Chapter Ten

Han knew he was at fault, but it took a while to get past the anger and figure out why he was upset. He didn’t want to admit he was his own problem. Jade was nothing like the entitled, rich women he’d begged money from as a child, so as much as he wanted to lump her in with all the bad experiences in his past, he couldn’t. But it was more than that. He hated this overpowering need to be in her company. And because of that desire, he’d made some bad decisions.

He shouldn’t have brought her to Let’s Dance. He knew she wasn’t ready but convinced himself he could make it work. He had no business wanting a woman so badly he made stupid decisions. His mother made enough of those to last him a lifetime. If it was possible, he’d happily never see Jade again to avoid that pitfall. But it wasn’t. So between his internal battle and getting Cat to tell him where Jade was, it was a couple hours before he knew where to find her. Which was someplace he rarely went because he risked being swarmed by fans. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to be on the beach long.

She was easy to spot between her pale blond hair and the giant beach umbrella she sat under. He shoved his baseball hat into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked up to her and dropped down onto the sand next to her.

“You’ve made a loyal friend.” He removed his sunglasses and set them down next to him. She didn’t look at him, but didn’t move away either, even though he’d purposefully invaded her personal space zone.

“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“You must be feeling better.” His gaze roamed her profile, pausing a moment to admire her long, golden lashes. They were darker than her eyebrows, which were just shy of being white. He hadn’t noticed that before. “I’m talking about Cat. I had a hell of a time getting her to tell me where you were. Though I think she meant to tell me all along. She was just stalling to give you time.”

She glanced at him and then at the ocean. “Tell her thanks next time you see her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “What you think it means. I’m not setting foot in Let’s Dance ever again. As much as I like Cat.”

“Slightly over-dramatic reaction, don’t you think?” The same could be said for the way his gut twisted at the thought.

“No. And not for the reasons you think.”

She didn’t look at him, her attention absorbed by something on the ocean. His eyes followed the direction of her gaze, but he couldn’t see anything worth looking at so intently.

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” God, he hoped that was true. Though half the time he didn’t even know what he was thinking.

“You think I don’t want to go back because I’m embarrassed.”

Hell. What else had she figured out? “And it’s not? Or at least part of it?”

She shook her head and still she didn’t look at him. “I’m through with all of it. Just trying to figure out how to break the news to Lexi.”

His stomach sank. And not because he’d failed with a student for the first time in his life. Though technically it was the first time he’d taught someone for reasons other than because they wanted to improve their dance skills. Just thinking about it made him want to squirm. But that was just an ego thing. He’d learned early in his career to ignore his ego. Right now, he wished the problem was his ego. Egos, though fragile, were much simpler than what he was dealing with.

He looked over at her. For a long time. She truly was beautiful, not in the classic sense, not in the way that normally appealed to him. But in a way that compelled him nonetheless. And judging by the way he’d seen other men look at her, he wasn’t the only one to feel that way. It consumed him now, the way it had that first night. Which forced him to acknowledge his attraction had nothing to do with a bad case of claustrophobia. To hell with it!

He took hold of her chin, not aggressively, but in a way that said he meant business, and captured her mouth. He’d been aching for it since this morning, and the intensity of his desire at the mere touch of her mouth made him gather her in his arms and push her back on the sand. Her instant response was his undoing. Common sense flew out the window. She was so sensual under that stiff, cool façade. Was it why she had such a strong reaction to what her stepfather had done?

The need to feel all of her more than he needed to dance overwhelmed him and he groaned from the depths of his being. He should’ve kissed her like this at the beach this morning, or the first night he brought her to his house. At least then they’d have the privacy needed to reach a satisfying conclusion. Still, knowing they were on a public beach didn’t stop him. Not that he wasn’t going to stop. He would. Soon. Just not yet. His thoughts spun away. All he could do was feel. Her. And it felt like he’d finally, after a lifetime, found his home. The place he wanted to be for the rest of his life.

No. Hell no!

He stiffened and scrambled to a sitting position. His heart thundered, and he raked his fingers through his hair. The thought wasn’t enough to cool his desire but was enough to make him stop in his tracks. No woman was ever going to have that kind of power over him. He looked at her as she sat up next him, breathing heavily, and he shut his eyes to rid himself of the sight before it tempted him to doing something he absolutely should not do. A mere kiss and he felt ready to explode.

