Breaking with the FBI wasn't as simple as handing in his badge and figuring out a financial position. He finished his drink and then said, "It's dangerous for me to involve myself in your life."
A brush of her hands on his pumped up his adrenaline. "Who said involved? It was just a kiss."
"A moment ago you were reserved." There was no way for her to know. She didn't understand. He gazed into her light blue eyes as she sipped her wine and then took her hand. "Alice, don't be someone you're not, for me or for anyone. You are too good for me."
Her eyes watered as she said, "You are being dramatic."
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. "Don't brush off how we feel right now. We both know where this leads."
"Then don't turn this moment into something it doesn't have to be. Just relax."
Relaxing wasn't going to happen near her. Alice Collins was sexy, and he didn't think she saw that. Back when Vicki was alive he must have been truly self-delusional, or blind. She'd been in front of his face the whole time. One moment with her might be worth a lifetime of possibilities.
He pulled his hands back to his lap. Tonight, he'd respect her. His sister's memory should mean that Alice was off limits. The heat under his collar grew. Every inch of him craved her. He stood up and offered his hand. "Dance?"
She blinked in surprise, but then she smiled like he'd picked her off the bleachers for the school dance. He shook off the thought and helped her up—her hand stayed in his. "Okay. I want to be in your arms."
For the dance only. He kept his lips pressed together.
With his rapt attention on her, she fixed her hair behind her ears and let him lead. Her body had curves, and her hand fit in his perfectly. He'd claim the life he wanted and when he was settled and secured, he'd keep Alice for a lifetime.
They found their positions on the dance floor where salsa music wafted in the air. He wrapped his arms around her perfectly shaped body and closed his eyes to breathe in the hint of strawberries. He led her in the dance. "You are one of those women, aren't you?"
She stumbled and then let him hold her to lead, but this time with a frown. "What are you talking about, those women?"
He turned her, his fingers aching to bring her closer. The beat was hard, rhythmic. He finally said, "The ones men call ‘Sweetheart.' It's in your eyes."
The tempo rose and Alice shook her hips in time to the music. Her moves made his body feel weak, but hot. Her open gaze seemed inviting. "What did you say? What's in my eyes?"
This dance was torture. As her mouth moved, his lips ached to taste her one more time. He swallowed. "How sweet and kind you are and that you have a heart."
He spun her around and took that second to get himself under control. Goose bumps dotted his skin, and his flesh was hypersensitive. No words came out of his mouth as she twirled back into his arms. He had dated plenty of women—none of them had affected him like this. Alice was his home. The thought hit him hard. It held him in his place.
The need in his fingers to keep her locked in his arms grew. No more kissing her was allowed for him. As she moved, she came back and rubbed her chin. "I'm trying to figure you out. One minute you kiss me. The next minute you're stiff and not smiling. Does the FBI rip that out of its agents or something?" She tapped his chest.
This conversation was like a merry-go-round and made him dizzy. With the music, it was hard to follow a train of thought. If she was anyone else, he'd be different, but she shattered his reserve. It took a second to catch that she was referring to his heart. She brushed his face with her fingers as he said, "The FBI leaves me cold."
Her body pressed against him. "You're far from that."
"You don't know that." He'd be ruthless, but near Alice, he lost that part of himself.
Her hips swayed, brushing his groin. Every part of him was primitive and wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs to his room. Instead he said, "I don't want to talk about work."
"Then let's talk about us."
"Us?" Absolutely not. There was no us or we in this lifetime. His hands trailed up her perfect back, which only sent more heat throughout his body. "You are a more interesting topic. Funny too."
"What's funny?" Her face ticked like he said the wrong thing.
The music was in such a rush now that no matter how loud they spoke, it was difficult to hear.
He grimaced. "Nothing. We can't."
Her frown told him he disappointed her, though for the moment she said nothing.
The music picked up into a frenzy as he led her around in a circle. He pressed his lips together as she asked, "What's holding you back?"
The song ended with a high note. She was perfect, and his lips tingled to kiss her again. Instead he led her off the dance floor, as he'd not torture himself again. The date had to end soon. Night was coming in like a blanket that made him forget. His body couldn't handle being that close. She took his hand, and adrenaline surged through him. Brakes would help about now. "My family."
He led her to stand between a wall and the dance floor. Her face lost its brightness as she said, "Your sister liked me."
He liked her. He glanced at their table. The food wasn't nearly so tempting. Part of him hoped to get over his issues and just take her, but he leaned against the wall. "The House of Morgan is unforgettable."
"Perhaps it's your father that holds you still." She stayed in his arms as he massaged her shoulders. So close, he could kiss her again. He leaned in and her lips were inches from his, but then she turned her head. Her eyes misted, like she was upset at him. "Let's change topics. Why did you join the FBI?"
Clearly he was the one with the issue. Every pulse in his body demanded he take her and never let go. He stared into her blue eyes and saw a spark. It might be fear, but it might be desire. Perhaps she should fear him, but his pulse near her was off the chart. He shook his head and tried to get a grip. "To find out the depths my father would go. I know he had something to do with Vicki's death."
Her face flinched. "Would he kill his own daughter?"
"If I stood in the way of something, he'd discard me. I'd assume he'd do that to her too."
"Yet you joined the FBI to hunt down his friends and still he didn't cut you out. Despite how miserable I remember Vicki being with your dad, I have a hard time believing he'd have killed his only daughter."
She stroked his forearm, offering comfort. "Don't think about him."
Then she reached out and hugged him. Her body pressed against his, and his hands shook as he restrained himself from holding her too tight. "Deal."
Alice nodded, and pulled out of their hug. "Vicki was distant and unseen for months before she died. I thought we were going to college together, but she never showed up."
He tilted his head and took another long look at Alice's beauty. This was a conversation he could have. Her skin had a glow to it that made her stand out. It might be because she seemed to truly care. "She never confided in you why she disappeared?"