Instructing an Heiress (10 page)

"Are you saying CK's sudden interest in, well, the distractions of the opposite gender, could slow the merger proceedings?"
 

"Wouldn't be at all surprised. Women have needs, son. Can't deny them forever."
 

"The timing couldn't be worse."

"Maybe you should go over to the club and check things out. For the good of both companies."

"We
are
at a crucial juncture."

"Get her mind off Anderson. It's the only way."

"CK's complete focus is essential," his son agreed. His eyes lit with a fire Wayland thought he'd never live to see. "You're right. I'll do it."

"Halleluiah." Wayland slapped his son on the shoulder. "I won't wait up."
 

*
 
*
 
*

The Crazy Tom's DJ switched music and filled the club with a nostalgic love song that grated on Ryan's nerves. With his thumb, he caught a drop of condensation as it slid down his nearly full glass of ale. Dissatisfaction chewed steadily on his gut.
 

She'd worn a dress that made her look amazing, won over his friends, and made a discouraging amount of progress with her socializing skills. If that wasn't bad enough, even his fallback had failed. She looked so classy and sexy all rolled into one that not a guy in the place had worked up the nerve to ask her to dance. All the awkward touching and small talk that went into dancing with strangers had been his last hope.

"So, my sergeant said to me, 'You got the promotion when you sat down at the computer instead of the adding machine,'" Jackson concluded.

Everyone laughed. Ryan frowned.
 

"Heads up, marketing team," Todd said in a low voice. "Potential suitor at four o'clock."

Peering at his watch, Ajax gave it a sharp tap with his finger. "Sure does fly, man," he said as he reset it.

Brad shook his head. "Jeez, Ajax, good thing you don't need to work."

Ryan and every guy around them watched as a young man headed toward CK. The kid was barely twenty-one if he was a day; medium height, beefy build, slightly drunk. If she accepted him, it would break the ice and she'd be swamped with requests. Maybe the evening could be salvaged.

The kid stopped next to CK and went for the confident grin approach. His gaze swept around the table and when it landed on Ryan, his smile faltered. "Um. Would the lady like to dance?"

"Are you asking him, or me?" CK said in that snooty way she had when she was embarrassed or scared.
 

"She'd love to." Ryan grasped her elbow and tried to urge her to her feet.
 

The guy's face brightened. "Cool."

CK shook off his grip and settled back in the chair. "She would not. Thank you, anyway."

Ryan reached for her, again. "Sure, she would."

She slapped his hand away. "The lady decides who she dances with and when."
 

Sweat trickled down the kid's temple and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Sensing disaster, Ryan gave him an apologetic smile. "She'll dance wi—"
 

But he'd already fled, darting off like a scared rabbit back to his table. Ryan's friends burst out laughing and suddenly every guy in the place was turning around and pretending CK didn't exist.

He frowned at her in disapproval. "What was that? You scared the hell out of him."

She gave him a level look, her violet eyes cold. "I believe that honor fell to you."

"No, it was you all the way, babe."

"What makes you think I would ever consider someone who asks permission from you to dance with me."

"The guy didn't mean anything by it."

"It's an unspoken manly code," Brad said, still chuckling.

"Is you is, or is you ain't?" Todd quoted.
 

"Taken, that is," Jackson finished, his smile a blinding white flash against his dark skin.
 

They all stared pointedly at Ryan.
 

"Don't bring me into this," he protested.

"You stared at the boy like you were ready to choose seconds," Jackson commented.

"Are you implying he thought Anderson was my...boyfriend?" she stuttered, choking on the word. "Ridiculous."
 

He bristled. "What's so unbelievable about me being your boyfriend?"

"The way you go from woman to woman?"

"She's got you there, bro," Brad said.

"I could settle down."

Something like regret flickered through her eyes so fast, he wasn't sure he'd seen it. "You'd lose that bet," she said, smugly.
 

