For Seven Nights Only (Chase Brothers) by Sarah Ballance Page B

her. Three whole songs passed, and she never even looked his way. Then her dance partner pointed toward the bar, and as she looked up, her gaze tripped over Sawyer’s.
    Though every predatory, possessive jackass cell in his body demanded otherwise, he didn’t flinch.
    She hesitated, but only until the guy tugged on her hand. At first, Sawyer thought he was taking her to the bar, but the guy nodded to someone and led her toward the back. Sawyer momentarily lost sight of them. Then he saw Kelsie ducking into a doorway. Alone.
    The ladies’ room.
    Sawyer took a deep breath, too goddamned aware of how he’d felt when he thought she was about to get screwed sideways in the supply room. He stood there, his limbs threaded with tension, ready to wipe some guy off the planet, and all because he’d shown Kelsie the way to the restroom.
    He needed a fucking grip.
    Kelsie emerged a moment later, saw him, and froze.
    Yeah, like that would last. The last guy hadn’t dragged her to the back room, but that didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t. This time he didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t care how he looked. He just closed the distance between them and took her hand.
    “Come with me,” he said. “Now.”

Chapter Five
    Outside, a light rain had begun to fall. After the heat of the club, the cool air stole Kelsie’s breath, but not nearly as effectively as Sawyer did. She’d remained largely indifferent to the guys with whom she’d danced. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had a great time—she had—but not one of them compared to Sawyer. All the brazen flirting had nothing on Sawyer’s subtle seduction, the stroke of his palms and curling of his fingers dragging her to the edge of insanity. Maybe that saying about wanting what you couldn’t have was true.
    But she could have Sawyer. At least for one night. She just didn’t want to be another proverbial notch on his bedpost—or the humiliation of being dumped and awkwardly bumping into him in the building halls, which would come afterwards. He could stand there all night making her tremble under that fierce, possessive gaze, and that wouldn’t change. And however sexy that brooding, pissed-off stance of his was, she wouldn’t let it kill her mood. He was into the chase—he wasn’t at all into her.
    “I thought you could use some air,” he said. The words were terse. Gritty.
    “There’s air inside,” she said. The rain had her glasses sliding down her nose. She pushed them back, frustrated.
    “And men?”
    The loaded, pointed question irritated her. “Isn’t that the point of what we’re doing here?”
    “Yeah,” he said. Bitterly.
    His irritation confused her. “Was I doing something wrong?”
    “You really don’t know, do you?”
    “What?”
    “How beautiful you are. Every man in there wanted you.”
    Oh . Another line. But was he… jealous ? “And for that you need air?”
    He didn’t say anything. Just gave her that hard stare. Then he said, “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”
    She crossed her arms. Raindrops fell and staggered lazily to the valley that formed between her breasts. “So in other words, you’re worried someone will treat me, I don’t know, the way you would? Given half the chance, I mean.”
    “Believe me,” he said darkly, “I got the message about that yesterday.”
    The tinge of hurt in his voice caught her off guard. “I should thank you—”
    “You’re so goddamned beautiful,” he said. He stood there in the spitting mist, like he didn’t notice the rain, staring at her like she represented some mystery he didn’t understand. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    And then she realized something. “That’s not one of your lines, is it? You really believe I’m beautiful?”
    She waited for a smile. A laugh. Anything to break the moment into manageable pieces, but instead it loomed, scary big. And she wasn’t sure why. Not until she realized he was going to kiss her.
    And that she wanted him