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At first Harley thought she was destined for an afternoon of torture—dealing with two generations of Gerard men couldn’t possibly be a good thing. But the elder Mr. Gerard quickly proved that the boorish, arrogant genes had skipped at least one generation in the family.
A very distinguished looking man, he had a head full of wavy white hair and the same quicksilver eyes as his grandson. But there the similarities ended. The elder Mr. Gerard smiled easily and didn’t raise her hackles with stupid remarks.
“So you’re the skilled investigator I’ve been hearing so much about,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”
If he’d been hearing about her from his grandson, Harley would bet money skilled wasn’t the only adjective used to describe her. “You, as well, sir. I know someone on the force who says you should have a square named after you for cutting back plea bargaining while you were district attorney.”
“Nice to know I’m still remembered. It’s been a few years since I retired.”
“You dropped the percentage of plea-bargained cases from eighty percent to ten,” Gerard said. “Impact like that lasts.”
Stuart smiled graciously. “Fortunately the numbers are holding under the current administration.”
No thanks to Stuart’s grandson. Harley knew that Gerard had left his career with the district attorney’s office and ditched his fiancée to indulge in an early midlife crisis. Rumor had it that his family and friends thought he’d lost his mind, and she sincerely wished that he’d continued in his grandfather’s footsteps so he wouldn’t have wound up working for Josh.
Keeping that thought to herself, she dodged the sudden silence by reaching for her water glass.
Gerard caught her hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s dance,” he repeated. “You’re wearing a dress.”
Leave it to the whiz kid to notice the obvious. And he didn’t look fazed in the least that half the table was hanging on his every word. Arrogance truly was an amazing thing.
“You don’t want to dance with me any more than I want to dance with you,” she whispered.
“Here’s a classic example of how you think you have all the answers but don’t.”
“If Josh put you up to this, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell him to butt out. Making us come to the wedding was one thing, but he’s out of his jurisdiction here. He can’t assign us this much trash work.”
A slow smile spread across Gerard’s face, making Harley realize she spent so much time avoiding looking at this man that she’d never really noticed his mouth before. Wide, full lips. Straight white teeth. A hint of a dimple in his left cheek.
Then, in a move she was too distracted to see coming, he looped his fingers around her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. He brushed those lips against her palm, a warm press of skin against skin that sent a sizzle straight up her arm.
“Josh has nothing to do with this. I don’t consider dancing with a beautiful woman trash work.”
They were putting on a show for the whole table and Harley wished she had her gun. Unfortunately, it remained in the trunk of her car where she’d left it, but if she’d been armed, she’d have drawn and told him to let go. While she might not be as clean a shot left-handed, she was just as fast.
“Forget it, Gerard,” she resorted to a verbal protest, which didn’t have nearly the same impact. “This isn’t my thing.”
“What’s not your thing?” With his mouth still brushing her palm, he leaned close and whispered, “The bartender will serve bottled beer if you ask nicely.”
Now here was the Mac Gerard she knew and didn’t love. Exhaling a breath that should have dispelled all those tingly feelings, Harley said more firmly, “I do not dance.”
“You took me to the mat in defense training yesterday. Not an easy thing to do since I outweigh you by a hundred pounds. Trust me, you can dance.” Then with that iron grip still clamped around her wrist, he dragged her out of her chair.
Short of causing a scene, there was nothing to do except be tugged onto the dance floor. With his broad shoulders and long strides, Gerard cleared a path through the couples. He moved effortlessly for such a big man, then drew her around to face him. Holding her hand in a death grip, he dropped his other to her waist, drawing her too close for comfort.
“It’s easy. Just loosen up and trust me.”
Trust him? Right. He was breaking rules here, forcing her to deal with him in a way they hadn’t dealt with each other before. And it didn’t help that the band played a slow song, which meant he tucked her so close she could feel each shift and flex of muscle as he led her through some slow steps.
“See, Harley, you move fine.”
Moving just fine would have meant heading back to the table. Or better yet, New Orleans. Being forced to stand in his arms while her body reacted to their closeness—no matter how hard she willed it otherwise—was just plain torture.
