Fortune's Valentine Bride Part 5

And then, strictly for his benefit, she began counting off the steps between repet.i.tive movements.

At first, he was concentrating so hard, listening to her counting and trying to follow each of her movements, that he didn't realize just how close her body was to his.

And then it dawned on him that he could actually feel every movement she made. The motions echoed against his body, urging him to mimic what was happening. And then the warmth began to sink in. Really sink in.

He felt the warmth of her body against his-or was that his against hers? He wasn't sure who was causing what. All he knew was that the end result was he could feel the heat, both from without and from within.

He caught himself looking at her. Really looking at her. And then he stumbled, stepping on her foot and the moment, he knew, was broken. As perhaps, quite possibly, was her foot.

"Sorry," he apologized as she stopped dancing for a second and paused to try to feel her toes. "I tried to warn you," he said defensively, looking very chagrined beneath the bravado. "I told you I wasn't any good at this."

"You can't expect to be perfect the first time out," she told him. She took a deep breath, willing the radiating pain in her foot to scale back so that she could continue. The last thing she wanted to do was hobble in front of him. That would definitely sideline him for the duration and that was not the plan. "Actually," she went on warmly, "you're doing a lot better than I thought you would at this point."

"Really?" he asked incredulously. It was clear from his tone that he thought he was doing rather poorly.

She nodded. He looked like a kid who'd just built his first soapbox racer, she thought. A huge wave of affection washed over her as she regarded Blake.

"Really," she told him. She could feel him slowing down, could see by the look in his eye what he was about to do-or not do-next. "Now, don't stop dancing," she urged with feeling. "That's the secret, no matter what happens on the floor-unless the iceberg hits, just keep on dancing until the song's over."

"Iceberg?" he questioned. And then, belatedly, he recognized the reference. "Oh. Right."

Her eyes were smiling at him as she said, "Right."

Maybe it was the music, or her encouragement. Or the fact that he felt as if he was finally getting the hang of this dancing thing, but Blake could feel a level of enthusiasm building within him. Enthusiasm and something more. Something...stirring for lack of a better word.

He supposed that it was just the simple fact that he was moving around an imaginary dance floor with a soft and supple body less than a half breath away from his. If he wasn't careful, things might begin happening that he didn't want happening. After all, he wasn't exactly made of stone and as for Katie, well, he'd be the first to admit-although not to her or to Wendy-that she was d.a.m.n attractive. If he wasn't so consumed with winning back Brittany...

But he was consumed, he reminded himself. And Katie was just here to help him with that campaign. She'd probably be upset if she knew what he was thinking right now, he told himself.

With more effort than he thought it would take, Blake bank down thinking altogether and just focused on dancing, nothing more.

By the end of their first full "work" day, Katie felt rather triumphant. During the course of that time, she had taught Blake the fundamentals of several dances.

For the last one, when he looked at her mystified after she'd verbally run through the steps his feet were supposed to be taking, she'd placed his hands on her hips and then deliberately exaggerated their movement in time to the music. His eyes widened and as he continued looking at her, she could feel her own heart melting. Was he surprised that she'd become so brazen, or was there something else going through his mind? For the life of her, she couldn't tell.

Initially, her objective for doing what she just had was to help Blake absorb the rhythm so that he could begin to at least try to master this dance of lovers. However, she had a nervous feeling that she was the one getting trapped within her own web.

She just wasn't good at this, wasn't good at pretending she was some sort of a seductress. She was just a woman in love with a man who had held her heart captive ever since they'd been kids.

Blake knew Katie was just trying to help, but there was definitely something happening here besides his attempt to learn the steps of a dance that really had no place in his life. With his hands on her hips like this, he could feel their seductive sway and it was telegraphing itself throughout his entire body.

For just a split second, thoughts of sweeping Brittany off her feet slipped far into the background-so far that they were all but invisible. In the foreground was this new, troubling reaction he was having to his sister's best friend, to his marketing a.s.sistant-to a woman he had known almost as long as he had known himself.

This wasn't right. And yet, it was oddly tantalizing. He knew he should move his hands, mumble something about "getting it," and return to safer territory. But he let them keep dancing and let himself-just for this moment-continue the unexpected journey he suddenly found himself on.

How could he not hear her heart beating? Katie wondered. It was almost deafening. Feeling his palms spread out over her hips as she continued to move them in what could only be blatantly described as an open invitation was having one h.e.l.l of a profound effect on her. She could feel every inch of her body reacting. Despite the throbbing music, time had suddenly and literally stood still for her.

