Life Is A Beach (Mills & Boon Silhouette): Life Is A Beach / A Real-thing Fling by Pamela Browning Page B

having a good time and forgetting that this is a business relationship.” She seemed troubled.
    “Are you having a good time, Karma?” he asked softly, letting the words sink in. Because I am, too. I’d have a better time if you’d dance with me.”
    After a moment’s hesitation during which Karma seemed to weigh the pros and cons, the pros must have won out. She got up and Slade followed her onto the crowded dance floor. No sooner did they get there than the song that was playing stopped and segued into a smooth ballad.
    He took her in his arms, liking the solid feel of her, liking the way she melted into him. She was lighter on her feet than he would have expected, and he led her to the center of the floor where lights from a revolving glass ball overhead played across her features.
    “So, Karma, tell me—do I move all right?” he asked after they’d been at it for a few minutes. He was teasing her to see what she’d say.
    He expected a saucy retort, maybe a challenge. But she surprised him. “Oh, yes,” she murmured.
    “So doyou. But in case I don’t express myself enough to bring my most repressed feelings out into the open, what should I do?”
    “Our previous discussions make me suspect that this is an insincere question.”
    “Insincere is as insincere does,” he said.
    “Meaning what?”
    “Meaning that I asked for advice, and if I take it, you’ll know that I’m far more interested than I’ve let on.”
    “This is a verbal sparring contest.”
    He tightened his arm around her waist. “At the moment, it’s more physical than verbal as far as I’m concerned.”
    “Yikes,” was Karma’s inelegant remark. “Double yikes.”
    “So?”
    “Well, if you really want to do something about movement and gain a little inner peace as well, you could try yoga, like I mentioned before.”
    “And where would I learn this yoga?”
    “We hold yoga classes on the roof at the Blue Moon on Tuesday nights. Eight o’clock sharp.” She spoke with a breathy little hitch in her voice that he found unbelievably sexy.
    He pulled her even closer, felt her breasts pushing against his chest. “And you will be there, I suppose.”
    “I suppose. I mean, definitely. Unless I have something else to do.”
    What would this woman do in her spare time? he wondered. Make tofu-cilantro goodies such as the ones she’d lost at the bottom of the bay along with her bicycle? Hang out with Goldy in the lobby of the Blue Moon? Go on a date?
    It occurred to him that Karma O’Connor might have a boyfriend. Or worse. She might be engaged. If she ran a dating service, she could have her pick of clients.
    “You’re not taken or anything, are you?” he demanded out of the clear blue, surprising himself as well as her.
    “Taken?” Shemoved away and blinked at him. He noticed that her eyelashes were curly and long.
    “As in going steady. Or engaged. Or something,” he said, stammering around and feeling stupid.
    “No.” She moved closer now, tightening her arm across his shoulders. This gave Slade an exultant feeling that he would have been hard put to describe. He knew she wasn’t his type. But he also knew that he might have a chance to get lucky for tonight. Or maybe the next few nights, if he played this right.
    Not that it was only sex he was interested in. He wanted to know what made Karma O’Connor tick. He wanted to know why she thought the way she did, why she danced with her eyes closed. He wanted to know why she was running a place called Rent-a-Yenta and what she’d done before that. He wanted to know—
    “You could come tomorrow night.”
    He had to think for a few seconds to put this statement in its proper context. “To yoga class, you mean.”
    “Yes, it would be good for you.”
    “If I promise to be there, will you leave here with me now?” he said, sounding more urgent than he intended.
    “And where would we go?” she asked. In another woman, this might have sounded coy, but he didn’t think