Fortune's Valentine Bride Read online

  “And didn’t you tell me that you used his belief that you were going to fail to make you work twice as hard, just because you wanted to prove him wrong and show him that you could handle whatever he threw at you?”

  “You listen to everything I tell you?” He’d already said it once, but now he was completely floored by the realization that there was someone who actually did take in what he was saying. Not once in a while, but apparently all the time. It made him feel good.

  “Pretty much,” Katie replied with a dismissive nod. It was time to get this portion of the program underway, she thought. A ripple of anticipation undulated through her. “Okay, we’re going to begin your first lesson right now.”

  “Now? Here?” Blake looked around. “Don’t we need more room or at least to roll up the rug before we get started?” he asked. The makeshift office he’d set up was good enough to use temporarily, but it wasn’t exactly spacious. Not like his office back in Atlanta. If they practiced here, they’d be bumping into furniture constantly.

  “Scott and Christina are going to be out all morning,” she told him. She’d already thought to check with Christina regarding their schedule for the day. “We can use the family room. It lets out onto the veranda.” And she imagined them dancing across both.

  “And music,” Blake quickly pointed out, raising another obstacle, one that he hoped provided more of a deterrent than the cramped quarters. He really didn’t want to do this, even though he had to admit that she had a point. A lot of women did like to go dancing. “We need music, right?”

  “Absolutely,” she agreed.

  He should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it. Katie was opening her briefcase and taking out her iPod. She paused to hook it up to a deceptively small, metallic blue speaker.

  Sensing he was watching her every move, she flashed Blake a triumphant smile. “Luckily, I came prepared. I have ballroom music on here,” she told him, holding the small device aloft. “Tango, waltz, it’s all here.”

  “You’re kidding,” he cried incredulously. It wasn’t that he wasn’t familiar with the capabilities of the gadget she had in her hand—he hadn’t been living under a rock these last few years—it was just that he was surprised that her device contained something so tame, so classic as ballroom music.

  Rather than refute him, Katie merely turned on the iPod, now hooked up to the single round speaker. One of Strauss’s classical waltzes filled the air. He looked from the player to Katie. The woman was an endless source of surprises, he concluded.

  “You always carry that around?” he wanted to know.

  “My iPod? Yes. The speaker? No,” she told him casually. “But I had a hunch you might need to at least brush up on some of your dance steps, so I put together a playlist on here for you,” she confessed, holding up the iPod.

  He’d been right to ask her help, he thought. The woman was exceedingly thorough and always seemed to manage to be ten steps ahead of him. He had a tendency to hang back if he felt uncomfortable about something and obviously, Katie had no qualms about kicking him in his complacency.

  This was exactly what he needed.

  Still, he didn’t really like looking like a fool, even around an old friend who had never exhibited a judgmental moment in her life.

  “Like I said,” he murmured, “you really are one of a kind, Katie Wallace.”

  This time, Katie looked him squarely in the eye. “You’re stalling.”

  He laughed. There was just no putting anything over on her. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  “I noticed,” she informed him matter-of-factly. I notice everything you do, everything you say. I notice everything about you. “Let’s go to the family room,” she urged, leading the way. Blake had taken her on a quick tour of the house when she’d gotten here yesterday. She retained things like a human DVR, he couldn’t help thinking.

  Once she’d reached the family room, she quickly set up her iPod and hit the playlist she’d put together for him just last night.

  “I thought we’d start out slow,” she told him when the waltz filled the air. “All right, I’m sure you know this part,” she said, positioning herself.

  When Blake did as she told him to, Katie could have sworn she felt a warm shiver skittering up her spine, despite the fact that she was wearing very sensible clothes rather than the backless evening dress she imagined Brittany would be wearing for such an occasion.

  She’d temporarily forgotten this part, Katie realized. That he would actually be touching her if they were going to get this dancing lesson underway. Every single time he touched her, she had the same reaction: a warmth would spontaneously ignite within her, sending out beams of light all through her like a winter bonfire on the beach.

  Focus, Katie, focus, she ordered sternly. She couldn’t allow herself to dissolve into a puddle. She had to get through this, had to act as if she was seriously going through the motions of teaching him to dance.

