The woman in his arms, however, definitely was. Unfortunately, Corey couldn’t even remember her name.
Catrina? Tina? Trina! At least, he thought that was it. He admittedly hadn’t been paying much attention when she’d introduced herself earlier. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of their conversation, having been thoroughly captivated by the sexy bridesmaid in the frosty blue gown.
The one who claimed she wasn’t interested.
His gaze drifted across the room to where Erin stood with a glass of champagne in her hand, and his gaze locked with hers again.
And he knew that, although she might feign disinterest, the look in her eyes contradicted her words.
So what was the story there? Why was she pretending to be immune to the chemistry between them?
After meeting her at the rehearsal the night before, he’d made some discreet inquiries and learned that she didn’t have a steady boyfriend. In fact, by all accounts, she hadn’t dated anyone since moving to Thunder Canyon a few months earlier. Which made him wonder if she’d made the move because she needed to get away from someone who had broken her heart.
The thought was strangely unsettling. He didn’t even know her, so he didn’t understand why he would feel protective of her. But there was something that had struck him from the first—maybe it was the hint of vulnerability in those deep-blue eyes, or the wistfulness in her smile, or maybe it was just the feeling, irrational though he knew it was, that Erin was the woman he’d been waiting for.
He smiled at the thought, recognizing it as not just irrational but ridiculous in light of the fact that he couldn’t even get her to agree to dance with him. Then again, Corey had never been one to back down from a challenge.
More and more couples were joining those already on the dance floor and soon the space was so crowded with bodies that he lost sight of her. When the song finally ended and he released Trina, she pouted prettily.
“Are you really going to let me go so soon?”
“Yes, I am, darlin’,” he told her, but softened the rejection with a smile.
She tucked something into his pocket. “My number—in case you change your mind.”
Because his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, he didn’t tell her that he’d had her number from the start, but he also didn’t give her another thought as he walked away.
He was too busy searching the crowd for a certain blue-eyed girl in a familiar blue dress.
Chapter Two
Erin had let down her guard. It was the only excuse she had for being caught so unaware. But when Corey had followed Trina onto the dance floor, Erin had been certain her coworker would keep him thoroughly occupied. She hadn’t expected that he would walk away from an obviously willing woman and come looking for her.
But she’d barely started to nibble on the hors d’oeuvres she’d put on her plate when he lowered himself into the empty chair beside her. She popped a coconut shrimp in her mouth, slowly chewing then swallowing.
“I believe you owe me a dance,” he said, choosing a stuffed mushroom from her plate.
She lifted a brow. “Do I?”
“At the very least.”
“Why don’t I share my dinner and we’ll call it even?” she suggested.
He grinned, and she felt the now-familiar weakness in her knees again. “I’ll get you some more mushrooms as long as I get the dance.”
She nudged her plate toward him. “I’m really not that hungry.”
“What are you afraid of?” He bit into a petite quiche.
“That you’ll stomp all over my toes with your cowboy boots.”
She’d meant to insult him, hoped the affront would dissuade him. Instead, he laughed.
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” he told her. “My previous dance partner was barely limping when she walked away.”
“She was plastered so close, you wouldn’t have been able to step on her toes if you tried.”
Too late she realized what she’d said—that her response proved that she’d watched him with Trina.
Corey’s smile confirmed that he’d caught her slip, but thankfully, he didn’t call her on it.
“What do you say?” he prompted.
Erin knew that to refuse again would only succeed in making a big deal out of something that shouldn’t be. After all, it was just a dance.
So she took the hand he offered and let him lead her away from the table. Though her heart was hammering furiously against her ribs, she decided that there really wasn’t any danger in spending time with Corey on a crowded dance floor.
The minute he put his arms around her, she realized she was wrong. Because every fiber of her being was acutely aware of his nearness and every nerve ending in her body was suddenly humming.
She should have guessed that he’d be a good dancer. Contrary to her earlier teasing remark that she feared for her feet, he moved smoothly and confidently around the dance floor. No doubt he knew all the right moves in any situation, but despite that warning to herself, it required no effort on Erin’s part to follow his lead, nor was it a hardship to be held in his arms.
She saw Erika and Dillon dance by and was grateful for the distraction. “They look so perfect together,” she murmured.
“I’ve never seen my brother so happy,” Corey admitted to her. “It almost makes me forgive him for pulling up stakes and moving to Montana.”
She tipped her head back. “Almost?”
He shrugged. “A Texan is always a Texan, regardless of where he parks his horse.”
The mental image of a horse tethered outside of the medical clinic made her lips curve.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered. Her breath caught.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he told her.
Immediately, her smile faded.
“Why do I make you so nervous?”
She couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell him that it was her own response to him that made him nervous. Instead, she said, “Because I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Right now, just a dance.”
“And later?”
His smile was slow and filled with sensual promise. “Why don’t we figure that out later?”
“If you’re looking for a good time while you’re in Thunder Canyon, you should be looking in Trina’s direction,” she told him.
“You don’t think we could have a good time together, darlin’?” The challenge was issued in that same lazy tone that skimmed over her like a caress.
“I’m sure we could,” she replied honestly. “But I’m not the type of woman to go home with a smooth-talking stranger.”
He pulled her closer so that her thighs were aligned with his. They were more swaying than dancing now, and the light brushes of his body against hers felt disturbingly like foreplay.
“I’m hardly a stranger,” he said.
“I just met you yesterday.”
“And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since then.”
She wasn’t entirely sure she could trust what he was saying. Because while he sounded sincere and the look in his eyes