restrain himself for at least an hour—until the band finally decreased the tempo and played a slow dance. He pulled her into his arms.
She hesitated; then, her arms lifted around his neckand she moved closer, her breasts pressing against his chest.
Missing a step, he steered her into another couple. He recovered quickly, however, and tightened his arms around her. His hands slid down over her hips. She made no objection, just squirmed closer.
He groaned. He was in heaven. And hell. He wanted to get the hell out of there, take her back to her apartment and—
“Garek,” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I know why you started the art foundation.”
He stiffened slightly. “You do?”
“Yes. I know you’re doing it for your sister.” She leaned back to smile at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I think it was a very kind and generous thing to do.”
Garek stared into her shining eyes. “I’m a businessman,” he said. “I’m never kind or generous.”
Still smiling, she shook her head and rested her cheek against his shoulder. He looked down at her soft hair, a whirl of thoughts in his head. She didn’t believe him, obviously. What would she say, he wondered, if he told her that he had started the foundation only to annoy his sister, not to please her? What would she say if he told her he didn’t care at all about pleasing his sister; but that the idea of pleasing her was becoming more and more appealing?
Involuntarily, he tightened his arms around her. He’d drunk too much wine. That was why he was having these puerile thoughts…
A sudden, bright flash nearly blinded him. Blinking as his vision slowly cleared, Garek saw a man with a camera hurrying toward the door.
Annoyance raced through him, but then he sighed. Actually, he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.
“Hope you don’t mind having your picture in the paper,” he said lightly, glancing down at her.
Shock and dismay fluttered across her face. “Aren’t you going to try to stop him?”
“I can if you want me to.”
She nodded mutely.
He caught the man just as he was climbing into a car. After a brief scuffle, Garek managed to get the camera. As he stripped out the film, the photographer said, “Aw, give a guy a break. My editor said she’d give me a bonus if I got this picture.”
“Get the hell out of here,” Garek snapped. “Before I decide to take you apart, as well.”
The reporter gave Garek an appraising glance, then got in his car, apparently deciding retreat was in order. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he yelled out the window before driving off.
Garek made his way back into the restaurant.
“Did you catch him?” Ellie asked anxiously when he was close enough to hear.
“All taken care of.” He looked at her pale face and put his arm around her. “C’mon. Let me take you home.”
Driving down the dark, icy streets, they didn’t talk much. Garek thought about the incident in the club and Ellie’s reaction. She should have been delighted about that picture. She could have parlayed it into publicity for the gallery and thus for herself. What kind of sane person turned down such a golden opportunity?
He stopped the car in front of her apartment building and looked at her.
“You didn’t introduce me to any clients tonight,” she said.
“No,” he said.
There was a slight pause.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” she asked.
The streetlight haloed her face, emphasizing her wide, clear eyes and sweetly smiling lips. Maybe she was as honest and genuine as she appeared. The only problem was—he didn’t want her to be. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t need to complicate this situation any more. If he had any sense at all, he would let her go up to her apartment alone…
He looked at her, all softeyed and dewylipped.
That mouth.
“I’d love to come in,” he said.
Chapter Seven
As they stepped into the apartment, Ellie pulled off her glove and reached out to turn on the light. Before she could do so, however, Garek’s hand closed over hers. He’d taken off his gloves, too, and his fingers were warm. He shut the door, cutting off the glow from the porch light and casting the apartment into complete darkness. Ellie stood perfectly still, the blackness pressing against her, the scent of damp wool, icy wind and male musk filling her nostrils. Outside the apartment, the savage sleet and wind howled; inside, all was quiet—except for the wild beating of her heart.