A dangerous thing, that.
For the both of them.
Across the room, Gabi danced with her brother. The two of them laughed and smiled . . . obviously caring for the other. Hunter couldn’t blame the man for being such a hard-ass. If he’d had a younger sister who had said yes to a temporary marriage, he didn’t think he would sit by and watch silently.
Meg slid up beside him. “You don’t seem the wallflower type,” she told him.
He allowed his eyes to leave Gabi.
“Just watching.”
“They look good.”
He nodded.
“I haven’t seen Gabi dance since before Alonzo died. Even at our wedding, she did what she had to, but she wasn’t happy about it.”
He couldn’t help but wonder why Meg was opening up.
“I never liked the man.”
“And why are you telling me this?”
She sipped her drink. “I’m not sure.”
He ran his fingers over the condensation on his glass. “Let me guess, your next words are a warning that if I hurt her I’ll have to answer to you.”
Meg lifted her eyebrows. “I thought about it. But no. I won’t have a chance.”
“Too many people in line in front of you.”
“Exactly.”
They both watched their spouses on the dance floor for a minute before he lifted his hand, palm up. “Dance?”
Women loved to dance. It was something Hunter learned about them early on. The music was upbeat enough to engage in a few twists and enough movement to avoid a lot of body contact. Still, he felt Val’s eyes on him as he led Meg through a few moves.
When the music changed, this time slowing down, Val tapped his shoulder and they switched partners.
The tropical scent of Gabi’s hair hit him first.
When her hand gripped his, her other reaching up on his shoulder, it took every ounce of power to avoid molding his body to hers.
After a few tentative steps, she leaned in close. “You’re a good dancer,” she told him.
He moved them around with style. “I dated a theater major in college. I had to learn or get left behind.”
Gabi smiled. “And how long did you date Miss Actress?”
“Two months.”
Her hand reached around his back. The feel of her fingers flexing on his shoulder distracted him enough to where he missed a step, but quickly recovered.
“Two months is hardly dating . . . more like a fling.”
“It was college.”
“But you kept that style of dating most your life.”
He glanced down, narrowed his eyes. “Part of your background check?”
“I stopped searching for names after I reached thirty.”
“Thirty? The tabloids stretch the truth.”
“So there weren’t thirty?”
He’d never counted. And even he knew that counting past dates while dancing with another woman . . . his wife . . . wasn’t smart.
“Nowhere close to thirty.”
She laughed. “I’ll pull my notes and we can compare.”
He distracted her with a few quick circles, pushing her out of his arms and back in. Fred Astaire would applaud.
People around them offered a little more room. He glanced at Val and Meg. “Well it’s official. Everyone in your immediate family has threatened to take care of me if I hurt you.”
Gabi pulled in a breath before dropping her forehead on his chest. “I should apologize.”
“They don’t know how strong you are.”
“I’m not that strong.” Her voice was low, nearly impossible to hear over the music.
He held her a little tighter after that.
The song ended, the pace picked up, and Hunter led her off the dance floor. At some point he realized he hadn’t let her hand go. Jesus, when was the last time he held a woman’s hand?
Meg interrupted their silence. “We’re headed in,” she told them.
Gabi released Hunter’s hand and hugged her sister-in-law.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. We didn’t have enough time.”
“I’m an airplane away,” Gabi reminded her.
“Yeah. Let me know when escrow closes. I’ll help you furniture shop.”
Val offered a laugh. “I hope that wallet is as deep as you say it is, Hunter.”
It’s part of the deal, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “I think I have it.”
Gabi kissed both her brother’s cheeks and watched Val and Meg walk out of the nightclub.
With the two of them now alone, he felt his pulse pick up. Nerves? Really? Since when?
“Do you want to go? Another drink?”
Gabi glanced at the bar, wrinkled her nose. “It’s late.”
He offered his arm and she took it.
The fragrant scents of the island, along with the ocean, mixed with the warm night air. Music drifted from the nightclub until they wound past the main building and down a path to their villa.
“Your brother has built something really special here,” he said.
She sighed. “After our father died, he was driven to take care of us. It wasn’t an option for the resort to fail.”
Hunter understood that . . . the drive, the determination to move forward, conquer the next hill.
“Has he ever considered expanding . . . different locations?”
Her hand loosened on his arm as they walked. “At one point he talked about it. Then . . .”
Her words caught in her throat. A universal sign that he was treading in Alonzo waters.
The outside veranda of their private villa faced the ocean. The moon wasn’t full, but the sky was clear, letting the reflection dance off the waters like brilliant diamonds of the clearest cut. Instead of stuffing themselves inside, Hunter pulled out a lounge chair and encouraged her to sit. As much as he wanted to take her inside and start up where they left off in the kitchen earlier that day, he knew acting on that now would be a colossal mistake.