She glanced down at her dress.
“It’s not the dress,” he murmured, leaning close enough to brush his lips against her ear. “It’s you.”
“I think that frothy vodka drink just snuck up on you.” She stepped forward and broke his hold on her.
No, Ivy. I never saw you coming.
But she was more than just a chance to pursue the unexpected.
She took his hand and gave it a small pull forward until he began to walk. They reached the edge of the polished wooden floorboards that separated the dance floor from the round, elaborately decorated tables. The fairy-filled trees created seemingly private “wooded” areas across the open, pillar-less space.
“Dance with me,” she said.
“And give you the chance to whisper sweet nothings about science and lab costs in my ear?” he protested.
Ivy stepped closer, leaving barely an inch between the triangles of fabric covering her breasts and the lapels of his tailored tux. He could reach out and trace the cutout nestled between her—
“Would you listen?” she asked.
No.
He should have walked away from the beautiful scientist in the seductive dress. Mixing business with the hope of pleasure spelled disaster. He’d indulged his desire for mystery long enough. But there was something so irresistible about her…
He looked into her bright blue eyes and studied the firm set of her jaw. “Would you back down if I refused?”
“No.”
The fire in her low tone took hold of his desire and refused to let go. “Good,” he murmured.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and shifted closer. Instinct, riding high on desire and lust, took hold. He reached for her. His hands wrapped around her waist, covering the gown’s elaborate folds. Her hips pressed against him as her back arched.
That cutout might push me over the line.
His grip tightened on her waist as he stared down at her breasts, which were threatening to play peek-a-boo with her gown. Did she realize her precarious position?
“You will let me explain why you need to keep the lab open?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. Because you have no clue how sexy you sound right now. Then he added in a low growl, “But don’t expect me to roll over and give in.”
Her hips swayed as she guided him onto the dance floor. The contact toyed with his sanity.
> “You don’t submit easily,” she said.
“Never,” he murmured.
“Good.” Her hands ran over his shoulder and down to the lapels of his tux. “But I should warn you, this might take more than one dance.”
Take all night. You feel so damn perfect right here, I never want to let you go.
She tried to maintain a straight face—and failed. Her lips formed a playful smile. The temptation to kiss his scientist in the middle of a crowded ballroom battled with his common sense.
Dr. Ivy Grant wasn’t here for romance. She had walked into his life wanting the one thing he couldn’t freely give: his investors’ money. Part of him wanted to take the risk, and bet on her. He wished he could toss aside his judgment and give her a damn good reason to kiss him.
He couldn’t give her what she wanted. But that didn’t mean he had to give up on stolen kisses and the promise of adventure.
He glanced over her shoulder and spotted familiar faces tracking his movements. First, he needed to lead her away from the curious crowd’s prying eyes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three potted plants. He danced her over to the pseudo-hedge. The ballroom seemingly disappeared. Lights sparkled behind her. The music persisted, but he spun her in a circle behind the trees.