Ryan leaned in. "Would I?" He focused his gaze on the rich cushion of her mouth.
 

She licked her lips, nervously, and hunger for her shot to life in his blood, blazing a trail straight to the goods. Startled, he pulled back. What was wrong with him, lately?

Shifting away from her, he eyed his beer and then pushed the glass toward the center of the table. CK's stubbornness was getting on his nerves, he concluded.

Todd got up and came around to their side of the table. "Let's dance," he said to her.
 

Ryan scowled at him, an absurd feeling of annoyance settling across his back. "She doesn't know how."

"I don't mind." Todd held out his hand.

"She's my responsibility." Ryan got to his feet. "I'll take her."

"No, thanks," CK said, crossly. Rising gracefully, she shouldered him out of the way and took Todd's offered hand. The sight of her nearly bare back sent another jolt through Ryan and he fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her away from Todd. A moment later, they'd disappeared toward the dance floor.

Irritation pooled in his gut, churning and mixing into frustration. None of this made sense. He should be grateful to Todd, not jealous. His friend had just saved the evening from disaster. Once she was out there, interest would start up again, and his plan would be back on track. He should be happy.

Ryan ground his teeth together and dragged his beer angrily toward him.

"Man, you got it bad," Jackson said.

"No kidding. This whole thing is getting to be a real pain in my ass."

His friend arched a brow. "Or, someplace anyway."

*
 
*
 
*

CK tried taking them into a turn and Todd guided her back into step just before she collided with another couple. His warm chuckle was contagious and she found herself laughing with him at her own lack of ability.

This was a night of firsts, that was for sure, and she found she was enjoying herself. Another first.

"Try and follow me," he said, grinning down at her. "Just sway to the music."

She'd gone to one dance when she was growing up, right after her best friend, Suzanne, had moved to California. She'd spent the evening sitting alone on the bleachers feeling miserable, lonely and mortified. She'd never made the attempt, again.

As the house music vibrated around them, CK regretted her blanket decision. With someone like Todd, dancing was a blast. How much more exciting would it be in Ryan's arms?

Her heart stuttered and CK mentally chastised herself for the foolish thought. She was beginning to think she didn't have the sense God gave a rock. She knew better than to let those kinds of feelings get a foothold. Ryan had always been honest about their relationship and she had to respect that. If she wanted more, then she needed to look elsewhere.

Todd was a much more pleasant companion, anyway, she told herself firmly. Ryan had been a high-handed, obnoxious jerk all evening and she was an idiot to want to share any of this with him.
 

She couldn't help but suspect he was still hoping to intimidate her so she'd give up on her goal. The dress he'd sent certainly supported that theory. Inviting his friends still confused her, though. From one angle, the move had been a marketing stroke of genius. From another, had he hoped they'd frighten her off?
 

She had to admit that they had at first, but then they'd changed and turned out to be an amazing amount of fun. Because of them, she felt more comfortable interacting socially than she ever thought possible and she was even learning to dance! She'd made real progress, tonight. In her opinion, the evening was a complete success.

Todd's hand lightly touched her waist and he guided her toward the center of the dance floor where the crowd had thinned. CK did her best to follow him without stepping on his toes.
 

"Don't look at your feet," he advised, gently. "Keep your head up."

She lifted her chin and gazed out over the club. A fleeting movement caught her by attention and she stumbled. Had she just seen Steve Wayland coming through the door?

"You okay?" Todd asked.

"Sorry. Lost my balance." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and tried to ignore the cold chill skating down her back.

She must have imagined it. Steve would never come to a place like this. If he did, and saw her partying and flaunting herself in a dress like this—nothing short of a disaster. Methodical and conservative, that's what he was, and everything about this situation would horrify him.
 

Unable to shake the feeling she was about to be outed, CK slowed to an awkward stop, dragging Todd with her. "I have to go," she said, her voice sounding breathy and panicked even to her.

Concern touched his face. "Getting tired?"

