âThanks for getting the valet to let my father know not to wait for me.â
His mouth pulled tight for a moment but all he said was, âYouâre welcome.â
âAnd thanks for not giving me too hard a time when I insisted the valet tell him that I wasnât feeling well.â
âAs opposed to youâd rather walk barefoot on glass than get in the car with him?â
âYes,â she said. âI know you donât understandââ
âYouâre right. I donât get it. Youâre bright and beautiful and witty. I donât understand why you let him get away with treating you like a ditz.â
âHeâs entitled to his opinion about what I do.â
âThat doesnât give him the right to be vicious.â
She took another sip of brandy and felt it warm her inside. The look Mitch was giving her heated her, too, in an entirely different way.
âHow is what my father did tonight different from what you do when you have a strong conviction about someone or something? Iâve seen you in action and there was no holding back.â
âYouâre not doing something that gets someone hurt,â he defended. âIf people would just stop and thinkââ
âIn your opinion. Itâs the facts as you see them and when you unload that opinion, peopleâs feelings get hurt.â
He ran his fingers through his hair, then drained his glass and set it on the coffee table sheâd painted in a deep, cocoa-brown. âTrust me, my behavior is nothing like your father. Heâs an ass.â
âI canât argue with that. And yet heâs on a mission to raise money for a cancer treatment center to honor the memory of the woman he loved. So heâs an ass with shades of gray.â
âThereâs got to be something in it for him,â Mitch said.
âTonightâs event was a lot of work. I hope he does get something out of it.â
âYou were having a good time until he showed up.â
She nodded. âYeah.â
He moved in front of her, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. âIf I remember right, youâd just said that I was a guy who saves lives. And that makes me aââ
âWhat?â she asked.
âThatâs what Iâd like to know. You didnât get a chance to finish the thought.â
Hero was what sheâd meant to say. And tonight heâd shown her he was one of the good guys outside of work, too. She finished the brandy in her glass and set it beside his. The warmth lingered inside her along with the sadness.
âThatâs not all I didnât finish.â Her eyes filled again as she remembered how happy sheâd been when Mitch held her in his arms and guided her around the dance floor. He was looking puzzled, waiting for her to explain. And all she could say was, âWe left our dessertââ
Her voice caught and she turned away. âPlease donât think Iâm ungrateful, but Iâd really like to be by myself now.â
âDonât, Samââ He moved behind her, curving his fingers around her arms. âDonât cry. He isnât worth it.â
When he turned her toward him, a single tear slid down her cheek. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed the moisture away with his thumb as his gaze skipped over her face. Staring at her, he shook his head as he let out a sound that was part exasperation, part groan. Then he lowered his mouth to hers.
The touch was soft, tentative, testing until her sigh of surrender. Then the contact turned into an explosion of heat and need. His arms came around her, crushing her to him and sheâd never felt safer or more secure. Sheâd never needed like she did now. No questions. No overthinking. Sheâd never lost control this way, not even with the man sheâd almost married. This was simple, basic lustâeasy to understand and explain. And best of all when
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