Page 30 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

Graeme shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “Since you have a target on your back. I can’t let you dance with just anyone.”

I scoff, planting my hands on my hips. The audacity of him!

“It’s a wedding, Graeme! I think I’m allowed to have a little fun!”

His jaw tightens, his eyes flashing like blue fire. “Not with strangers, you’re not.”

Oh, that isit.

Seething, I step into his space, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze head-on. “Fine. Thenyou’redancing with me.”

Graeme tenses, his expression unreadable, and I think he’s going to turn me down flat. This stone-hearted alpha asshole probably doesn’t do something as passionate and sensual as dance.

But then, without a word, he extends his hand to me, his eyes blazing with an unspoken challenge. My anger gives way to nervous anticipation as I slide my fingers into his rough palm.

What in the seven hells am I doing?

This is the opposite of keeping my distance. The opposite of not doing something reckless and foolish.

But as Graeme leads me onto the dance floor, his touch searing through the thin silk of my dress, I can’t bring myself to care.

I want this. I want him.

Even if it’s just for one dance.

Graeme pulls me close, one hand resting on the small of my back, the other entwining with mine. As we start to move, I’m struck by how graceful he is, how effortlessly he leads me in a dance that’s somehow both elegant and sensual.

Every point where our bodies touch is electric, his cold skin rough even through his suit. I’m hyper-aware of the flex of his muscles beneath my fingertips, the sway of my hips against his, the heat building between us with every step and turn.

Graeme’s pale blue eyes burn into mine, intense and unwavering. The rest of the room fades away until it’s just the two of us, swaying to the music, lost in each other.

My heart races, my blood singing with a need I can no longer deny. I want to run my hands over every inch of his chiseled body. To taste his lips.

To have his weight pressing me into the mattress.

Graeme spins me out and then reels me back in, my back colliding with his solid chest. His hand splays across my stomach, holding me to him as we move in sync. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed as I surrender to the sensations coursing through me.

My whole body is alight, every cell crying out for more.

I know suddenly and surely that I must have this man, if he’d have me, too. I want to know everything about him.

What he feels like underneath me and inside of me.

Maybe Mariah is right. Maybe it’s time to throw caution to the wind and have a wedding fling.

Just for one night only.

Surely I can survive one night without giving my heart away.

12

GRAEME

The wedding band strikes up a slow, sensual melody as I lead Ecco onto the dance floor. My palms tingle where they press against the silky fabric of her dress, sensitive to every curve and contour of her luscious figure.

I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of her all night. I’d like to tell myself that it’s because she’s my client; it’s my job to stare at her, to keep her in my sightlines.

But gods, the way she looks in that dress. She was luminous when she sang the first dance song for Mariah and Thorak. Every person in the room was captivated by her—most of all, me.

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