“You’ll say anything, won’t you?” I keep my tone light, but I’m burning up. My skin is hot and flushed, and I feel like I might spontaneously combust. Gideon dances like a panther about to pounce, like his body can’t possibly contain the inferno of raw energy raging to escape, and the sensation that escalates inside my body each time he touches me—his hands glancing against my hips, against my waist—triggers an internal craving in my core that’s urging me to pounce on him.

And I would, if I would only let my body do what it wanted to do.

Instead, I keep the lightning bottled up tight, stopping myself from running my hands down the front of his shirt and ripping it off him, sending the buttons flying to expose what I’m absolutely certain is a hard, chiseled chest and washboard abs.

“That wasn’t a pick-up line.” His breath wisps against my ear and I instantly sense more aching need pooling between my legs. “I want to know. What else do you want to do before time runs out?”

I want to make a crack about how melodramatic it is to talk about time running out when, from what I can remember, Gideon isn’t much older than I am, but I can’t—because I know. I know how short time can be. I know how, in an instant, one choice can change everything, and permanently. 

I’m back in the car, hurtling forward, fumbling for the clasp on the seatbelt, trying to fit the two ends together. It’s hard to do with blurred vision and shaking hands, but it seems like the most important thing I’ve ever done. If only this would slide into the connecting piece.

“There’s a lot I want to do,” I say, taking in a big breath of him. Including you. The thought alone brings color rushing to my cheeks. I’m not the kind of girl who notices men like him—in the club, a stranger…a wealthy stranger. I don’t pay attention to them because I know what it means to let someone else have even the slightest bit of control over your life, and it’s not worth the risk.

It’s not worth the risk, I repeat firmly to myself, even as Gideon’s hands brush alluringly against my hips.

Somewhere in the crowd behind him, Leah emerges, catching my eye. She’s dancing at the edge of our little group, Gideon’s friend wrapped seductively around one of the other bridesmaids, and when she sees that my arms are thrown around Gideon’s neck, that his hands are firmly grounded on my hips, that we’re definitely alone together in the middle of this crowd, her eyes go wide and she flashes me two thumbs up. He’s so hot, she mouths, and I shoot a glare in her direction, my eyes narrowed.

She’s right. He’s by far the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life, and the way he’s moving his sexy body against me—gracefully, sinuously, but without being gross—is lighting up every nerve ending in my body like a matchstick.

“Don’t leave me,” he says, and I whip my gaze back to his, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing straight up.

“What?”

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he repeats, and my pulse surges in my veins. “What else is it that you want to do?”

I’m trying to keep myself in check, trying to hold back, but something in the hum of his voice makes me want to tell him the truth, tell him everything—and then keep telling him, all night long. A vision of pristine white sheets crumpling under my clenched hands and writhing body flashes into my mind.

“I don’t like to do anything dangerous.”

He grins, and something dark and sultry crosses his eyes. “You’re dancing with me.”

“Are you dangerous?”

A slight shrug, a quirk of his lips. “Depends on how you define dangerous.”

My breath hitches in my throat. God, I want to be the kind of woman who can banter, who can keep up this delicious flirtation for hours on end, but Gideon keeps stumbling onto real questions that burn right down to my core, burn in my heart. “Do you keep your girlfriends safe?”

He leans down, lips almost—almost—brushing against the silky bare skin of my neck. “I don’t have many girlfriends. But when women are with me, they couldn’t be more safe.”

I frown. “Even when you’re jumping out of a plane?”

“Even then.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

He laughs, his green eyes glinting in the flashing lights. “No, but I can tell you want me to.”

“I don’t—” I shake my head. I have half of a mind to pull away from him, to end this little game right now, but the urge to keep touching him is so strong that I pretend it’s a more defiant move to keep my arms steady on his shoulders, keep my hips swaying with the beat, almost grazing the front of his pants, but not quite, not quite. “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.”

He turns me around in place, pulling me a little closer, and I try to catch my breath. It’s not that dancing is taxing. It’s that breathing in his scent is making me a breathless, reckless version of myself, like the entire planet is shifting underneath me and I can’t quite keep up with it. Gideon is the only anchor.

I catch another glimpse of Leah in the crowd, grinning at me like I’ve won the lottery, and my heart aches a little. It’s her bachelorette party, and I’ve spent all night on the defense…like I have every other time we’ve gone out. If it makes her this happy that I’m dancing with a rich, hot, practical stranger, then I can probably afford to cut loose.

A little.

Because this is one night. Not even a full night, really. More like a couple of hours. Men like Gideon Hawke don’t spend their lives with anxious, regular women like me. My heart pounds a little faster. I’m not exactly starstruck, but it didn’t occur to me until this moment that this might be my one chance to have a little fun with a guy like him.

But what can he possibly see in me?

I force that thought out of my mind. I look good tonight, and even if I’m not a member of New York City’s upper society, I’m not the bottom of the heap, either. 

“What’s stopping you from going to Hawaii?”

“Skin cancer.” Gideon laughs out loud. “Seriously. It’s pretty risky to spend so much time in the sun, and with beaches like that, I’d never want to go inside. Plus, there’s the whole concept of flying for so long over the ocean, which—”

“Relax.” Gideon’s voice curls into my ear, and my body responds before my mind can shut it down, every muscle lapsing deeper into the beat of the music, into his body.

“What have you always wanted to do?” I blurt out, because he’s dangerously close to me now, and even though I want to give myself over to this night, I’m not quite there yet.

Gideon’s expression turns dark and intimate as the music raises another decibel, cascading over both of us like a wave. I can’t take my eyes off his lips. I hang onto the silence between us, waiting for his answer.