"Please tell everyone I enjoyed meeting them, and—"
 

"Hello, CK," a cultured voice said behind her.

Her stomach tightened. Slowly she turned around. "Steve?"

Todd kept his hand protectively on her waist and studied the taller man curiously.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a flush sweeping across her cheeks. How was she going to get herself out of this?

"Stopping what could be a disaster for us all." His gaze flickered over her and his mouth drew down.

"I know I'm not a very good dancer, but—"

Steve's gaze bore into Todd. "Who is this man?"

"A new friend of mine. Todd meet—"

"Well, I'm an old friend," Steve cut in, "and these are desperate times."
 
He took her hand in a firm grip.

Amazement stunned her for a moment, long enough for Steve to haul her away from Todd and pull her up next to him. Todd's expression turned thunderous, alarming her further. The last thing she needed was a fight in the middle of the club.

"It's fine, really, Todd. We work together. Steve, if you want to dance, maybe the next song we can—oof!"
 

With a quick pull, Steve locked her against the front of his body and pressed his hand against her back. His frame was lean and strong, lithe feeling, like a dancer and amazement swept over her. He didn't make her go all hot and tingly, but he wasn't the pencil-pushing wimp she'd assumed, either.

"Excuse us," he said to Todd. In a quick series of graceful steps, he swept her along to the other side of the dance floor, leaving a bemused Todd staring after them.
 

"Impossible, hard headed, irritating, stubborn—" Indignation buzzed through Ryan like a snarled up clump of chain saws.
 

Brad held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, man, we get it. You hate her guts. Now, shut the hell up."

"I never said I hated her."

Ajax nodded wisely. "He's gettin' a thing for her."

"And whining about it," Brad groused.
   

Pure, unadulterated fury boiled up into Ryan's chest and bubbled into his brain. Ajax, Brad, and Jackson drained their mugs, oblivious to his wrath. "I am not getting 'a thing' for her!"

"How do we make it stop?" Jackson asked, morosely.

Ryan poked a finger toward him. "Getting worked up, maybe. A little frustrated. But that is not 'a thing.'"
 

"Let's beat the shit out of him," Brad said to Jackson.

"I'm in."

"'A Thing' means falling in love. Only fools do love. It's a death sentence to freedom."

Farley and another woman materialized out of the crowd and sauntered toward them.
 

"Nobody really falls in love, anyway," Ryan insisted.

Brad gave him a warning look, and then locked his eyes on the approaching women. "Shut. Up."

"It's just another excuse for sex."

"Now, Ryan."

The women stopped at their table. Farley's friend studied them curiously while Farley gave Ryan a bright smile.

"How you holding up, Casanova?"

"Couldn't be better."

The humor sparkling in her eyes added to his annoyance. "If you say so."
 

She turned toward his friends. Brad's predatory vigilance had locked onto the other woman while Jackson gave Farley a welcoming smile.
 

"Where'd you hide CK?" she asked, giving Jackson an equally interested once-over.
 

"Dancing," Ryan snarled.

Her attention shifted back to him. "Really? Now that
is
an accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself." Turning away she extended her hand to Jackson. "We never had a chance to be introduced. I'm Farley, the underpaid, overworked executive assistant to CK and Mr. Cranky Pants over here. This is Sharon."

Jackson grinned and listed off the men's names. "We're the abused, underfed friends of the same party."

"Then we all have sainthood in common." Farley slid into Todd's empty chair and motioned Sharon over to CK's.
 

Sharon gave Ryan a sly look and then turned her full focus on Brad which suited Ryan fine. He had other things on his mind at the moment.
 

Like when had CK started getting under his skin? What if she'd always been there and he just hadn't realized it?

Their freshman year he'd looked out for her, protected her, enjoyed her company. He'd stayed in touch and made sure they got together now and then after her grandfather shoved her into that private school. It was never a burden to be around CK. She was the only woman he'd known like that—the only woman he'd ever felt so comfortable with.