claims for a while longer and bask in the warm feelings Rebel instills in me.

“Red is your color,” Rebel murmurs as he turns us to avoid colliding with a couple whose feet are eating up the dance floor heedless of everyone else.

“Thank you.” I shiver as his fingers slip beneath the thin straps of silk crisscrossing my back to stroke my skin.

In the two hours that we’ve been here, Rebel’s been nothing short of extraordinary. He seems to have checked his arrogant, commanding, moody self at the door. Standing in his place is a man who is confident, charming, and sexy with a smile that can light up a room. Cheesy, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I am completely enamored with him. In the span of an evening, he’s blended into the perfect combination of him and Ransom, making him damn near perfect and reinforcing my reason for pursuing him over his brother.

For a man whose face seems to be set in either a permanent scowl or devious smirk, he’s so different here. Surrounded by friends and associates, Rebel has come alive. It could just be an act, but I don’t think so. This man loves his job. If anyone looks stunning tonight, it’s him.

As one song bleeds into another, Rebel holds me closer, nearly cradling me in his arms. I accept the embrace, twining my hands behind his neck and propping my chin on his shoulder, careful not to smudge his expensive suit with makeup.

“Thank you for behaving tonight,” Rebel says into my ear. “I wasn’t sure if you could manage it, being so pissed off, but you’ve done well.”

As far as compliments go, it’s not great, but it’ll suffice. I have a feeling Rebel doesn’t give them out often, so it makes this one extra special.

“Everyone likes you. I think Jack Donnelly is smitten.”

“He’s married,” I say, chuckling.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true. He told me earlier to make sure you come along for my next trip to Maine. He owns an estate there and wants to get to know you better.”

“Oh, that’s too much,” I laugh in disbelief.

Drawing back, Rebel’s eyes flare. “It’s true! He insisted that you come. He’d be devastated if you didn’t.”

“Fine,” I say with an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “Count me in.  On your next trip to Maine, I’ll be sure to pack my bags.”

I don’t actually mean a word I’ve said. I have absolutely no intention of adding myself to Rebel’s no doubt mile long Mile High Club checklist. I should know by now, however, that speaking out of turn around Rebel has a tendency to carry consequences.

“Good. The plane is scheduled for takeoff tomorrow morning. I’ll let Tracy know to add an extra seat.”

My thoughts spin. “Wait, what just happened here? Tomorrow?” I ask, somewhat panicked.

“Of course. You should know my schedule by now. You’re not trying to back out on me, are you?” That damnable smirk is back. I want to slap it from his face.

“Back out on you? Rebel, you have to know I was joking,” I attempt to reason. “Even if I wanted to go—which I don’t—I have work tomorrow. I can’t just take off.”

“Sure you can. Just call and let them know you’re not coming in for a couple days. They’ll find someone to fill in for you.”

My jaw drops at what he believes to be an easy solution. “I know I don’t have as glamorous or acceptable employment as you’d probably like, but it’s my job and I take it seriously. I can’t just leave. It’s rude and irresponsible, neither of which I am.”

“Despite it not being your life’s ambition, I agree,” he says seriously. “Your dedication is a quality I find very endearing, but you made a promise and it would be rude not to follow through. So, I’m holding you to it.” With a seductive smirk, he tucks something cool and hard between my cleavage. “You’ll be needing this back.”

Angling my head down, I reach between my boobs and retrieve my phone. I give him an arch look. “I’m not going with you,” I tell him firmly as I drop the phone in my purse. Feeling the need for space so I can get my head together and banish the urge to throttle him, I pull away. “I need to use the restroom.”

Grasping my wrist, Rebel holds me in place and lowers his mouth to my ear. “You’re going. The sooner you accept it, the quicker we’ll be able to enjoy all the fun parts I have planned. Now,” he says louder, slapping my ass, “hurry back. My speech is in ten minutes and I want to be able to look out and see your face while I make it.”

“You’re an insufferable ass,” I growl.

“More name calling, pussycat?” he muses. “We’ll see how mouthy you are when I stuff my cock down your throat later.”

Oh, he is just too much!

Whirling around, I storm away from the dance floor in search of the bathrooms. Rebel has a damn answer for everything, and it usually involves his dick. I should be furious with him for talking to me like that, but I’m furious with myself instead, because now all I can think about is wrapping my mouth around that thick, hard length.