  So that he could “seduce” Brittany, an inner voice taunted her.

  “That’s right,” she said, as his hand slid around her waist, her mouth momentarily growing very dry. “Now take my left hand in your right one.”

  Though he was considered suave and charming, when he was out of his element as he as with these lessons, Blake felt that he bore a distinct resemblance to a lumbering bear.

  “Like this?”

  She smiled her approval. “Like that. Can’t really mess that part up, seeing as how we both come with only one set of left and right hands,” she teased.

  He noticed that she seemed spunkier somehow and thought to himself that he rather liked this version of her. But then, he knew, there was nothing about Katie to dislike, at least he’d never encountered anything that had set him off.

  “No, this part’s easy,” he contradicted, and then, in all fairness, he issued her a warning. “It’s when I start stepping all over your feet that things are going to get rough.”

  “You are not going to step on my feet,” Katie said firmly.

  He raised one dark eyebrow as he regarded her. “You know something I don’t?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes catching him. “I know that you’re Blake Fortune and you can do absolutely anything you set your mind to,” she told him, repeating the mantra she’d professed to believe earlier. Blake could be exceedingly stubborn when he wanted to be.

  He sighed, prepared to give it his all—and hope that it was enough. “I wish I had as much faith in me as you seem to.”

  “No ‘seem to’ about it,” she corrected with just the right touch of feeling. “I do.” Well, now that he knew how to stand and what to do with his hands, it was time to let the games begin. She began to dance, but for the most part, Blake just stood there, his feet sealed in place. “All right,” she urged, “now let the music talk to you.”

  He listened closer, but it was still the same. “There’re no words,” he protested.

  “There don’t have to be,” she told him, then instructed, “Feel it.” He looked at her a little blankly, so she elaborated. “Feel the rhythm, let it seep into your bones, into your system,” she urged softly.

  And then, strictly for his benefit, she began counting off the steps between repetitive movements.

  At first, he was concentrating so hard, listening to her counting and trying to follow each of her movements, that he didn’t realize just how close her body was to his.

  And then it dawned on him that he could actually feel every movement she made. The motions echoed against his body, urging him to mimic what was happening. And then the warmth began to sink in. Really sink in.

  He felt the warmth of her body against his—or was that his against hers? He wasn’t sure who was causing what. All he knew was that the end result was he could fee
l the heat, both from without and from within.

  He caught himself looking at her. Really looking at her. And then he stumbled, stepping on her foot and the moment, he knew, was broken. As perhaps, quite possibly, was her foot.

  “Sorry,” he apologized as she stopped dancing for a second and paused to try to feel her toes. “I tried to warn you,” he said defensively, looking very chagrined beneath the bravado. “I told you I wasn’t any good at this.”

  “You can’t expect to be perfect the first time out,” she told him. She took a deep breath, willing the radiating pain in her foot to scale back so that she could continue. The last thing she wanted to do was hobble in front of him. That would definitely sideline him for the duration and that was not the plan. “Actually,” she went on warmly, “you’re doing a lot better than I thought you would at this point.”

  “Really?” he asked incredulously. It was clear from his tone that he thought he was doing rather poorly.

  She nodded. He looked like a kid who’d just built his first soapbox racer, she thought. A huge wave of affection washed over her as she regarded Blake.

  “Really,” she told him. She could feel him slowing down, could see by the look in his eye what he was about to do—or not do—next. “Now, don’t stop dancing,” she urged with feeling. “That’s the secret, no matter what happens on the floor—unless the iceberg hits, just keep on dancing until the song’s over.”

  “Iceberg?” he questioned. And then, belatedly, he recognized the reference. “Oh. Right.”

  Her eyes were smiling at him as she said, “Right.”

  Maybe it was the music, or her encouragement. Or the fact that he felt as if he was finally getting the hang of this dancing thing, but Blake could feel a level of enthusiasm building within him. Enthusiasm and something more. Something…stirring for lack of a better word.

