Maureen Child - Fortune's Legacy

“Uh-huh.”

Disbelief rang in Isa’s tone, and Kyra didn’t know how to convince her friend. Especially when there was a slim, fragile, wispy, almost nonexistent thread of worry unspooling inside her. Fine. Garrett was gorgeous. And just maybe, under other, very different circumstances, there might have been something between them.

In a different life.

On a different planet.

In another universe.

Oh, boy.

“I see that look,” Isa said with an air of triumph.

“What look?”

“The look that says, ‘I might be interested.’”

“I’m not.”

“Sure.”

“And even if I were,” Kyra hedged, “he isn’t.”

“Okay.”

“Stop agreeing with me.”

“Whatever you say.”

Kyra’s eyes narrowed. “You’re doing this deliberately.”

“Yeah,” Isa said, laughing. “But it got your mind off everything else, didn’t it?”

Yes, it had. However, her mind was probably safer worrying about being fired than it was thinking about Garrett Wolff in a sexual way. She’d spent the last two days waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d half expected to be called into his office for the review he’d promised her and then be given a hearty handshake and a severance check.

Her nerves were stretched tight and every breath felt like an Olympic event. She couldn’t take much more of this. Plus, Garrett had been acting differently the last couple of days, too. He’d come out of his office and strolled through the division often enough to start making other people nervous. All of a sudden he was paying attention. Talking to people. Listening to people.

And none of that could be good.

There was something else going on here. Something he was planning.

She just wished she knew what it was.

“You’re thinking again,” Isa said, reaching across the table to slap Kyra’s shoulder. “Cut it out.”

“Okay, okay.” Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, blew it out and said, “You’re right. No more thinking about Garrett Wolff. No more thinking about work. What’s the point, right?”

“Right.”

“I mean, if I’m going to be fired, thinking about it won’t change anything, right?”

“Right.” Isa nodded and gave her an encouraging grin.

“And if I’m living out of a shopping cart by this time next month, I’ll survive, right?”

Isa laughed outright. “You really should have gone for a drama degree instead of business.”

“Fine, fine.” She picked up her margarita for another sip, then smiled as she set it down. “No drama. No thinking.”

“Atta girl.”

Across the room, the band launched into a fast-paced song with a pounding, staccato rhythm that had even Kyra’s toes tapping.

“Come on,” Isa said, standing up and grinning. “It’s a line dance. Let’s go.”

She thought about it for a second or two. She hadn’t been in the mood for company tonight. Hadn’t wanted to come out and join the world. She’d wanted nothing more than to curl up in the dark quiet of her condo and concentrate on the misery being heaped on her.

But now that she was here, the world was looking a little friendlier. She wasn’t sure if it was Isa’s influence or the margarita, but whatever it was, it beat the heck out of sitting home alone, brooding.

Jumping to her feet, Kyra said, “Good idea.” If she was dancing, she wouldn’t be thinking. And right now that sounded like a plan.

She followed Isa through the crowd and took her place in the long line of dancers already moving through an intricate ten-step routine. Kyra swung her hair out of her eyes, laughed aloud and slid into the moves with practiced ease, letting go of everything in the sheer enjoyment of the music washing over her.

Boots stomped against the floor, hands clapped, dancers shouted and the band played faster, challenging them all to increase the pace.

Garrett stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched Kyra move. And damn, the woman had some great moves.

She wore a long-sleeved, red silk blouse, dark blue jeans that clung to her shapely legs like a lover’s hands, and shiny black boots. Her hips swayed with the beat and her feet flew, keeping up with the complicated steps of the dance. He watched her toss her head back and laugh, and he was caught by the way her eyes shone and her whole face lit up with pleasure.

He’d never seen Kyra like this.

Always, at the office, she was the career-committed female, on the way up. She was good at her job and concentrated on the work. She was usually pleasant, always efficient and completely annoying. And still he’d noticed her.

Hadn’t wanted to, but how could he have helped it? Any man would have been drawn to the scent of her. The look of her, softly feminine in slacks and jackets that looked as if they’d been designed especially for her.

At Voltage, she was an irritant who touched him in ways he didn’t like to think about.

But here at Rio’s she was someone else entirely. And something inside him tightened into a knot of hunger so raw, so strong, it surprised even him.

He’d only dropped by the club to see the owner, an old friend from college. But he’d been trapped there the moment he saw Kyra headed for the dance floor.

As the song ended, the band jumped quickly into another, not wanting to lose the crowd up dancing. Kyra and the dark-haired woman she was talking to automatically started moving again, keeping their places in the long line of dancers.

And almost before Garrett knew it, he was stepping up beside the tall blonde with the beautiful eyes.

She laughed, spun, kicked her right heel, then looked up at him, and all semblance of joy drained from her face. Her shining eyes went flat and cool and suspicious.

He was surprised to realize he didn’t like the fact she was so upset at running into him.

“Ms. Fortune,” he said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the band.

“Mr. Wolff,” she muttered, then started backing off the floor.

Damn it. She couldn’t get away fast enough. He never should have talked to her. Should have just left. But how the hell could he have done that after seeing her smile? Laugh? Dance? “Going somewhere?” he asked.

“I’m tired.”

“You don’t look tired.” Just eager to escape.

She blew out a disgusted breath that ruffled the fringe of bangs on her forehead. “You know, we’re not at the office. I don’t have to talk to you.”

That stung. And that fact, too, surprised the hell out of him. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “We’re not at the office, so why don’t you drop the attitude?”

Her head snapped back and her blue-green eyes shot sparks. “If you don’t like my attitude, why are you talking to me?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered, though at the moment he was having a hard time remembering just why he’d followed his instinct to approach her. Then his gaze dropped, and he looked her up and down slowly, and he remembered.

This was a different Kyra from the one he knew, and damned if she didn’t appeal to him on all sorts of levels.

Another dancer bumped into her, and Garrett reached out to steady her. At the slight contact, heat swept up his arm and ricocheted around his chest. She sucked in a breath and shook herself loose from his grasp. But her eyes glistened and her face was flushed.

“Kyra,” the pretty brunette shouted from close by. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” She waved a hand at her friend, then shifted her gaze back to Garrett. “If you’ll excuse me—”

She was leaving, and suddenly he didn’t want her to go. “Not afraid, are you?”

She stiffened and he could almost see her temper spike.

“Of you?”

“That’s the question.”