His chest tight, Garrett fought for breath and told himself to let her go. To step back before he did something that neither of them would be happy about.
But Kyra moved first.
“Thanks,” she said, sliding her hand from his and stepping out of his embrace. “For the dance, I mean,” she added quickly.
His hands felt empty, and he rubbed the tips of his fingers together as if trying to find the warmth that had slipped away so suddenly.
“Right.” Nodding, he stepped off the dance floor and waited for her to follow. Once clear of the dozens of couples dancing the Cotton-eyed Joe, Garret scrubbed one hand across his face and tried to find a way out of this now uncomfortable situation.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Dancing with Kyra Fortune?
Letting himself imagine doing a hell of a lot more with her?
Where was this coming from? He’d never known a woman who irritated him more than Kyra. She was opinionated, pushy, arrogant and an all-around thorn in his side.
So why did he suddenly want to grab her and kiss her blind?
“Look,” she said, pulling Garrett from the wild thoughts racing through his mind, “I’m going to go back and join my friend—”
“Yeah,” he said, grabbing at the excuse she’d offered. “And I’ve got to go—”
“—so how about we just pretend this never happened?”
“Huh?” Surprised, he stared at her. Her gaze flicked to each side of her, as if making sure no one was listening. When she looked back at him, her eyes were clear and cool, with no hint of the spark he’d seen earlier.
She blew out a breath. “It was a nice dance, but seriously, it was just a fluke, right? I mean, I was here, you were here….”
He nodded. “Coincidence.”
“Exactly.” She beamed at him as if he were an especially slow student who’d finally caught on to the day’s lesson. “So all I’m saying is that there’s no point in making a big deal out of this.”
Made perfect sense, he told himself. It was the out he should have been looking for. So why, he wondered, was he feeling the first stirrings of anger inside him? He was already regretting dancing with her. Why in the hell should he be pissed because she was asking him to forget about the whole thing? That ripple of anger spread and bubbled throughout his body, and he almost welcomed it. Heaven knew it was a far more familiar feeling around Kyra than anything else he’d been experiencing that night. “So we just ignore it.”
“How hard can it be?”
“Getting easier every second.”
She frowned. “No reason to get cranky. I’m doing this for both of us.”
He folded both arms across his chest and braced his feet far apart in an unconscious fighting stance. “Thanks so much.”
“You know,” she said, giving in to a bit of anger herself, “I think I’m being reasonable about all of this. I’m just saying what you’re thinking.”
“Wow. A mind reader, too. I had no idea you were a part-time mystic.”
Her jaw worked as if she were biting her tongue. Hard. She leaned in toward him, captured his gaze with hers. “I don’t know why you get to act all huffy. This is all your fault.”
“What?”
“Hey, I didn’t ask you to dance.”
Good point. She hadn’t even known he was in the building. If he’d just slipped out the front door instead of following her to the dance floor, none of this would be happening. Disgusted with himself, he felt his battle stance dissolve, and he shoved both hands into his jeans pockets. “If I could kick my own ass right now, believe me, I’d do it.”
Her lips twitched and he found himself staring at her mouth and wondering how it would taste.
Damn it.
“So you agree?” she asked.
Though it cost him dearly to agree with Kyra Fortune about anything, he had to admit she had the right idea here. To just forget about this little blip in their relationship. To put them both back on an even footing. Even if that meant making them armed adversaries again. They were much safer that way.
“Yes.” He gritted his teeth, determined now to just get away from her as fast as he could.
“Good.” She nodded abruptly, but didn’t move to leave.
“Something else?” he asked, pitching his voice to be heard above the music.
She looked as though she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. “No. I mean… No.”
“Okay.” He glanced at his watch, more for effect than anything else. “I’ve got an appointment so—”
“Oh.” A flash of something that might have been disappointment streaked across her features and was gone again in an instant. Then she lifted her chin, looked him in the eye and said, “All right. Then, goodbye.”
“Yeah.” Why wasn’t he moving?
“See you at work.”
“Right.” He still didn’t budge. For God’s sake, he told himself, move.
Before he could, though, she turned and walked away, weaving through the crowd with a lazy grace that held Garrett captivated. Even after the mob of people swallowed her, he stared after her, like some lovesick schoolboy hoping for another smile from the head cheerleader.
He shook his head as if trying to shake Kyra out of his mind. But as he turned and stalked toward the front door, storming through the crowd like a man possessed, he already knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
He’d held her now.
He knew what she felt like in his arms.
And he wondered why in the hell the first woman to stir his senses in years had to be the one woman who made a habit out of making his life miserable.
It appeared that Fate really did have a sense of humor.
A twisted one.
“What the heck was that about?” Isa demanded as soon as Kyra made it back to their table.
She dropped into a chair, slapped one hand to her spinning stomach and reached for her margarita before she tried to answer her best friend. While the icy slush slid down her throat, Kyra tried to get a grip on the different feelings racing through her.
But she just couldn’t do it.
Finally, she lifted her gaze to her friend’s. “I have absolutely no idea.”
Isa shook her head. “Not buying it, girlfriend,” she said flatly. “There is something going on between you two.”
“He’s my boss.” Oh God, she’d danced with her boss. She’d gotten all hot and squishy while pressed up against Garrett Wolff. Kyra propped her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. “This is so not good.”
Isabella laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Yes it is. God, Kyra, you’ve been so tightly wrapped the last few years, you might as well have been vacuum packed. It’s more than time that you cut loose a little.”
Kyra lifted her head and glared at her friend. “Not with him.”
“That wasn’t how it looked to me.”
“Don’t you get it, Isa? The man holds my career in his tight fist. One word from him and I’m finished.”
“Looked to me like he was thinking more about starting than finishing,” Isa said.
“Yeah, but starting what? An affair?”