Filthy Rich by Dawn Ryder Page B

to perform a breathing routine she’d learned in marital arts. Her heart slowed, her respiration coming back into a normal rhythm.
    When she opened her eyes, the great expanse of natural wonder didn’t impress her. She was still fighting for control, fending off the attraction that Nartan unleashed in her. She ordered herself to ignore it, but her body was still trembling from his touch. Her blood was hot, her nipples hard; and every bit of self-discipline she’d learned from Master Lee was nowhere in sight.
    â€œTarak wasn’t pulling my leg when he said your ex was a prick.”
    Celeste jumped, a startled sound escaping her lips, and whipped around to discover Nartan three feet from her. Her eyes widened, shock filtering through the haze of arousal fogging her brain.
    â€œHe had no business telling you anything about me,” she said. Her temper was nowhere to be found, leaving her sounding like a lost little girl. Which sure as hell didn’t mix well with the way she was fighting the urge to look at his lips.
    Nartan raised an eyebrow. “So you’d prefer I just feel like a total dick when you take off in the middle of a dance, insinuating to everyone watching that I can’t be a gentleman at my best friend’s wedding?”
    Shame threatened to choke her as she realized how her exit must have looked. Heat teased her cheeks but she lifted her chin, realizing it was time to face off with him before she lost any more of her wits. “We already agreed—”
    â€œAgreed?” he cut in, stepping toward her. “No, honey, we didn’t agree on anything.”
    He was pressing her. She felt him as much as she heard or saw him. Every muscle she had was taunt or quivering. “I made my feelings clear.”
    â€œYou made it clear that you’re afraid to face that ghost. You were just as interested as I was last night.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “Are you going to double-dog dare me next?”
    His eyes glittered with hard enjoyment. “Maybe.”
    He closed the gap between them again, but she was too stubborn to heed the warning bell urging her to retreat.
    Like hell she’d back away from him. “We’re a little too old for schoolyard games.”
    â€œAgreed. I’m interested in playing adult games with you.” He loomed over her. “You’re attracted to me, but it scares you.”
    â€œI’m not afraid of you.”
    â€œYour actions tell another story,” he fired back, relentless.
    She drew herself up and planted herself firmly. “Not trusting myself isn’t the same as being afraid of—” She snapped her mouth shut when she realized how exposing her words were.
    â€œTrust takes time.” Nartan reached out and cupped her elbow. She would have wrenched away from him, but his hold was soft and nonthreatening. Undermining. Like it had been the night before. She had no defense against tenderness. Not even the desire to resist.
    And it sent a shiver down her back.
    â€œAnd courage.” His tone was deep and husky.
    The ripple of sensation stunned her. Somehow, she hadn’t realized how lonely she felt, how much she yearned for human contact. She hesitated, held spellbound for a moment, granting him enough time to smooth his hand around her elbow and along her lower arm before sliding his fingers along hers and releasing her. He tightened his fingers into a fist and forced it into his suit jacket pocket. He concealed his thoughts well, but she still saw the tiny signs of strain at the corners of his eyes.
    He wanted to pull her toward him.
    But he didn’t, and that left her open to a new sensation, one she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
    Trust.
    Just a hint of it really, but she rolled her lower lip and set her teeth into it as she contemplated the restraint he was employing.
    â€œI shouldn’t have stomped off the dance floor,” she offered softly.
    He growled softly.