When Falon pulled her body close to his, she began to question the intelligence of this plan. Her rebellious body thrilled at the chest to knee contact with the hard contours of his. She found herself fighting a losing battle to mold herself further into his embrace. The feel of his body against hers felt so right that she had to shake her head to dislodge the rioting images of just how right his body was. When he placed his warm hand on the exposed small of her back, Sarah was sure he could feel her heart hammering to escape the prison of her ribcage.

Unsure what to do with her arms Sarah placed them on his broad shoulders. Sure, she had suggested they dance but she hadn’t planned on it feeling like high school prom all over again. She was trying to blow his mind and all she could come up with was adolescent awkward. He ran a hand up her spin and stopped it between her should blades effectively trapping her in his arms and forcing her closer. Apparently he skipped the awkward phase. With no other option, she linked her arms around his neck and held on as he began to gracefully sway them around the floor.

After a moment of silence, Falon slowly dipped his head as if to nuzzle her neck. Sarah’s treacherous body responded like the wanton creature it was turning out to be, and she found herself tilting her head in anticipation.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re up to?” His harsh whisper shattered any delicious idea of him nibbling his way up her neck to her awaiting lips. Startled out of her body’s overheated reaction to his closeness, she could only look up at him in mute confusion.

“Don’t give me that deer-in-the-headlights look. I know what you’re up to and it’s not going to work.” He stared at her for a moment before begrudgingly adding, “No matter how sexy you look.”

He thought she was sexy? She’d had the idea that he liked the way she looked tonight, but his behavior at the club had given her doubts. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back up at the man who spoke so fiercely yet held onto her like she was a precious treasure that he was worried would break if he held on to tightly.

“I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about.” She smirked at his shocked expression. Did he really believe that a few harsh words in her ear and she would spill her guts? The man had a serious problem underestimating her and she was not above using that to her advantage. He growled in response and the guttural, masculine sound pushed her desire from a slow simmer to a raging boil. Maybe there was something to this caveman thing after all.

After three tense minutes of Falon’s body slowly sliding against hers, she nearly jumped at the offer of drinks. He made sure to keep a hand securely on the small of her back and she didn’t know whether it was just gentlemanly behavior or if the man was deliberately trying to drive her crazy with lust. The quicksilver gleam of mischief in his eyes had her betting on the latter. She definitely needed that drink. The stronger, the better.

Slamming back the shot of tequila she ordered the second Falon excused himself to use the restroom, she shuddered as the heat of the alcohol burned through her system. A few more of these and her over-sensitive body wouldn’t be able to feel anything, let alone the urgent need to be in Falon’s arms, sans clothes.

“Whoa, slow down there,” Marcy said as she shook her head at the bartender when she tried to order another shot. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s the occasion?” Marcy asked looking her over.

“It’s a long story,” Sarah answered, leaning heavily on the bar. Apparently someone who doesn’t drink shouldn’t take two straight shots of top shelf tequila and expect to walk away unscathed. She felt Marcy’s eyes on her and fought the need to fidget. The woman had a way of putting her on the spot and forcing the truth from her. Sometimes she hated that about her.

“He’s the one isn’t he.” Not a question. Marcy’s statement had her whipping her head up. A move she instantly regretted as it caused the whole room to tip precariously to one side. Stabilizing herself with a death grip on the bar, she narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Oh save it. I know all about the guy who hurt you in college.” Holding up a stalling hand when Marcy saw she was about to argue she continued. “You didn’t have to say anything. I may not know the details but I know the signs and you, my dear, have them all.”

She had signs? What was that supposed to mean? Either the tequila was interfering with her thought process or Marcy was speaking in code. Probably fifty-fifty, she mused as the room tried to pirouette again.

“I don’t know what he did, or when, but you need to be careful that he doesn’t do it again. Falon Wolfe may be the hottest thing to walk into our agency in a long time, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him walk all over you.”

Sarah felt her chest tighten. She knew that Marcy thought of her as a friend, but she didn’t think the other woman cared that much.

“Don’t worry about me Marcy, I’m just going to teach him a lesson.”

Marcy studied her with worried eyes for a moment before giving her a reluctant nod.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Always.”

“And I want the details.” Marcy winked and suddenly the mood was light again.

“Not tonight,” Sarah answered as she spotted Falon weaving his way toward them again. She watched as nearly every woman paused to watch him walk past and warmth spread in her chest at the thought of him being there with her. As soon as she thought it, she banished the idea. He wasn’t there with her. They weren’t together. Her head was convinced but when he gave her that slow seductive smile of his, she had a hard time convincing her overactive libido.

She could only sit on her bar stool and keep a firm hold on the bar’s surface as she watching his trim body approach. She felt a goofy grin pull at her lips but she was helpless to stop it, the man was too damn handsome for his own good. When he stopped directly in front of her, she noticed his sexy grin had morphed into a look of concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Tequila,” Marcy answered for her. Sarah realized it was a good thing because with Falon so close, her mouth had suddenly turned into a desert.

He studied her for a moment before nodding. “I think it’s time I got you home.”

“What? But I thought …” Her words were cut off by his stern look.

“Sorry to cut the night short but I think someone needs to go home and sleep the liquor off.”

She felt herself bristle at the way he was taking charge, talking about her like she wasn’t sitting right in front of him. She wasn’t a child damn it, and she stood to give him an earful when the room chose to spin once again. Lesson of the night: heels and tequila don’t mix.

“You guys have a good night,” Falon said over his shoulder as he half led, half carried her out of the club. How humiliating.

“I can walk too you know,” she mumbled as she tried to wrench her arm away from his strong but gentle hold.

“And have that pretty little face of yours meet pavement? Not on your life.”

He thought she was pretty? Not the time Sarah. She was supposed to be making him wild with lust not feel like her babysitter.

“Not now Sarah,” he said as if guessing her intentions. “You can pick up whatever game you’re playing tomorrow. Right now you need to get home, take some aspirin, and get in bed or risk a hell of a headache.”

Falon unlocked the passenger door and gently deposited her inside. When had they reached the car? Maybe she really was out of it. But admitting to it would be admitting that he was right and she just wasn’t ready for that kind of confession. Leaning back against the headrest, she watched Falon cross the front of the car through narrowed, sleepy eyes.