Page 13 of Dating the Rebel
She studied his face. “I knew it...”
“What?”
“You’re definitely up to something.”
“Six four,” he said.
Her brow furrowed for a moment before she laughed. “Smart-ass.”
“Takes one to know one.” She was smart—as smart as she was sexy. So of course she’d already guessed that he was up to something.
He could have just come clean and told her what it was—that he didn’t want her messing up his sister’s new relationship. But as she’d just pointed out, every time he’d tried talking her into something in the past, she’d ignored him. He was going to make sure that she couldn’t ignore him this time.
He was going to make her as damn aware of him as he was of her. He was going to make her want him, too.
CHAPTER FIVE
MIRANDAHADBEENso busy wondering if Grant was going to try to kill her that she hadn’t bothered asking him where he was taking her. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d bailed out of the plane over the water. Instead he’d landed it—it had seemed nearly on the water, but it had actually been on the island of Ibiza.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d bring her to a place known for partying. But with her head already beginning to pound, she wasn’t enjoying the volume of the dance music blaring out of the speakers in the crowded nightclub. She also felt overdressed in comparison to all the bikini-clad dancers. Not that she felt like stripping down to a bikini...
Not with the way Grant kept looking at her, as if he was already undressing her. Heat rushed through her—from his sexy stare and from the humidity in the club crowded with sweaty bodies.
The dampness in the air molded Grant’s shirt to his muscular chest; he’d discarded his jacket somewhere earlier and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Miranda wasn’t able to take off anything but her shoes, and with the way people were gyrating around, she worried that she’d lose a toe if she did that.
She groaned at how much her thoughts reminded her of Regina. Judgy and old beyond her years. That wasn’t her. Or was it?
She had changed. She wasn’t the fun-loving Miranda she’d once been.
“What’s the matter?” Grant asked. Despite the loudness of the music, she could hear his deep voice.
He wouldn’t be able to hear her, so she forced a smile and shook her head. For so long she’d secretly wanted to go out with him. But while he hadn’t ditched her to play poker in a janitor’s closet, this wasn’t the date she’d imagined.
Hell, she hadn’t imagined a date at all. She’d imagined kissing and more...even when she’d been too young to truly understand just how enjoyablemorecould be.
“Don’t you want to dance?” he asked.
The kind of dance that sprang to her mind wasn’t done in a crowded club but between the tangled sheets of a soft bed. With nothing but sweaty skin sliding over sweaty skin...
She cleared her throat, trying to clear the desire from it. But Grant must have thought she’d said something because he leaned close. Too close...
His hair brushed across her cheek, and the softness of it sent a shiver rippling through her despite the heat. She was so damn aware of him already, but with him so close, the scent of him filling her senses...
He smelled like what she and Blair used to callboy—that curious mixture of rain-scented soap and musk. But she couldn’t call that smell boy anymore. Not in relation to Grant, anyway. He was all man.
And all too tempting.
She’d been so busy with the business that she hadn’t been out with anyone in a long time. Too long...
So maybe she needed to push the business from her mind and focus on something else. Or someone else...
But focusing on Grant was dangerous. So she pushed past him instead to head toward the dance floor. Ignoring the pounding in her head and the vibration of the speakers inside her body, she began to move to that frantic beat.
She hadn’t lost Grant. He’d followed her onto the floor, and he stuck close to her on it, his body moving in rhythm with hers. Because the floor was so crowded, they had to dance close, their bodies bumping into and brushing against each other. Her pulse quickened and her breathing grew shallower with every touch.
Despite all the bikini-clad women around them, Grant’s gaze never left her. A thrill rushed through her that he seemed as attracted to her as she was him.
But was it all an act?