She could deal with Gerard being an idiot, but she couldn’t deal with being attracted to him. This chemistry sweeping through her, this rush of awareness so strong she half expected to feel wind whip around them, shouldn’t be happening. Worse yet, she wasn’t the only one feeling it. Gerard’s gaze grew smoky, a look that hinted at moon-soaked nights and sex.
This was ridiculous. They really couldn’t stand each other. The man went out of his way at work to challenge her. His ego had a rough time dealing with the fact that she—a woman who hadn’t had the benefit of his privileged upbringing—had more experience on the job than he did. This blue-blooded man who was used to his pedigree paving his way.
“I don’t like dancing with you,” she said.
“I do. You feel nice.”
To emphasize his point, he tightened his arm enough to tilt her off balance and press their thighs together. She had no choice but to arch against him and neither his slacks nor her gown did a damned thing to shield her from his hard muscles smothering her. Every nerve ending ignited with the contact, tempting her with an awareness so intense that she’d never felt the like, that she didn’t want to feel.
“Knock it off,” she muttered. “Or I’ll drop you right here.”
“You might have gotten me yesterday, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a sure thing.”
“The only thing saving you is that you’re not worth losing my job over. Josh will have something to say if we cause a scene.” She tried to put some distance between them, but he only tugged her closer. “You’re holding me too close, Gerard. We look like we’re doing something obscene.”
“We’re dancing. And I enjoy being close to you without having to block any punches.”
Resting his cheek on the top of her head, he fell silent, leaving Harley to guess what he was trying to pull. “Why this sudden crush to hold me?”
“This is much more fun than you trying to kick my head off.” His clear eyes flashed, a look that emphasized their closeness. “I want to explore our chemistry. It’s become a fantasy of mine.”
Harley’s mouth popped open and it took Gerard’s flashing dimple to bring her to her senses. “You’re kidding?”
He shook his head.
“If you’re trying to freak me out because you know I’m unarmed, you’re doing a good job.”
“A compliment. That’s a first.” He guided her away from a couple dancing within earshot. “And I don’t trust that you’re unarmed. Knowing you, there’s a weapon hidden somewhere—”
“Which I couldn’t reach without flashing the room.”
He let his eyes flutter shut and inhaled deeply. “Now there’s an image to keep me awake at night. I want to see you naked, Harley. That’s another fantasy of mine.”
“You’re really pushing it—”
“Refreshing to see you two engaged in something other than combat for a change.” Josh’s voice filtered through the moment with the impact of a cooling rain on a summer day.
They swirled around to find him dancing with a smiling Lennon. Harley didn’t smile back. She managed to squeeze a little breathing room between her and Gerard while letting Lennon know with a narrowed gaze that she disliked the seating arrangements.
“We promised to play nice for the day,” Gerard said.
Harley didn’t offer reassurances. Josh believed in actions over words and she wasn’t someone who liked to waste her breath. She’d play nice as long as Gerard didn’t do anything stupid—no guarantee with all his talk of fantasies.
“Getting away from the office is a good thing,” Lennon said, daring Harley to disagree.
Harley didn’t reply to that. Not with Josh peering down at his wife with one of those expressions, a look that wouldn’t change even if Lennon turned blue and started gibbering in an incomprehensible alien tongue.
Harley had witnessed this phenomenon firsthand more than once, a phenomenon that never failed to take her by surprise. She’d watched Josh draw down on a gang, without blinking, to extract information on a missing kid, yet he softened around the edges whenever he gazed at his wife.
“Don’t harass her, Mac,” Josh said. “Or she won’t make it through the reception without drawing her gun.”
Gerard laughed as Josh danced Lennon away. “He thinks you’re armed, too.”
“Keep harassing me, and you’ll find out.”
With undisguised amusement, Gerard leaned into her, forcing her into a dip. She had no choice but to bend or fall on her butt in this tight dress.
“I’d rather be dancing and holding you close.” Looking down at her, eyes smoky with promise, he pressed his thigh between hers, so she had to hang on to keep her balance.
Heat pooled deep inside and she fought the impulse to ride against that hard muscle, feed the ache awakening inside her.
“Gerard,” she growled.
He held her for another beat, two, just long enough to prove he had the control, a petty power play that convinced her he was very aware of how she reacted to him. And he made his point loud and clear when he lifted her out of the dip and brought her against him so hard she gasped.