She blew out an exasperated breath and darted a look at him before returning her attention to the ocean. “Was that an attempt to change my mind, or something else?”

“I don’t know what the hell that was. Momentary insanity?”

Suddenly restless, he looked around the beach. Apparently no one noticed them almost spontaneously combust. Thank goodness. He mentally shook his head. Only on Venice Beach.

She was silent for so long, he returned his attention to her. Aw hell…She had tears in her eyes.

“Jade…” He swore under his breath. “I am so sorry, chica, I did not mean to treat you poorly. The last thing I want is for you to put me in the same category as your stepfather.”

She whipped her head around and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. He looked down at her hand. Such a contrast against his darker skin. He wondered what she would look like draped across him, what his hands would look like on her, the picture her hair would make covering his bare chest. His heart thumped hard, and he ran the back of his finger along her forearm. He couldn’t resist. He needed to touch her somewhere. Goose bumps raised in her skin, but she didn’t flinch or pull away from the contact. Hell, she didn’t even finger that damn necklace. Something twisted in his gut when he realized how much he liked that his touch was acceptable to her, but the empty feeling he got when she removed her hand made him clench his teeth. Her touch shouldn’t be so important.

“It’s not that at all, Han. You make me want…things. Things I was perfectly happy doing without before you came along. Things I didn’t believe I’d ever want. And I just can’t deal with it all. It’s too much.”

“Then it’s probably not the best time to make decisions either. Especially ones that will affect other people. So, this leads me to a crazy idea.”

She groaned. “Why am I not surprised? This day will go down in history as the day of crazy ideas. You’ve sucked me into two of them so far. Are you thinking ‘third time’s the charm?’”

“Hoping? Praying?” He raised his brows, a teasing smile on his lips as he looked at her. “Are you game?”

If he had to judge by her posture, he’d say, ‘No’. She sat up straight and wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them to her chest. She squinted her eyes against the glare as she looked at the ocean. Again. Why was she having such a hard time looking at him? More importantly, why the hell did he care?

She barked out a laugh. “You are going to be the death of me, Alejandro Rivera, I swear. What is it with you getting me to be, and do, things I avoid like the plague?”

He stifled a groan. She had the same effect on him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one, but he sure as hell didn’t like it. And there was no way he’d let her know it either. Never in his life had he gone to the lengths he had today to be with a woman. Hell, he’d spent less energy getting away from them.

He let out an exasperated breath as a woman walked by them and did a double take, then grabbed his sunglasses from the sand. After putting them on, he pulled the baseball cap from his back pocket and shoved it on his head, yanking the bill down so it shaded his face. Thankfully the woman merely kept walking.

“Spill it.”

“Dinner and dancing at The Conga Room.”

She said something foul; he tried not to smile.

“You are out of your mind. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the opportunity to have dinner at a place like The Conga Room, but just the thought of being on a dance floor in a crowd gives me the willies.”

“Ah, but this is the best part. We can get a VIP room and not have to be in the crowd. It’s one of my favorite hangouts. I can enjoy dancing, some live music, and not have to worry about being bothered by fans.”

She pursed her lips, and he fought the desire to kiss her until she agree to go. He was not going to care whether she accepted his offer or not. This was about Beck’s wedding gift, nothing more. He didn’t want her to bail on his friend and her sister like she was threatening to.

She bit her lip, and he clenched his hand when he realized he was about to run a soothing finger over the spot her teeth abused. She took a deep breath and he lowered his gaze. His nails bit into his palm as he fought the urge to caress a chest he decided right then was the absolute perfect size.

“So, if we get there, and I decide dancing in public is more than I can handle, you’re okay with that?”

Was he? What if this plan backfired too? Time was running out. Could he afford to waste more of it when she wanted out? But how else was he supposed to get her used to the idea of dancing in front of people and help her realize it wasn’t something she needed to worry about? He knew she had the talent. Now he needed to find a way to get her past her fears so the talent could shine. Hell. He wanted to hang out with her at a dance club. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with teaching her to dance for Beck’s wedding.

He shrugged to make it look like it didn’t matter. “Sí.” He cringed inwardly. When Spanish was the first thing out of his mouth, it wasn’t a good sign.

“I’ll make you a deal. You let me drive your Porsche for the rest of our time together today and I’ll go to The Conga Room with you. If I can go home and change first. I’m definitely not dressed for a nightclub.”

