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Oh, was I right.

That gorgeous man was making his way through the crowd. Couples who were dancing spun out of his way, as if he had the power to command a storm. To part the waters with the wicked gleam of those eyes. Or maybe it was just with the ruthlessness that oozed with every step that he took.

As if he were on the hunt.

The second he caught sight of me, his sexy mouth twisted up in an arrogant grin.

There I was, in for the fight of my life, and I was allowing myself to get all hot and bothered by some gorgeous stranger who was clearly after one thing.

A shiver rolled down my spine, and I kept backing away as he came closer.

Good lord, gorgeous was right.

Impossible, really.

So beautiful, I’d momentarily gone stupid when I’d glanced that way and saw him standing at the opposite end of the bar a few minutes ago. So obscenely sexy I’d thought I had to be hallucinating.

My mind conjuring a fantasy to make getting through the night a little less brutal.

He angled through the chaos of couples that swirled and spun and swayed.

Tux fitting that perfect body like he’d been sewn into it, shoulders wide and waist narrow, taller than any man had the right to be.

He stared at me from across the hazy glow of lights, making me fumble, the glittering light catching his eyes that were the color of cracked cinnamon and speckled with the sun.

Still wearing that sexy-as-sin grin, he roughed a hand through his brown hair that was cut short and styled impeccably.

Every line of his masculine face was chiseled and sharp, the guy carved of stone, a perfectly trimmed five o’clock shadow defining his strong jaw. I’d have said he was made of marble, all smooth and shiny and glossy, except there was something rough beneath that polished exterior.

Something raw and unbridled.

Dangerous in a way that made my stomach quake.

But after he’d opened that deliciously decadent mouth, I’d realized he was no fantasy.

He was nothing but a bad dream.

A delusion.

That pretty exterior nothing but an illusion of all the nastiness hidden underneath.

Problem was, I was held by that fantasy. Captured and entranced as he strode in my direction. I needed to up and run, and instead, I was standing in the middle of the dancefloor like a lamb that wanted to get eaten.

I’d finally just about come to my senses when he was suddenly right there, a tower of darkness that cast a shadow over me, so damned tall I had to tilt my head back to fully take him in.

But it wasn’t really me who was doing the taking.

He was devouring me with that potent gaze, exactly like I’d imagined.

“Dance with me.” It was a rough command.

A lure.

That energy moved.

A stir at my feet.

I tried not to get trapped by it, by the feeling of it crawling up my legs and spreading over my body. Chaining me to the spot.

I swallowed down the attraction. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He came closer. Stealing the air and making me shiver.

His mouth was so close to my ear that I couldn’t tell if it was his breath or his lips that were sending tingles rushing as they brushed across my skin. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

“That’s because you don’t have anything to lose.”

“Don’t I?”

If I wasn’t watching him so closely, I might have missed the way he grimaced, the way something struck him deep.

It only lasted for a second before that smirk slipped into something seductive.

“Besides, what could one dance hurt?”

“Oh, I’m sure it could hurt plenty.”

I knew it in the way I’d started to move around him, attracted and repelled, as if this man was the gravity in the room. We were suddenly in a slow dance. Not even touching, and still, I could feel him everywhere.

As if those big hands were roaming over my body. Making me scream and shiver and quake.

And my body was already making the foolish decision for me, drawn toward him, compelled by the rhythm of the music as everything pitched into a mesmerized sway.

He leaned in, his mouth back at my ear. “You’re worried about being hurt, when the only thing I’m thinking about is how good I could make you feel. I’d make you lose your mind, beautiful.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Not for a second.

“Everyone deserves a moment to forget,” he murmured, as if he already saw all the things bleeding inside me, and then I really was shivering because he looped an arm around my waist and pulled me close.

The two of us were instantly at one with the cadence of the slow, provocative beat. “Let me be the one to do it.”

I inhaled a trembling breath when I realized I was in his arms.

The man was so big. Tall and powerful in a way that should make me afraid, muscles hard and bursting with strength, but somehow, I was wanting to completely melt into the strength of his hold.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance