A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)

She glanced at the clock on the wall, then walked to the stairs. Once she was on the main floor, she stepped into her brother’s offices and moved toward Dante’s desk. He was staring at his computer screen but glanced up as she approached.

“Hey,” she said. “I wanted to warn you that tonight there’s more clog dancing. No tap classes until tomorrow. Ballet the rest of the time. Ballet is quieter. Except for the music. But you seem to have this thing against the clog girls, so I’m letting you know in advance.”

Dante sat at his desk, his blue eyes fixed on her, the oddest expression on his face.

“What?” she demanded, raising her hands to her head to make sure her braids were tightly in place.

He swore under his breath. “Is it legal?”

“Clog dancing? The last time I checked.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “What you’re wearing.”

She glanced down at herself. She had on black tights and a leotard. It was exactly what she wore nearly every day of her life. Scuffed ballet shoes covered her feet. Later, she would put on toe shoes to demonstrate some steps, but she wasn’t going to walk around in them. She found that awkward and, okay, a little pretentious.

She pulled at the stretchy material. “It’s worn, I’ll admit, but I’m dressed.”

Dante glanced around, as if checking to see who was watching them. As far as Evie could tell, everyone else was busy with work.

“You’re practically naked.”

She laughed. “I’m fully covered.”

“Technically. But…” He waved his hand up and down in front of her body. “Shouldn’t you put on a coat?”

She didn’t understand. “Because why?”

“You’re distracting.”

“Really?”

“Look around. Do you see anyone else wearing an outfit like that?”

“It’s not office wear.”

He seemed a little glazed and frantic. For a second she allowed herself to believe he found her sexy. Wouldn’t that be nice?

“You’re killing me,” he muttered.

She smiled. “That’s so lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, the guy at the hardware store called me about the set.”

“What? Why would he call you?”

“Because Charlie told him to. She has this idea that you don’t know squat about construction.”

“I don’t, but it’s my responsibility anyway.” She was going to make sure her students weren’t disappointed.

“Yeah, well, now I’m going to help, too. I thought we could go look at the sets together, and I’ll put together a list of what needs doing.”

She took a step back. “No, thanks. I appreciate the offer, but no.”

“Why not?”

“Because, um, you’re busy.” Lame, but it was better than the truth. She wasn’t willing to risk getting sucked in. Dante was pretty tempting. Handsome, funny, interesting. Sexy. Hard to resist.

“Why not?” he repeated.

She sighed. “You’re my brother’s business partner. I’m not looking to get more involved with my family. We have a long, complicated history. I won’t bore you with it, but believe me when I say, stay far, far away.”

He studied her. “Interesting. A mystery. I love a good mystery.”

“Don’t be intrigued. I’m a seriously boring person. You’re sweet to offer, but no. I’ll do it myself.”

His phone rang. He swore quietly. “I have to take this call, but our conversation isn’t over.”

He couldn’t be more wrong, she thought, giving a cheerful wave and hurrying away. Dante was a complication she didn’t need and couldn’t afford. Him being nice would make staying away more difficult, but even more necessary.

* * *

THE OFFICE CLEARED OUT a little after five. Dante kept working. Right on time, the thudding of clog-clad feet pounded above his head. He turned off his computer and ducked out while he could. But an hour later he returned and made his way upstairs. Evie was turning out the lights in the studio, obviously done for the night.

She turned and looked at him, her expression slightly guarded. He took in her bulky sweatshirt and fitted jeans, and raised his eyebrows.

“You changed.”

She pointed at him. “You did, too.”

“I don’t think my suit would get the same reaction as your work clothes.”

“I don’t know,” she told him. “I do love a man in a tie.”

“Now you’re just messing with me.”

“You make it easy.”

Her eyes were big and green, with dark lashes. He would guess she wasn’t wearing much in the way of makeup, which was fine by him. He liked women in all shapes and sizes. From high-maintenance divas to the most casual of tree-huggers.

“I’m going to help you with the sets,” he said. “You can accept gracefully or you can fight me, but in the end, I’ll win. I always win.”

“Doing your civic duty?”

“Helping out a friend.”

He liked her. She was Rafe’s sister. As for the way she looked in dance clothes, that was his problem alone. He knew better than to go down dangerous paths.