His stomach sank. No one drove his Porsche.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. You’re fortunate I brought it here rather than the truck.”

Oh yeah. He was seriously messed up. And he didn’t think his stomach could go any lower until they were in his car and she looked at him, gave him a huge grin and chuckled in a way he could only describe as wicked. He groaned, threw his head back against the head rest, and gritted his teeth. “Behave yourself! I’ve paid for this car with blood, sweat, tears, and more pain than you’ll ever experience in your entire life. You wreck it, and I will kill you.”

She laughed. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’m not going to wreck this beautiful machine. I’m going to savor every minute of driving it. Buckle up.” She started the car and looked over at him again. “Han, it’s okay. I’ve had a bit of experience driving sports cars like this. My high school boyfriend taught me a lot about these machines. His father owned a dealership that sold them, and he always had something new and fun to drive from his father’s lot.”

He looked at her silently for several moments. “That’s not helping.” He buckled his seat belt. “You might want to get moving before I change my mind.”

She gave him another huge smile, put the car in gear and shot away from the curb like a rocket. He was going to kill her.

If she didn’t kill them first.

Though after five minutes as her passenger, he realized he was wrong. She did know what she was doing. Why had he expected anything less? To enjoy speeding through traffic like an Indy driver was totally at odds with her uptight personality, yet in another way it wasn’t. It was the nature of the accountant to do everything just so, to make sure the numbers add up right. Why would driving be any different? Whatever she took on she would work at until she had it down perfectly. It was her love of driving that surprised him more than how good she was at it. Still, it took him a while to get past the fear of her ruining his precious car—and them with it. All the way to her house in fact.

She looked at him over her shoulder as they entered her apartment and rather than give him his keys, she put them on a hook next to the door. “I am seriously considering stealing your car.”

“Is that why you didn’t give me my keys?”

“I’m the designated driver for the evening, remember?”

“I better not live to regret it. Now, hurry and get dressed. I’m hungry.”

As soon as she left, he prowled around the room, interested in what he could learn about her. To help him with her dance lessons. That was all. Certainly not because he wanted to know her better. That would be stupid. It led nowhere good.

Next to a black leather couch was a full magazine rack, which, judging by that ugly black dress of hers, probably wasn’t filled with fashion magazines. Squatting down, he rifled through them. Number puzzle books. All of them. He took one out and flipped through it, then did the same with several more. They weren’t easy ones and were all solved. In ink. She really had a thing for numbers. To spend all day working with them and then come home and do number puzzles for entertainment? He was impressed and wondered if she played pool. Being good with numbers could give someone a decided edge in that game. He knew from experience.

He stood and meandered over to a bookshelf. The edge of his mouth quirked up as he swiped a finger along it. As he suspected, no dust. He looked closer at the books. No way. Not only were they arranged alphabetically by author, the author’s books were arranged alphabetically by title. If he hadn’t seen her dance moves in the studio, he’d say she was too left-brain oriented to dance at all. As it was, the puzzles and the organized book shelf were enough to tell him he needed to overcome an instinctive desire to over-analyze her dance moves and think about it all too much. Dancing needed to be felt first.

He turned his attention to the photos on the top shelf in coordinated black frames. There was a picture of a young Jade cuddling an orange tabby cat. The expression on her face told how much she adored the animal. Damn was she ever adorable.

He shook his head at himself and quickly looked at the picture next to it. She was a little older, sitting on a couch, with Lexi and a woman who had to be her mother, as she looked a lot like Jade. He didn’t like the funny feeling that one gave him, so he moved on. There was one of her and a teenage Lexi at Santa Monica Pier with a couple who looked old enough to be their grandparents. Were they? She’d never mentioned them. Though why would she? But surely she and Lexi would’ve moved in with them when her mother died if they were. The people who originally owned her business perhaps?

The last one was a picture of her and Lexi with a small group of friends at a restaurant drinking champagne and eating cake. Jade proudly held up what looked to be a diploma. He got another funny feeling in his stomach. He snorted at himself in disgust and threw himself down on the couch. Hanging on the wall to one side of a flat panel television was a print of Picasso’s Hands Holding Flowers. On the other, a print of William Michael Harnett’s Secretary’s Table. Quite telling.