Stood still while she found herself about an inch away from him. An inch away from his warm breath swirling along her throat and her face. An inch away from his mouth as he inclined his head ever so closer to her. Whether he was going to say something or had no idea that he'd reduced the s.p.a.ce between them to nothingness, she wasn't sure, but she knew that being so close to him like this and not doing anything about it was become harder and harder for her.

Her heart was hammering so hard she was having trouble catching her breath. All she wanted to do was kiss him. Just touch her lips to his and taste them.

Just once.

But she knew she couldn't. She couldn't make the first move and if he chose not to make it, then there was no way she was going to allow herself to become embarra.s.sed by taking the lead when he clearly wouldn't want her to.

d.a.m.n it, why aren't you kissing me? Can't you feel this? Can't you feel the electricity?

She struggled to regain control over herself. You can do this, Katie. If you pa.s.s out at his feet, you're going to have to hand in your resignation, you know that. So get a grip!

As Katie fought to center herself, she realized that she was also gripping Blake's shoulders for all she was worth. When he drew back his head to look into her eyes, she could see that he knew something was wrong.

Or, at the very least, that something was different.

Chapter Six.

He forgot to measure.

The old adage, "Measure twice, cut once," the mantra of tailors, construction workers and exceedingly careful people who strove to avoid errors, had also been Blake's rule of thumb to a great extent. Because he worked for his father and knew that any mistakes he might inadvertently make would be greatly magnified in John Michael's eyes, Blake wound up applying the rule to every facet of his life. Which only seemed appropriate since most of his life of late was spent in the office.

But this time around he forgot to measure. He forgot to allow caution to guide him and had, for all intents and purposes, thrown that very caution to the proverbial winds and had gone, instead, with basic gut instincts.

One second he and Katie were trapped in a moment, mystified by the electricity crackling between them as seductive music played in the background, and the next, well, the next he'd brought his mouth down on hers and was kissing her.

Kissing Katie, not Brittany's stand-in, as he'd been regarding Katie all afternoon while they'd danced. Or rather, while she danced. As for him, he'd just shuffled and moved his feet, trying not to trip or pitch forward and embarra.s.s himself. But during that entire-and at times rather awkward-time, he'd regarded Katie as just a placeholder for the woman he really wanted to hold in his arms. The woman he really wanted to sweep off her feet.

Brittany.

But the woman he caught himself kissing wasn't Brittany's stand-in. He had been drawn to Katie, was kissing Katie because he couldn't rescue himself from the swirling curiosity, a need, that had suddenly risen up, urging him on.

And the worst of it was, kissing Katie satisfied nothing. It certainly didn't put his curiosity to rest. Instead, it just seemed to feed some insatiable craving within him. An all-consuming craving he shouldn't have felt for so many reasons that it would have taken him the better part of an hour just to list them.

Any second now, Blake told himself. Any second now he would step back and end this. Step back from Katie and into what this was all supposed to be about-a detailed campaign to win back the woman of his dreams.

But since he was already kissing Katie, he gave himself permission to continue this small aberration a few seconds longer.

After all, what were a few seconds in the ultimate scheme of things? They were so insignificantly minuscule, they didn't even register.

They didn't even- They didn't- Pulling Katie even closer to him, so close that he was in danger of merging with her very essence, Blake lost the train of his thought and then just gave up trying to think altogether.

Oh G.o.d.

Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d.

It had finally happened, Katie realized in a panic. She had finally cracked under the pressure of her own desire and was now hallucinating. She had to be hallucinating because this just couldn't be happening.

Oh, she'd wished it to happen, and ordinarily, wis.h.i.+ng didn't make something so. But somehow, this time around, she'd cracked and fallen headfirst down the rabbit hole where dreams became reality.

Except, that just did not happen. Not in her orderly world.

And yet, here she was, kissing Blake, losing herself in Blake. And dreams had become a reality.

Her body felt as if it was on fire as she rose up on her toes, absorbing every inch of heat emanating from his rock-hard torso. What thoughts she had were rolling about in her head like so many scattered marbles, turning here and there with no rhyme or reason to their movements.

If this was a hallucination, she would be more than happily willing to continue existing in this Mad Hatter world. There was nothing in her own, even-paced world worth going back for.

Nothing at all.

Except maybe for Wendy, a tiny voice from somewhere on the perimeter of her consciousness whispered. Wendy, who needed her. Who needed a friend to hold her hand while she dealt with the complications of her first pregnancy.

