Cisco could not stop staring at Melody. He was trying to reconcile the idea that she was here. Did the woman never sleep? Did she never play or have fun or do anything but work? What kind of life was that? And why was that any of his business?

Melody looked tired. She was still wearing her uniform from the coffee shop. The only difference between her job A and job B uniforms was the black apron tied securely around her body from neck to knees. Her brown hair was still in the messy knot on top of her head, and her green eyes were looking even flatter and more tired.

“Have you heard a word that I’ve said to you in the last five minutes?” Vittoria murmured. There was more than a hint of irritation in her tone.

Cisco mentally kicked himself. Vittoria was the sort of woman he should be going after. He should be trying to make himself indispensable to her. He should be romancing her or something. She was rich. She was connected. She was a senior partner in his law firm. Eventual marriage to someone like Vittoria would absolutely secure Cisco’s place in Denver society. He could make an honest attempt to leave his family’s machinations and drama behind. He could immerse himself in the legal scene. Perhaps he could eventually become a judge. Who knew? With someone like Vittoria at his side, the possibilities were endless.

Which meant he needed to nip her irritation in the bud right now. “You were saying that the man straight ahead is a federal judge, which I knew. Judge Everson and my father go way back. There was some land deal that the two of them negotiated together before Everson was a judge. I believe there was a favor involved, though neither man will admit it.” Cisco offered Vittoria a mild smile. “And you were also mentioning that you would like an opportunity to meet Everson because you are currently preparing to litigate a case in front of him and he’s a bit of an unknown quality to you.”

Vittoria drew back. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and then she linked her arm through his. “Very good,” she purred. “And to think I was under the assumption that you were absolutely engrossed in the waitress.”

“That’s silly,” he murmured. Why did it feel so wrong to say that? He should be trying to do his level best to assure Vittoria that there was absolutely no threat to her from Melody. “The young woman works in the coffee shop around the corner from our building. I see her sometimes in that shop. That’s all.”

“Oh, I see.” Vittoria’s eyes narrowed. Why did it feel as though he had not alleviated any of her discomfiture with his simple explanation? Women. They were all so paranoid and so very odd in the way they viewed each other. “She seems as though she is awfully familiar with you.”

“She’s just inherited some property,” Cisco said slowly. “I agreed to take a quick look at the estate attorney’s notes for her.”

“So, she’s a client.” Vittoria’s flat statement was almost dangerous in nature. Cisco could feel the risk, and it was pissing him off. “Then, you should make sure to bill her accordingly.”

“She’s not a client.” He let a bit of honest irritation creep into his voice. “She’s a minor acquaintance. I agreed to look at something. I’m not charging her because I’m not using company time, or even really my time. It’s minimal at best. The equivalent of glancing at something while I’m getting my coffee.”

“I see.” Vittoria suddenly beamed at him. “There’s no need to get prickly. How about we go say hello to Judge Everson? That will effectively change the subject. Don’t you think?”

Change the subject. That was her solution to this problem. Maybe it was the right thing to do. It was difficult to say. It was hard to judge what was really going on here. He had no idea what Vittoria’s angle was. He had no notion of what her plans were or her intentions were toward him or them or whatever this was. After all, it had been Cisco’s father to come up with this notion that they should come to this gala as a couple.

“Whatever you’d like,” Cisco murmured.

She put her arm through his once again and essentially dragged him over to Judge Everson. The jovial older man with the white hair and the big round belly had been a fixture in Denver society ever since Cisco could recall. Everson wore glasses as thick as the bottom of a bottle, and yet he spotted Cisco heading his way almost immediately.

“Cisco, my boy!” Everson boomed. “So good to see you here! Your father tells me you’ve graduated from law school and passed your test!” Everson slapped Cisco on the shoulder so hard that he had to plant his feet on the ballroom floor to keep himself from going flying. “So proud of you, boy!”

“Yes,” Vittoria said in an even more accented and slightly breathier tone of voice. “Francisco has passed his bar exam and will be working with me at Aquilar and Associates.”

“That right?” Everson glanced from Vittoria to Cisco. He gave the woman’s formfitting blue dress a very obvious once-over rake with his gaze. “And you are?”

“Vittoria Velasquez.” Vittoria put her hand out to shake Everson’s. “It’s just so nice to meet you! I’ve been an admirer of your career for long years now.”

Cisco scratched his jaw and looked down at the ground to avoid an open eye roll. That was most certainly slathering it on a little thick for his taste. It was obvious to anyone present that Vittoria was a lawyer and that Everson was a judge. It was also very apparent that she was making an attempt to ingratiate herself. For being a lawyer and a woman, she wasn’t very subtle.

“Well, I appreciate the mention,” Everson told Vittoria. Then he made a very firm quarter-turn to give her a portion of his back as he turned to Cisco once again. “Young man, your father tells me that you have declined a position at the corporate office! Why would you go and do a fool thing like that? They need you over at Hernandez Land & Cattle. Do you have any idea the nonsense that’s going on in this town at the moment regarding the Flying W and those rodeo stock contracts?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t say that I do.” Cisco sighed. “I don’t keep up with the rodeo goings-on these days.”

Everson flung his arm around Cisco’s shoulders, which required the man to make a pretty darn awkward reach up. “Cisco, you’ve got to get back on the horse, so to speak. You know?”

