Page 56 of Hot Pursuit
Tenuous ground.
And though she’d told Thad her plan was to seduce Agent Parker to steal information, here, now, with his palm pressed against the small of her back as he led her onto the dance floor, Jo wasn’t sure she was prepared to deal with the ramifications of that plan. Not when she knew deep down that her heart was in the game, though it without a doubt shouldn’t have been.
Nate swept her around to face him, confident and controlled as he held her body close and lifted her right hand. His chin pressed against her temple so they were chest to chest, hardly any space in between. Not asking permission, he stepped. She followed, letting him lead, her body swaying in tune with his, so naturally—too naturally. The fingers resting on the small of her back began to trace the contours of her spine, up and down, then in small circles, sending a tingle up her back and across her skin. Did he know what he was doing? Was he even aware? Jo was too aware. Too sensitive to his touch. Beneath the surface, an electric charge gathered, spiking with heat as tingles shot across her nerves like little bolts of lightning, a storm only Nate Parker seemed capable of creating.
She started to panic.
Jo had to keep things neutral.
Safe.
At a distance.
Plans be damned. At this point, it was pure self-preservation.
“Where’d a Fed learn how to dance?” she asked, using humor as her shield.
Nate wasn’t buying it. He pressed his nose into her hair. The warm brush of his breath against her neck sent her nerves into a tizzy as sparks caught fire, one after another after another, spreading down the nape of her neck and across her shoulder. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Jo breathed in, trying to get air to her struggling lungs.
Keep it light.
Keep it surface.
“You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she teased.
He nuzzled closer so they were cheek to cheek. “Did you think about what I said?”
What?
She resisted the urge to physically shake her head.
Where the hell did that come from?
Jo jerked back, just far enough to stare into his eyes, to meet his subtle challenge head-on. “You want to do this here? Now?”
“I’m not doing anything, Jo.” Nate shrugged, far too casual to mean it. The left edge of his lip quirked. “I’m just asking a simple question. Did you think about it?”
Yes.
“No.”
“You ran a background check on me, right? Before New York?”
She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him, but nodded anyway, playing along.
“Did you ever wonder why a special agent in the organized crime unit was investigating an art thief and his daughter?”
Yes.
“No.”
He continued as though he didn’t hear her response. “The man following us yesterday was a member of the American branch of the Russian mafia. Did you know that?”
No!
“No…”