With a superhuman effort, something she'd never even suspected she possessed, Katie drew on all her strength to move her head back a fraction of an inch. Just enough to create a tiny bit of s.p.a.ce between them. A tiny s.p.a.ce that had all the characteristics of a huge, cold chasm.

The first words out of Blake's mouth made the temperature of that chasm even colder.

"I'm sorry."

She could feel her heart pulling into itself in her chest. Standing outside of herself, she heard this disembodied voice-hers?-ask, "For?" The single word came out as an all but inaudible whisper.

He read her lips more than heard her voice. Feeling incredibly alive and yet incredibly confused at the same time, Blake tried to give substance to his apology. Because what he'd done was take advantage of both Katie and the situation.

That just wasn't like him.

Was it? he wondered uncomfortably.

"For kissing you," he said out loud.

Stung by his apology, Katie did her best to appear unaffected and pretended to just shrug off the entire incident, which would be forever and indelibly burned into her soul from this moment forward.

"It's not like you branded me with a poker," she told him flippantly.

Except that in reality, that was exactly what had just happened. His kiss, the kiss that she had dreamt about for half her lifetime, had turned out to be a hundredfold better than anything she could have remotely imagined. Time had stood still while the earth moved and, as incongruent as that might have sounded to anyone, that was the only way she could even begin to explain what had just happened to her.

The last thing she wanted was to have him marring this for her with a stupid apology that was heavy with his regret. Maybe he was sorry about what had just happened between them, but she wasn't.

"Besides," she continued with studied nonchalance, "it happens. Don't give it another thought."

But I will, Blake realized. That's just the problem. I will.

Needing some distance, however minor, between them, she went over to the side table where she'd set up her iPod and the speaker, and shut them both down. As she deliberately kept her back to him, Katie did her best to sound chipper and completely in control-even though her knees still felt watery.

"I think that was enough of a dance lesson for one day."

"Yeah. Yes," he amended, then echoed, "Enough," much the way someone else might have cried, "Uncle!" Though he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, he was still not quite able to focus on anything. His brain felt incredibly fuzzy. Feeling adrift, he grasped onto the one thing that had been established: their routine. "Um, why don't I drive you back to Wendy's place?"

Turning around to face him, Katie glanced at her watch. It was only a few minutes after three in the afternoon. Way before the end of an actual workday. He really was eager to get rid of her, wasn't he? she thought with a bitter pang.

"I could stay and do some actual work," she volunteered. "Something that I would get paid for during a normal day," she clarified.

There was no way he could get his mind on work, not immediately. Not after what had just happened. Why did he feel as if he'd just fallen out of a twenty-foot tree, while she was acting as if nothing had happened? Hadn't she been on the other end of that kiss?

Maybe he underestimated Katie's experience level, he mused.

"No, I think you earned the rest of the afternoon off," he insisted.

Definitely eager to get rid of her, Katie thought again. And then more thoughts-questions-began to a.s.sail her. Had the kiss been that bad? Or that good? She suddenly caught herself wondering. Because heaven knew that kiss had just knocked the foundations of her world out from under her.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd experienced a slight setback in his plans, as well. Why else would he send her away in the middle of the day?

The more she thought about it, the more it heartened her. Finally, after all this time, a toehold.

"All right." She gathered together the iPod and its accompanying speaker, depositing them both back into her briefcase. "If you don't mind driving me back, I'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

Finally looking at him again, she felt another s.h.i.+ver dancing up and down her spine. G.o.d, but the man was just too d.a.m.n handsome for her own good.

"You might want to stay and have dinner with Wendy once we get there," she suggested.

"Won't that be hovering?" he asked, thinking of what Wendy had accused him of doing. That was still a very sore point with him.

Her mouth curved in a grin. "No, I'm pretty sure that's just called dinner." And then she grew a little more serious as she crossed back to him. "Wendy's very grateful that you rearranged your life so that you could be here for her while she's going through this trial-by-baby ordeal."

He checked his pockets for keys to both Scott's place and the rental he was driving. Right now, he wasn't all that certain about anything, but thankfully, the keys were in his left pocket. Taking them out, Blake led the way out of the house.

"She looked pretty annoyed with me the last time I saw her," he remembered.

Actually, Katie knew that Wendy had been downright angry because Blake was so consumed with the idea of going after Brittany, but Katie tactfully smoothed that over. "That's because she's worried about you."

"Worried?" he repeated incredulously. "Why would she be worried about me?"