His body enveloped her as he moved her around in the dance, his strong arms too solid, his hips anchored against her much too close for decency. They swayed together so erotically that she imagined they must look like two lovers who needed a room.
She knew he wanted to provoke her and she refused, absolutely refused, to give in to an almost overwhelming desire to fling him off her and knock him on his ass for good measure.
“The pulse jumping in your throat is very attractive,” he said, and to her utter horror, he lowered his mouth to her skin.
Flames licked in the wake of his touch, making her insides tremble with excitement. Damn man. Damn dress. And she’d even questioned the low cut of the neckline.
“Just stop it,” she said, and Gerard smiled.
“I’m not harassing you. I’m being honest.”
It took a moment to manage her breathing and find her voice. “Honest? You expect me to believe this three-hundred-and-sixty-degree change of attitude isn’t anything but harassment?”
“I would understand you feeling that way, except for the fact that we kissed.”
“It wasn’t a real kiss, Gerard. It was being here at the plantation. That ridiculous murder-mystery corporate training. All that rich food and stupidity about pirates falling in love. We got…caught up. Let me remind you we agreed to forget that inexplicable lapse of impulse control ever happened.”
“You suggested. I never agreed. I liked kissing you.”
He might have been smiling, but there was nothing amused about his expression. His jaw set in a hard line, his gaze as no-nonsense as she’d ever seen it. The man wasn’t lying and that realization came at her sideways.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you, Harley. You’re haunting my dreams.”
“Get over it.”
“Come at this from a purely pragmatic standpoint.” He ground against her, enough to share the growing erection he hid inside his expensive suit. “We’re attracted to each other. Ignoring the way we feel isn’t working. Our feelings are interfering with our jobs.”
The instinct to deny his claim hit her hard, but Harley didn’t do denial. No matter how much she might want to. She was attracted to him, and everyone within a twenty-mile radius of Eastman Investigations knew they didn’t get along. Josh had even set up the teamwork training session exclusively to help them work together as a team.
“It was one stupid kiss!” she said.
“It was one awesome kiss.”
“Did Lennon put you up to this?”
He lifted a silky dark brow as if daring her to think anyone could possibly make him do something he didn’t want to do. Well, no argument there as she’d had daily proof.
“We need to work through these feelings, Harley, so we can get on with our lives. It’s the only thing to do.”
She would have disabused him of that notion, but he chose that exact moment to bend her back over his arm again when the music slowed to a bluesy tune. Her heart countered by mimicking the tempo with lazy, aching beats.
“We need to explore this attraction to get it out of our systems,” he said. “We need to have a fling.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“No. I want you, me, in bed, naked.” His smoky gaze raked over her face as intimately as a caress.
“Just because you want something doesn’t mean it will become reality.” She arched upward, desperate to get away.
He wouldn’t let her go.
Short of throwing him off balance and causing a scene, she had no recourse but to wait until he decided to pull her out of the dip, which didn’t look like it would happen anytime soon. “Forget the damn kiss, Gerard. End of discussion.”
“Let me sweep you off your feet. You’ll like it.”
Unfortunately, she might, and Harley couldn’t live with herself if she did. “Who do you think you are, Prince Charming?”
“You won’t be able to resist me.”
She could only marvel at the man’s arrogance, and his luck. He was beyond lucky that she wasn’t armed. She honestly didn’t know if she could have controlled herself.
“I will resist, trust me. You aren’t Prince Charming and I’m not Cinderella. If I were, you’d turn back into a mouse and this ball would be over.”
“Hello, Ms. Price, Mackenzie,” a deep male voice said. “Enjoying yourselves?”
They both glanced around to find Gerard’s grandfather and his bright-eyed dance partner, Quinevere McDarby.
Gerard had the grace to pull her out of the dip and she sucked in an audible breath that made Miss Q, as she liked to be called, smile.
“Of course they’re enjoying themselves, Stuart,” she said. “If you could just see yourselves, my dears, you look as if you were made to be together.”
As Lennon’s great-aunt and Josh’s great-aunt-in-law, Miss Q had diplomatic immunity from Harley’s opinion. But Gerard, unfortunately, never knew when to keep his mouth shut.
