Page 17 of Moonlit Colorado

“A really fancy one!” I defended. “With artisan cheeses and prosciutto and fresh, handmade bread. And fruit and olives and tiny pickles, arranged like it’s a work of art and not just food.”

His grin was awfully big. “You’re adorable.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I love a good cheeseboard.”

My face heated. I wished I didn’t like the way he looked at me so much. Warnings kept shooting off in my brain like emergency flares.Mayday. Don’t trust him.

But I didn’t have to trust him with my heart. It was just a conversation. A little flirting. One strange, unlikely evening spent together at a party. I was a Silver Ridge girl, and he was from…somewhere else. New York or Chicago or LA.

He would leave town soon, and I couldn’t imagine I’d ever see him again.

We talked about our favorite foods and books. And then college football, which I followed becausebrothers. We talked about things that were personal but also not, and our banter flowed easily. The man was clearly intelligent. Smart enough to steer around the things I didn’t want to discuss, like our real lives and identities.

I skipped the second glass of wine. But I leaned into his arm, feeling his solid bulk up against me. It was distracting enough to feel his body through the layers of his shirt and jacket. But those few times we touched skin to skin, electricity sparked between us. His fingers grazing my ear when he fixed the strap of my mask. My touch on his wrist again to check his watch, even though I could’ve looked at my phone.

Far more than an hour had passed.

“My friend is probably looking for me,” I said. Though we hadn’t left the bar area, so Piper could’ve found me if she’d been so inclined. “I should go.”

“I don’t want tonight to end yet. And I don’t think you do either.”

“Maybe. So far it’s been fun.”

“It has. I like you, Ms. Red. I think you like me too.”

“You have a lot of opinions about what’s going on in my head.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” I admitted. “You’re not wrong.”

His fingertips nudged the underside of my chin, urging me to tip my head. Putting me in the perfect position to lower his mouth to mine if he’d wanted to.

“Come upstairs to my suite.”

Liquid heat ignited in my veins. “For what?” I asked before mentally kicking myself. I knewfor what. But even though we’d been talking and flirting and touching for almost two hours, I still hadn’t been expecting his invitation.

He laughed softly. “For whatever you like. I’d love for you to spend the night with me.”

Air. I needed air. Every breath I took was infused with his scent.

It took a long time, far too long, to drag the words out of me. “I can’t.”

“Youcando whatever you want. That’s the question. Do youwantme to take you upstairs and worship you until the sun comes up?”

“Uuurghm.” The sound I made was embarrassing. Nowhere near sexy. Yet for some reason, it made the wicked glint in his eyes flare even brighter.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he liked it.

“I would love to see how far down your body that pretty blush goes,” he murmured.

I couldn’t think. My brain wasn’t working. But the rest of me wanted to strip down right here and let him do whatever he wanted. Which was madness. I didn’t know what kind of sexual superpower he had, what kind of pheromones were mixed into his cologne, but he was dangerous alright.

Tonight, though? I was Ms. Red. And Ms. Red kind of liked the idea of dangerous. Wanted excitement and passion. Things that I normally stayed far away from and didn’t allow myself. When else would I have this chance?

For one night, I didn’t have to be Grace O’Neal.

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