****

It wasn’t until she opened her closet door that she realized finding something suitable to wear might be rather problematic. She had her share of nice clothes, she ran a business after all, but there was a huge difference between business clothes and what she could wear to a place like The Conga Room. Sexy she absolutely did not do. Except for her underwear. Which no one could see when she wore it, and thus would never give a man the wrong idea. Theoretically. Damn you, Alejandro Rivera.

The fact she had no fashion sense didn’t help either. Surely there was something here that would work? Besides the black stilettos, which she pulled out and set on the bed. Probably not very conducive to dancing but then, that wasn’t happening, so no worries. She scoured her closet several times over and came up with nothing. Well, almost nothing. A pair of shiny black stretch capris she used for her workout would probably suffice, but as for the top, she’d narrowed down her choices to a plain white blouse or a colorful, semi-casual T-shirt. Deciding the blouse was just too accountant, she went with the T-shirt. It did hug her figure rather flatteringly. She shrugged. It would have to do.

Han stood up from the couch when she joined him in the living room and the expression on his face…Priceless. The way those topaz eyes perused her from head to toe as though he’d touched every inch of her made her skin feel too tight and her heart pound in her ears. After the very thorough once-over, the you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me message came through loud and clear. Did he say it out loud?

“Uh, no. Not happening. Have you no fashion sense? Do you know what kind of place The Conga Room is?

“Of course I do, this is my home town, but I don’t do the nightlife, bar-scene, party-crowd thing. Therefore, I don’t have the requisite—er—sexy wardrobe. Did you seriously think I’d have a leather mini skirt handy?”

He shook his head. Most likely he hadn’t thought about it at all. He stood up and looked at her again with his hands on his hips. “You’ve got the shoes.” He eyes darkened. “And the underwear…” His voice petered away, and he swallowed as he looked away for a moment. His face was expressionless when he looked at her again.

Her face, on the other hand, became unbearably hot, though she desperately willed it not to. He knew. He had seen down her dress that day. She didn’t even know what to say to that. Ignore it seemed the best route. “Yeah, well, Lexi picked out the shoes and…” She looked down at her feet and cleared her throat. “My underwear, underneath my clothes, isn’t going to give a guy the wrong idea now, is it?”

She looked at him, and he raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He didn’t have to. Instead he walked over, placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

“Back to the bedroom. Let’s see what I can come up with. In my line of work, I’ve had quite a bit of wardrobe experience, as well as making do in a pinch.”

He flicked back and forth through the clothes in her closet several times before exclaiming, “You have got to be fricking kidding me!”

He turned to her where she sat on the bed watching him, narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “There’s nothing in here but dress slacks, solid color blouses, yoga pants and t-shirts. Never in a million years did I dream I’d spend any length of time with a woman who has a wardrobe like that. Though I didn’t see that black dress you were wearing the first time we met.”

She crossed her arms and looked at him mutinously.

“Ha! You got rid of it, didn’t you?”

She ignored the remark. “Does this mean I don’t have to go to The Conga Room?” Her heart sank. Which was stupid, because it really wasn’t anything she wanted to do. Seriously.

“Oh, you’re going all right. Even if I have to take you shopping first.”

“No way. I’m not buying something I will never wear again after tonight. It’s the same as flushing money down the toilet.”

“Of course not. Practical Jade Nichols would never spend money on something frivolous.”

“Are we done here then? You leaving?”

“Not on your life, woman.”

His gaze wandered around the room, landing on her dresser, and her stomach knotted. He wouldn’t dare go through her underwear and night clothes with her sitting right there. Would he? What would it accomplish?

Before she could stop him, he was at the dresser, pulling open drawers and rifling through them. And laughing. Wickedly. Triumphantly. She wanted to die. He was looking at, touching, things no one had seen before. She didn’t like the thrill that went through her at the sight of his hands on her underwear, either. Really, she didn’t. She wasn’t going to think about what those hands would look like taking that underwear off of her. She was not. Goose bumps broke out all over when she was unable to stop where her mind went. It happened again when he gave another triumphant chuckle. Made her stomach do some crazy acrobatics too before it sank to her toes. He held out a red, lacy camisole, the straps dangling from his forefingers.

“This will do nicely.”

“No way. That’s a pajama top. I’m not wearing it in public. Besides, my bra will show through it.”

