Now she was too scared to let anyone get close enough.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She wondered if he’d heard her sigh. Great.
Nodding, she finally dared to look up at him. What she saw took her breath away.
It was bad enough working with Hunter day in and day out. That one moment in his arms lingered in her mind, always popping up at the most inappropriate times. Being this close to him again, seeing his cheeks faintly shadowed with stubble, the faded scar on his chin, those firm yet sensuous lips that knew just how to stun her silent, it was too much. His nearness immobilized her.
Which promptly caused him to step directly on her foot.
Wincing, she pressed her lips together and saw the realization dawn across his handsome face. “Shit, I’m sorry, Gracie.”
“It’s all right. No big deal.” She smiled bravely, though it felt more like a gritting of teeth. What else could she do? Curse out her boss for nearly breaking her toes? Her feet were already killing her from the super-high stilettos she wore. From the new Worthwhile line, they were a sparkly gold that her inner girly-princess couldn’t resist. Employee discounts were the best.
Luckily enough, she had some restraint or she’d be flat broke but dressed in style.
Did she wear the shoes to impress him? He was, after all, a leg man. She knew this because he’d confessed it during their brief interlude. One hand buried in her hair, the other halfway up her skirt, his hot breath giving her the shivers as he murmured in her ear.
Your legs drive me wild.
The memory popped up at the most inappropriate times.
He smiled, a flash of white teeth that dazzled her. “You’d never say anything bad to me, would you, Hayes? I swear, I could tell you you’re fired and you’d take it with a smile. Probably thank me for it when it was over too.”
Her heart sank. So he thought she was a pushover, huh? This is what happened when a woman was stupid enough to let her boss kiss her. It didn’t matter that they were both drunk and both at fault; he automatically thought she was the slut. “You’re so right. All I’ve ever wanted was to please the boss. I’m sure you’ll ask for a blowjob next and think I’ll magically give in. Heaven forbid I’d offend Hunter Worth, right? I mean, you already had your way with me once.”
His smile faded. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it sounded. I’m not that easy, despite what you think. I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at. I’m not about to let you believe I’m some sort of suck up who’ll say whatever you want to hear.”
“I was just making a joke, Gracie.” His expression was solemn as he led her about the dance floor with an effortless grace that made her insanely jealous, ridiculous as that was. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”
His immediate and sincere apology was a balm to her heated mood. Had she overreacted? Probably. But damn it, she couldn’t help it. She was sensitive to this sort of stuff. She’d been accused of one thing or another since she was a teen. No one in her corner, no one to defend her, it had always been her against the world.
Always.
“Maybe we should forget we ever had this conversation.” She looked away, her gaze locked on the table where she’d just been sitting. Becky still sat there, watching them dance. Eyebrows raised, her lips pursed. As if she knew something was going down.
Great. Gracie loved Becky. She was one of Gracie’s closest friends, one of her only friends. But Gracie knew she’d have some explaining to do later.
She didn’t want to talk about Hunter Worth with anyone, especially Becky. Her friend was perceptive enough that she might finally figure out Gracie had a major crush on her boss.
And she didn’t want anyone knowing that.
“Sounds good to me. I think you and I are pretty skilled at the avoiding thing, right?” He paused, his hot gaze locked with hers. She forcibly looked away. If he kept looking at her like that, there was no way they could avoid what had been brewing between them since that one night when everything changed. “So how about I buy you a drink to make up for all of my mistakes?”
She glanced back up at him in surprise. “The reception is open bar.”
There was that grin again. It made certain parts of her body way too happy every time he flashed it. “Then I should have no problem getting you a drink, right? What’s your poison?” His voice lowered. “Butterscotch martinis? Isn’t that what you were drinking—last time?”
You. He was her poison. A gorgeous devil bent on seducing her. Looking at him, being close to him was as heady as any alcohol. “I’m not a big drinker,” she said weakly. It was the truth. It always went straight to her head.
He knew this from firsthand experience.
“Champagne, then. It’s my drink of choice tonight. I’m in a celebratory mood.”
“Happy for Alex?”