There were quite a few people gathered around Everson. From the corner of his eye, Cisco could see Vittoria’s tight-lipped smile. She was trying to pretend to be involved in this conversation, but it was obvious to anyone looking that she was not. He had a feeling he was absolutely going to pay for this incident later on.

“Sir,” Cisco drawled. He figured he could keep making a joke about this just as long as Everson wanted to keep harping on it. “My cowboy boots are hopelessly scuffed. I’ve put them in the closet and piled as much stuff on them as I can. I’ve got no intention of dragging them out ever again.”

“Scuffed cowboy boots?” Everson guffawed. He flung up his arms and waved to Cisco’s father. “Joe! Did you hear this nonsense? The boy says his boots are too scuffed to ride!”

“Then, I guess it’s a good thing he’s a Hernandez and can afford another pair!” Joe shouted back.

Cisco didn’t bother to hide his response this time. He let the eye roll go and groaned into the bargain. “Judge Everson, at some point, I really hope I can stand on my own two feet—without any cowboy boots—and not have to ask my daddy to buy me new shoes!”

There was a ripple of laughter around this side of the ballroom, and Cisco wondered if this was good or bad. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. He had tried to get out from under his father’s thumb. He was still trying. Unfortunately, it just felt as though pretty much everything in life was dragging him back in for more.

Everson let go of Cisco and started blabbing to the person nearest to him that he had known Cisco since he was a tiny buckaroo in his first pair of boots. Cisco gave a wave to the surrounding people and then began to stroll away with what he hoped was a very calm and practiced manner. He wanted high society. He wanted to be on the top rung of Denver’s social ladder. Unfortunately, when you started life as a Hernandez, this is what it took to crawl your way out from under your family’s shadow on the way to the top.

“What was that?” Vittoria hissed as soon as they were well enough away not to be heard. “You didn’t introduce me!”

“I didn’t have to,” Cisco pointed out. “You didn’t let me. You were too busy hurrying to introduce yourself. I could have told you not to mention his career or to pay him any compliments, but I honestly have my doubts that you would have listened to me.”

She started to speak but then seemed to stop herself. Cisco wished that he could see what was happening inside her head. Her expression seemed to freeze. It folded in on itself, and then he watched her smooth her face into a perfectly bland mask of total pleasantness. There was no hint of irritation or anything else. In fact, he could not have said if she were happy, sad, or something else entirely.

Then Vittoria took his hand and lifted it to her lips. The gesture shocked him. He could have sworn that she was angry with him only three seconds prior. Now her lips were whispering across the back of his hand in an almost provocative manner. He struggled with the urge to snatch his hand away.

She gave him a hooded bedroom gaze. “It’s becoming pretty apparent that you are quite a popular man here in Denver.”

Cisco didn’t know what to say about that. So, he said nothing. It was making him feel strange in a rather odd way.

“Oh, come on, Francisco!” Vittoria gushed.

She sidled in very close to his body and pressed her side to his front. He could feel the swell of her breasts beneath her dress. It was oddly unpleasant, and yet he could not get the feeling out of his head that he should be liking this. She was an attractive woman. She was everything that he was supposed to be “going after” if he was going to go after anything at all. And yet at the moment, Cisco didn’t want anything to do with her at all.

“Vittoria,” he began.

She put her index finger against his lips. “You’re right. I was brash and very forward. I do that sometimes when I want something very badly.”

His heart began to thud against his ribs. It was a vaguely uncomfortable sensation. It most certainly felt as if what he was feeling had nothing to do with arousal or attraction. It was straight-up uncertainty. Much like a man who was attempting to cuddle up to a bear, he was feeling as though he might be in danger of getting his head ripped off without warning.

“No, Francisco,” she whispered. Placing her hand flat on his chest, she slid it down into his tuxedo jacket and moved her fingers toward his waist. “Don’t speak. I know that I’ve been a bad girl.”

Bad girl? What was she doing?

They were in a ballroom full of people, but she had backed him toward one of the columns draped in lengths of colored silk. There was an odd amount of privacy available in a crowded room. Much more than Cisco would have ever wished for in these circumstances.

Vittoria pressed herself against his chest. She slung her arms around his neck. Then she began to move her lips across his jawline. The tickling sensation sent a chill down his back, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. And there was absolutely nothing going on below his waist. He wasn’t that kind of man. He did not find himself attracted randomly to just anyone in a dress. Comfort was a big part of the arousal process for him, and right now, he was anything but.

“Vittoria,” Cisco said in a clipped tone. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing,” she laughed. “What else would I be doing, you silly, naughty boy?”

He looked toward the dance floor. More than half a dozen couples had moved out onto the floor and were now sashaying around in a very simple waltz. He firmly took Vittoria’s hand and then moved toward the floating wood floor in the center of the room. “Then, let’s do this right and actually dance.”

Her expression shifted again. He could not begin to tell what was on her mind or what she might be planning or thinking or even feeling about this moment. The only thing that he did know was that he felt safer with Vittoria out in the open where nothing could happen that would not be witnessed by the whole room.

“Dancing,” she murmured. “Dancing is like sex, you know?”

“No.” He held her in the waltz position with firm arms and a very hard frame. “I’ve never felt that way about dancing.”

Then Vittoria’s gaze narrowed. “Perhaps that is why your boots are scuffed. You need to let your partner lead.”

He didn’t have a comment in response to that. It felt like a jab, and he didn’t like it. Not at all.