Rogue Beast (The Rourkes #12) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,24

her ear. “Harp, can I call you Harp? You look like you just watched someone else get your Oscar.”

“I do not,” she says hotly. “Besides, I’ve never been nominated for one.”

I straighten. “I give you the most constipated award.”

She giggles. “You’re terrible at flirting.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not even trying.”

She softens at the sweetheart, her hazel eyes locked on mine. Every nerve ending goes on alert, the chemistry arcing powerfully between us. Raw lust rushes through me.

“Perfect!” the photographer says, snapping picture after picture. After he’s satisfied with the results, he thanks us and takes off.

Another slow dance begins, so I pull her closer and continue dancing.

She sighs and then seems to remember herself and puts some space between us. “You’re such a good dancer I’m afraid I got a little too close.”

“No such thing.”

“Garrett,” she says softly, “you’re a nice guy, but this is a friends date.”

Nice guy. That’s female code for I’m not attracted to you. Which is a lie. The chemistry here is so obvious we attracted a photographer. I don’t buy that my connection to the throne is all that interesting to New York’s elite. We’re the wealthy royal family’s poor relations. Our business is doing well, but most of the profits are funneled into buying the next property. We’re still in the building-the-business stage. That guy wanted our picture because Harper and I have this palpable connection. Why is she trying to deny it?

“And why are we on a friends date instead of an actual date?” I ask.

She blinks a few times. “Why?”

“Yeah, why?”

She stares at my shoulder. “Because that photographer reminded me why I need to be careful. I just broke up with only the latest in a long line of terrible choices in men, and I know you didn’t have anything to do with that, but I have baggage, okay? I’m not ready to get involved with anyone right now.”

That’s honest, and I appreciate that. More importantly, it’s nothing personal against me.

“Fair enough,” I say.

Her lips part in surprise. “Really?”

I whisper in her ear, “Did you expect me to walk away because sex is off the table? I can go slow. I think you’re worth it.”

I lean back to read her expression.

Her eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “You’re not like the guys I usually meet.”

I grin. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all night. Besides your incredibly motivating speech. It’s because of you they raised two mil.”

“No,” she says, smiling.

“Yes. Carol even skipped her boring old speech knowing she had to seize the Harper Ellis moment.”

“Stop,” she says, ducking her head.

I tip her chin up. “You really can’t take a compliment.”

“I’m not used to them.”

“Then I’ll give you more until you build up a tolerance.”

“Sort of a desensitizing program?”

“Exactly, sweetheart.”

She beams up at me, leaning a little closer in our slow sway of a dance. “You really are a beast of a man.”

Flashes go off. I turn, surprised to see several photographers snapping pictures of us. She pulls me off the dance floor, stopping in a quiet corner, angled away from the photographers.

“What’s the deal with all the pictures?” I ask her. It’s a little strange that the reporters in here, who were supposed to be less about gossip and more about substance, keep taking our picture. How many society pages could there be?

“I don’t know. My publicist said she arranged a lot of press for the cause. It’s just starting to feel more personal. Probably because of the Colton thing. We’re a story. She usually keeps out the gossip types though. I’m getting a little creeped out.”

“You want to leave?”

“No, I’ll stick it out. We’ll just be careful not to do anything that draws attention.”

“Like ballroom dance?”

She laughs. “Yes.”

I grin. “So gazing adoringly into your eyes is out?”

She gives my shoulder a little shove. “You’re ridiculous.”

I waggle my brows at her. “Am I, or are you so turned on right now you’re ready to tackle me to the floor and rip my clothes off?”

She laughs, and then she can’t stop laughing, tears coming out of her eyes. Joe shoots me a curious look, standing nearby as usual. I shrug. I had no idea I was such a comedian. People are starting to stare.

I stare too, a little offended. “Are you done cracking up at the idea of me naked?”

She gets serious. “Sorry. It’s just that I have a vivid imagination, and I saw it all like an animated cartoon. Like me with big hearts in my eyes, leaping in the air and then