“Now you’re talking. What color bra are you wearing? If it’s red, it’s not even going to matter. The lace isn’t that see-through. Or you can change into a red one.”

“Black.” Why the hell had she even answered that question? This was insane.

“Even better. By the way, I love your choices in nighttime attire. It’s the day stuff that needs serious work.”

She let out a frustrated growl. “You are absolutely out of your mind if you think I’m wearing that camisole with my bra on display anywhere outside of this apartment.”

She crossed her arms and gave him a mutinous look. It didn’t help that right then she realized all the crazy sensations zinging around inside her were because he was turning her on. In a bit of a panic, she watched as he flung the top so it landed on the bed next to her and went back to the closet.

“Trust me, you’ll be more covered up than most of the women there,” he said as he hunted through her closet again. “Here we go.” He pulled out a black, iridescent sleeveless blouse, took it off the hanger and threw it at her before returning the empty hanger to the closet. “Wear that over it, but don’t button it. With the tight pants and the high heels, you’ll do.”

Speechless, all she could do was stare at him.

He raised his brows. “Are you going to need my help getting dressed?”

She managed to shake her head. She could’ve done without that visual. Han, taking off her clothes…

“Take your hair down, too. Just in case I want to run my fingers through it.”

And then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

****

As soon as he shut the door, he made a beeline for the kitchen. An ice cold glass of water was a desperate attempt to cool himself down. If merely looking at her night clothes and underwear did this to him, what would happen if he saw her dressed in nothing but?

He didn’t care if she thought he was rude for looking through her kitchen cupboards and helping himself when she hadn’t offered. He was desperate. After finding a glass, he went to the refrigerator to fill it with ice and water from the dispenser on the door, pausing momentarily to shake his head at the calendar and lists neatly lined up on the refrigerator door.

He downed the water, refilled his glass and was ready to take another swallow when she walked in the kitchen. Thank goodness she hadn’t come in a millisecond later, or he would have choked on it. She looked so hot he desperately wanted to douse himself with the water instead of drink it. Instead, he slowly lowered the glass and set it on the counter.

“Now we’re talking, chica.” Before he realized it, he’d spoken in his sexy voice. The one he used when he wanted to turn a woman on as much as he was. When he wanted to entice her to do wicked things with him in private.

She took a step back and narrowed her eyes at him. “If the men at this place are going to be looking at me like you are, deal or no deal, I’m not going.”

He barely stopped himself from telling her any man that looked at her thinking what he was thinking would end up with a black eye. He didn’t like knowing he felt that way. She certainly wasn’t going to know.

“I’ve already made sure they have a private room for us, so most of the guys there won’t be able to see you. No one is going to hassle you. I’ll make sure of it. You are not backing out of our deal. You tortured me driving my car; now it’s my turn.” He grinned and winked, then changed the subject. For his benefit. He was on the verge of doing things he knew he’d regret. For Beck’s sake, he couldn’t screw this up. “I like your place. The only thing I didn’t expect to see here is a Picasso print. His work is so chaotic and you’re so…not.”

She gave him a cheeky smile. “I know, right? I have no idea why, but I’ve always liked his stuff.”

“Something else we have in common other than the love of my Porsche. Shall we go?”

****

Jade was surprised to realize she was enjoying herself. She felt like a voyeur sitting in their private room with the sliding glass doors closed to keep people out, but the curtains open so they could watch the patrons dancing and enjoying themselves. The flashing lights, the DJ entertaining the crowd, the seventies-esque décor of the place. It was a sight and sound extravaganza, and she’d never experienced anything like it. Even though she was born and raised in L.A. How lame was that?

The food was fantastic. As well as the tequila they currently enjoyed. Though it was a little odd to her that the server wouldn’t let them pour their drinks themselves. Still, it hadn’t kept them from getting a full glass every time they needed one. She wondered if that might be part of the reason she was enjoying herself so much.

Han wasn’t the only celebrity in attendance. She’d glimpsed a few others entering or exiting their own private rooms, and security roamed around looking like the secret service to make sure the glitterati could enjoy themselves hassle-free, as well as keep any altercations from getting out of hand.

She was glad Han forced her into coming. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Though she was tempted to change her mind about that when he tried to convince her to get out on the dance floor.

