she’d once been.
After a few more dances, things began to wind down. The speeches were given, the cake cut, the music became slower. She noticed some women sliding their high heels off to give their feet a rest. Keira didn’t need to, one of the perks of her ex-occupation.
She grinned to herself from the edge of the ballroom, where she stood in the shadows. Her three-inch heels were nothing compared to most of the shoes she’d danced in at the club. Plus they made her seem not quite so pitifully short.
“I have to admit, you look like someone very pleased with herself.”
The deep voice startled her and she glanced to her side.
Wow. Tall, dark and handsome had decided to join her in the shadows.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.” His smile was so charming she couldn’t help but smile back.
“I just didn’t think anyone was hiding here but me. At least on this side of the room.”
“Are you hiding?”
Keira shrugged a shoulder exposed by her strapless dress. “Only because I’m afraid Andrea’s going to throw the bouquet in a minute.”
He chuckled. “You gathering your strength to wipe out the competition?”
Keira raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? Look at them.” She waved her arm toward some of the single women at the tables in the middle of the room. “I don’t need to gather my strength to take them out.”
“I stand corrected.” He laughed softly again, the sound doing things to Keira’s insides she hadn’t felt in a long while.
“But no, I’m over here because I don’t want anyone to notice when I don’t join in the tradition of tackling poor, defenseless flowers.”
“I thought all single women wanted to catch the bouquet.”
She turned completely toward him so she could give him the full weight of her opinion of that asinine statement.
But instead just got caught up in the ridiculous blue of his eyes, coupled with his brown hair. She literally felt her breath catch at the spark between them.
So much for not being romantic.
He felt it, too. She could tell by the way he eased closer. “I stand corrected again. Not every woman wants to make a flying tackle for the bouquet. I’m Roman Weber. I work with Brandon and Andrea at Omega.”
“Nice to meet you, Roman Weber. I’m Keira Spencer, old friend of the bride.”
“I’ve seen you around.”
Yeah, she’d seen him, too, since she’d moved to Colorado Springs six months ago. But she’d never had a chance to talk to him before now. Or really, Keira hadn’t pushed it. Had deliberately not let herself be pulled in by the instant attraction between the two of them.
With him standing beside her, she couldn’t help but be pulled in by it now.
“Dance with me?” He tilted his head down near her ear and whispered the words softly. The music was slow. Sultry even. Definitely not helping her resist this attraction pooling in her.
“I’m trying to stay out of the lights on the dance floor, remember?” But she knew if he led her out there she would definitely not resist.
She felt his arm slide low around her waist. “Not out there,” he whispered. “Right here.”
He pulled her into him and began to gently sway with the music. His other hand found hers and brought it up against his chest, keeping their fingers entwined.
Even with her heels she barely came up to his chin. She knew this sort of closeness should make her feel uncomfortable, and waited for that tinge of panic to assail her.
It never came.
One song led into a second as they moved slowly together, in perfect rhythm.
“Why are you hiding in the shadows, Roman Weber?” Keira asked as the second slow song ended and the band took a break for the bouquet and garter toss.
“I’m dancing in the shadows with a gorgeous woman,” Roman replied.
“Not hiding from the garter?”
He smiled. And still hadn’t slipped his arm from her waist or released her hand from his chest.
“No. Although I will admit, shamefully, since I’m a grown man, that I’m trying to avoid my mother and her nagging agenda at events like this.”
Keira smiled. “Mom’s not a big fan of you working at Omega Sector?”
“Oh yes, believe me, she is not happy about my chosen profession.”
She couldn’t blame a mother for being concerned about her son’s well-being. Keira could feel the muscles of the chest beneath her fingers, the light balance he had on his feet. Roman was definitely an active agent. Probably regularly in the line of fire. A mother could be forgiven for nagging about that.
“I understand the hiding. Even if I wasn’t trying to avoid the bouquet, I generally avoid crowds like this.”
He eased back so they could see each other’s eyes. “Law enforcement agents?”
“No.” She shook her head, smiling. “The other ones. Rich and privileged, with an agenda of their own.”
Roman studied her for a long moment in a way she didn’t really understand.
“What?” she finally asked.
“Nothing.” His gaze turn into something softer, more inviting. “You’re trying to get away from these people. I’m trying to get away from these people. What do you say we just get out of here together, right now? I have a suite upstairs.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“It can just be for more dancing. I promise.” That smile again that took her breath away. “All I’m trying to do is save you from the plant-damaging violence of the bouquet toss. Although I agree, you could definitely take out most of the women here.”
Despite what some people might think of her because of her past profession, giving in to an instant attraction wasn’t Keira’s normal way of doing things. Letting a man get close to her was difficult. Hell, given her previous marriage, even being attracted to someone was a novelty.
But the attraction between her and Roman Weber was something fierce. She couldn’t deny it even if she wanted to.
And she didn’t want to.
For the first time in her life, Keira threw caution to the wind. “What if I’m interested in more than just dancing up in your suite?”
His grinned widened. “Then I would ask why the heck we’re still here talking about it.”
He let go of her waist and pulled her to the door.
They didn’t leave the suite for the next day and a half.
They hardly left the bed except to grab what they ordered from room service.
Keira couldn’t stop smiling. She came back out of the bathroom midday Monday after brushing her teeth and attempting to do something with her hair, hardly recognizing the woman she’d seen in the mirror.
Spending the weekend in bed with a man she hardly knew really wasn’t part of her MO. She may have been an exotic dancer, but that hadn’t meant she’d allowed men close to her. As a matter of fact, stripping had been the furthest thing from intimacy for her.
While onstage, she’d known exactly what moves to do to make the most money and gather the most attention. And even offstage she’d always