A spurt of anger bubbled in his gut. “Don’t say it,” he warned. “Don’t say this was another mistake.”
Their gazes locked, his glinting with determination, hers expressionless. Then she stood, gingerly moved around him and walked toward a nearby table. The mechanical ringing stopped as she clicked on the cordless phone and placed it to her ear. The “hello” she uttered was curt, but her tone softened a second later. “Tanya, hi! No, sweetie, I’m not busy at all.”
Her voice sounded strained to Josh’s ears but when she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and turned to him, she spoke calmly and quietly. “It’s my daughter. I’ll take the call in my bedroom.”
As Josh watched her saunter away, his chest sagged. Inside him, a balloon of lust and anger, disappointment and hope, deflated as if someone had pricked it with a needle. It floated down to the pit of his stomach, coiling into a knot of pain.
The last thing he heard Vivian say before her bedroom door latched shut was, “No, honey, I was just talking to the pool boy.”
***
“I’d love to.”
Luke instantly cocked his head the second he heard Ellie’s voice break through the chatter of the club. Suspicion slammed into him like a gust of wind as he wondered what she’d just agreed to. No doubt something that would make him crazy.
Or turn him on.
Across the room, Ellie’s date stood up and held out his arm. Luke clenched his fists as he saw her take the guy’s hand and lead him to the jukebox. As they examined the song selections, Enrique’s hand slid down Ellie’s back to rest on the curve of her bottom.
Anger jolted through Luke like volts of electricity. He resisted every urge to run over there and slam his fist against the other man’s clean-shaven jaw.
Clamping his fingers against the beer bottle, he tried to calm himself. Okay, some guy had his hands on Ellie’s sweet ass. No big deal. It could be worse.
And a few moments later, Luke saw exactly how worse it could be.
As a sexy salsa number filled the room, Ellie and her date strolled onto the dance floor in front of the stage and began moving together in the most erotic dance Luke had ever witnessed.
Dear Lord, she knew how to move. As if her body was liquid, Ellie gyrated against her date. Hips swaying. Butt wiggling. Breasts…rubbing against the guy’s chest.
Luke’s mouth went dry, and against all his better sense he imagined Ellie moving like that against him. His body tightened with need, and at each wiggle of her hips against Enrique’s groin, Luke’s own groin clenched. When her date ran his hands up and down her back, her tailbone, her butt, it was Luke’s fingers that sizzled.
A temptress, that’s what she was. She moved with agility, confidence and a hell of a lot of sex appeal. Along with his unbearable desire came admiration. She was good at what she did. Born to be a dancer. Whether ballet, jazz or this intoxicating salsa tune, she belonged out on that dance floor.
As the sensual dance continued, an unwelcome pang of guilt gnawed at his gut. Ellie looked happy out there, and from what Josh had told him, she’d been miserable back in San Francisco. Absolutely miserable. Was it right to bring her back to a life of unhappiness? Could he really live with himself knowing he’d doomed her to that?
Taking a gulp of his beer, he debated getting out of here. Leaving, hopping on the next plane back to San Francisco and forgetting he’d ever bothered Ellie.
When she turned her head and met his gaze, he quickly changed his mind. Their eyes locked in a heated stare, and even if he’d tried, he wouldn’t have been able to look away. Her big blue eyes flashed with…with that? She didn’t look irritated to see him. She didn’t look angry, either.
She looked pleased.
Her gaze flickered from him to her date, then back at him again. A small smile tugged at her full lips, and she continued to eye him, looking thoughtful, mischievous. And then, never once breaking their gaze, she ran her hands down Enrique’s chest and proceeded to dance her way down his hips, until her face was inches from his crotch.
Luke shot to his feet.
Too far. Ellie knew she’d crossed the line the second Luke jumped from his chair and marched toward her and Miguel. Fire flashed in his gray eyes, filling the room—and her body—with a rush of heat.
She fought against the heavy thudding of her heart, gathering up confidence she didn’t have and wishing she’d never decided to take this course of action.
“I need to talk to you.” Luke’s voice was rough, tinged with danger. He didn’t once glance in the direction of Miguel. Didn’t ask permission, just grabbed her arm and began leading her across the dance floor.
Her pulse quickened at the feel of his warm hand against her bare arm, but the brief desire-filled reaction dissolved into anger as he dragged her through the bar.