“Ai ai ai, you are the most unusual woman I’ve ever met. You know how many women here would give anything to dance with Alejandro Rivera?” His tone was incredulous, and it sounded as though he was referring to someone other than himself.

“Everyone but me, most likely.” She looked at the glass in her hand and frowned. The trouble was, she wanted to take him up on the offer. A first for her. But she couldn’t get past the too-many-people-too-close-together aspect. The thought of being part of the crowd had her hyperventilating. She looked at him and she feared her feelings were written on her face because his countenance softened.

“Ahh, chica…You do want to.”

Stupid tequila. She slammed her glass down on the table. “I just remembered I’m the designated driver tonight. I need to lay off this stuff and start drinking coffee. As it is, it’s going to be a while before I should be driving.”

He gave a careless shrug. “I have a limo service in my phone contacts for just such occasions. A little more tequila might loosen you up enough to get you past your issues. Or maybe a lot more. I’ve been the one doing most of the drinking here.”

“Are you suggesting I get drunk?”

Maybe she already had too much. Certainly he wasn’t that kind of man? She wasn’t a bad judge of character. Was she?

“It does have the tendency to lower one’s inhibitions.”

“That is exactly why I have no desire to do it.”

He looked at her and blinked slowly. “You’ve never been drunk.”

“My God, you say it like it’s a crime.”

He shook his head and looked at her for several moments in silence. “I’m not suggesting you get pass-out drunk. Just slightly…” He waved his drink around and his eyebrows pulled together. “What’s the word I want? Inebriated. Personally, I think it would do you a world of good.”

It was her turn to look at him silently, at a loss for words. Maybe she’d already had too much to drink. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

He leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms. A smile played about his lips. “Serious as a heart attack, mi amiga.”

She snorted in disgust as she too leaned back on the couch that sat perpendicular to the one he was on. “You’re insane. What do I have to do to get a server over here? I need to get serious about some coffee so we can go home.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I am not. That’s stupid. Why would anyone be afraid of getting drunk? And we’re not teenagers, Han. That’s the kind of peer-pressure tactics high-schoolers use.”

“I’m no high-schooler.”

This panther could purr, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver she couldn’t suppress from head to toe.

“This is no tactic. I’m stating a fact. You are afraid of getting drunk because you don’t want to lose control.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle the damn it that sprang to her lips. She wasn’t necessarily afraid as much as she didn’t want to lose control. She liked being in control. It made her happy. Truly. “It’s about not wanting to have the hangover afterward.”

“That’s just an added bonus of not over-indulging.” He uncrossed his arms and sat up. “Listen, I know how hard it is to feel like your world is out of control, but I also know how freeing it can be to give up control. It’s just you and me in our own little world here. I’ll make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Unless, of course, you get drunk, too.”

He chuckled. “Then you won’t be alone in your stupidity. We’ll be stupid together.”

“Except that if I get drunk with Alejandro Rivera, it’s highly likely the paparazzi—who are crawling all over this place—will share it with the world. Much less anyone who has a camera on their phone.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. Was she actually considering something so crazy? It wasn’t like he was suggesting she get so wasted she blacked out. Just drunk enough for her to…She put her head in her hands. To be normal. To be able to act like everyone else in the place and go out on the dance floor. That just plain sucked. To need alcohol in order to act like a regular person. But maybe, just maybe, using alcohol to get past her issues this once would make it easier to get past them next time without the liquid courage. For good. But did she want Han to be the one there for her while she tested the waters? Though his idea had merit, it should be Lexi who was the one there for her while she gave it a try.

She bit back a sigh, wiped her hands down her face and sat up straight. Except that right now, for the next several weeks, it was about what Lexi wanted and needed, not about her. Once her sister was married, nothing in Jade’s world needed to be about Lexi anymore.

Who was she kidding? Without Han egging her on, she would chicken out. It seemed easier to run from her issues than face them. What was it about Han that made her tired of the running?

She sat up, grabbed her glass and downed its contents in one go, then coughed and thumped her chest.

“Hey, take it easy. Drinking it quickly isn’t necessary. This is some nice tequila. Savor it.”

She coughed again. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Much easier to sip it.”

“Sit back, relax and enjoy. I’ll make sure you don’t overdo it.”

“You have no idea what overdoing it for me is. I have no idea what that is.” She swiped a hand down her face. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“No harm done, and you were able to enjoy a mighty fine bottle of tequila.”

“I think the mere fact you were able to talk me into this shows I’ve had too much already.”

He laughed softly. “I hope you’re not that uptight.”

****

He was the one who had too much. Suggesting she drink enough to lose her inhibitions was not one of his better ideas. For her, it worked nicely. For him, well…He would really appreciate some of those inhibitions that made her vigilant about her personal space right about now. He was enjoying the physical contact too much for his own good. And hers. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to indulge himself. To drive her back to his place, give her another shot of tequila and enjoy its after-effects in his bed. Repeatedly. Like he’d done with a hundred other women. Well, not a hundred, and not that he needed to get them drunk to sleep with him, but still…Why in the world was this one different?

Not going there.

And could she dance. A little rough around the edges since she was basically untutored, but if he could get her to dance the same way at the wedding, they’d give them one hell of a show.

Get a grip, Rivera. It’s a wedding, not a performance. This wasn’t for his television program, for god’s sake. He didn’t need to put on an award-winning show, and he seriously shouldn’t even care. His days for entertaining were over. He’d been doing it since he was a kid, and his life was on a different path now. A path he was completely ready for.

Between the pointers he gave her and the tequila, she was doing the cha-cha-chá like nobody’s business. She could shake it with the best of them. Just watching her at arm’s length sent rockets off inside him, and when she shimmied up close and personal, it was nearly impossible to continue dancing when all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, haul her back his house and get down and dirty. So before she could rub against him again, he grabbed her hand and hauled her off the dance floor. Yeah, she hadn’t even cared about being on a crowded dance floor.

“It’s hot, I need a drink.” Talk about lame excuses.

“Aww, but I’m having fun. Don’t wanna quit yet.”

He blew out a frustrated breath and glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’s late and the noise is giving me a headache. This scene is much more fun when you have a few drinks in you and mine wore off long ago.”

She tripped along behind him in silence for a few seconds. “‘Kay. If you’re not feeling good, let’s go.”

When they reached their room, he slid the doors and the curtains closed behind them and moved to the back. His sigh of relief died in his throat when he turned around and she was right there. She draped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. His hands automatically landed on her hips, his fingers tightening in an effort to keep them from going anywhere else. How could something so wrong feel so right? She fit perfectly against him, like she was his other half. Thoughts swirled around in his head for a moment, then vanished like they never existed. Blood thundered in his ears, and her voice sounded a long way off.

“Kiss me, Han. A real kiss. Like you never want to stop. I haven’t been kissed like that since high school.”

With her plastered against him, there was no way he could do anything but. He moved his hands to the small of her back and pressed her into him, half hoping it was enough to scare her off so she would put an end to it. They were playing with fire and there was no doubt he’d have burns to show for it.

When she wiggled slightly, the fire burning in his gut snaked through him until every cell was quivering with a need so strong he could hardly breathe. He crushed her lips under his. The rushing, dropping feeling of their first kiss, which he’d blamed on the movement of the elevator, engulfed him. Hell…It was her. The feel, the taste, the scent. Not the elevator at all.

He made a guttural noise and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer in a futile attempt to make her part of him. He needed her to be his. Now. But it was more than that. He ached with the need to be part of her, one with her. If it’d been humanly possible, he would’ve gladly climbed inside her. It seemed the only way to fill the aching need inside him. It was foreign, even a bit frightening, but worse than that, he sensed the only way he could truly be whole, to find real peace, was to lose himself in her.

As torturous as it was to drag himself out of that place, all he could do was thank God for the server’s voice asking if they needed anything from the other side of the door.

He disentangled himself from her, desperately hoping she didn’t see how his hands were shaking. He stepped back a pace and clasped them behind his back. His voice came out as a croak.

“Could you bring us the check?”

Damn was she gorgeous. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes sparkled with desire. He ground his teeth together and clenched his hands more tightly to stop himself from pulling her back in his arms, from exploring every inch of her with his hands and mouth. His gaze was snared by the heaving of her chest as she breathed like she’d run a marathon, and tantalizing glimpses of white skin through black and red lace grabbed his attention. He closed his eyes to block out the sight in a desperate attempt to keep his hands to himself.

His voice was husky with his desire no matter what he did to prevent it. “I’ve never taken advantage of a woman who’s had too much to drink and I’m not about to start now. Time to call it quits, chica.”