  He supposed that it was just the simple fact that he was moving around an imaginary dance floor with a soft and supple body less than a half breath away from his. If he wasn’t careful, things might begin happening that he didn’t want happening. After all, he wasn’t exactly made of stone and as for Katie, well, he’d be the first to admit—although not to her or to Wendy—that she was damn attractive. If he wasn’t so consumed with winning back Brittany…

  But he was consumed, he reminded himself. And Katie was just here to help him with that campaign. She’d probably be upset if she knew what he was thinking right now, he told himself.

  With more effort than he thought it would take, Blake bank down thinking altogether and just focused on dancing, nothing more.

  By the end of their first full “work” day, Katie felt rather triumphant. During the course of that time, she had taught Blake the fundamentals of several dances.

  For the last one, when he looked at her mystified after she’d verbally run through the steps his feet were supposed to be taking, she’d placed his hands on her hips and then deliberately exaggerated their movement in time to the music. His eyes widened and as he continued looking at her, she could feel her own heart melting. Was he surprised that she’d become so brazen, or was there something else going through his mind? For the life of her, she couldn’t tell.

  Initially, her objective for doing what she just had was to help Blake absorb the rhythm so that he could begin to at least try to master this dance of lovers. However, she had a nervous feeling that she was the one getting trapped within her own web.

  She just wasn’t good at this, wasn’t good at pretending she was some sort of a seductress. She was just a woman in love with a man who had held her heart captive ever since they’d been kids.

  Blake knew Katie was just trying to help, but there was definitely something happening here besides his attempt to learn the steps of a dance that really had no place in his life. With his hands on her hips like this, he could feel their seductive sway and it was telegraphing itself throughout his entire body.

  For just a split second, thoughts of sweeping Brittany off her feet slipped far into the background—so far that they were all but invisible. In the foreground was this new, troubling reaction he was having to his sister’s best friend, to his marketing assistant—to a woman he had known almost as long as he had known himself.

  This wasn’t right. And yet, it was oddly tantalizing. He knew he should move his hands, mumble something about “getting it,” and return to safer territory. But he let them keep dancing and let himself—just for this moment—continue the unexpected journey he suddenly found himself on.

  How could he not hear her heart beating? Katie wondered. It was almost deafening. Feeling his palms spread out over her hips as she continued to move them in what could only be blatantly described as an open invitation was having one hell of a profound effect on her. She could feel every inch of her body reacting. Despite the throbbing music, time had suddenly and literally stood still for her.

  Stood still while she found herself about an inch away from him. An inch away from his warm breath swirling along her throat and her face. An inch away from his mouth as he inclined his head ever so closer to her. Whether he was going to say something or had no idea that he’d reduced the space between them to nothingness, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that being so close to him like this and not doing anything about it was become harder and harder for her.

  Her heart was hammering so hard she was having trouble catching her breath. All she wanted to do was kiss him. Just touch her lips to his and taste them.

  Just once.

  But she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t make the first move and if he chose not to make it, then there was no way she was going to allow herself to become embarrassed by taking the lead when he clearly wouldn’t want her to.

  Damn it, why aren’t you kissing me? Can’t you feel this? Can’t you feel the electricity?

  She struggled to regain control over herself. You can do this, Katie. If you pass out at his feet, you’re going to have to hand in your resignation, you know that. So get a grip!

  As Katie fought to center herself, she realized that she was also gripping Blake’s shoulders for all she was worth. When he drew back his head to look into her eyes, she could see that he knew something was wrong.

  Or, at the very least, that something was different.

  Chapter Six

  He forgot to measure.

  The old adage, “Measure twice, cut once,” the mantra of tailors, construction workers and exceedingly careful people who strove to avoid errors, had also been Blake’s rule of thumb to a great extent. Because he worked for his father and knew that any mistakes he might inadvertently make would be greatly magnified in John Michael’s eyes, Blake wound up applying the rule to every facet of his life. Which only seemed appropriate since most of his life of late was spent in the office.

  But this time around he forgot to measure. He forgot to allow caution to guide him and had, for all intents and purposes, thrown that very caution to the proverbial winds and had gone, instead, with basic gut instincts.

  One second he and Katie were trapped in a moment, mystified by the electricity crackling between them as seductive music played in the background, and the next, well, the next he’d brought his mouth down on hers and was kissing her.

  Kissing Katie, not Brittany’s stand-in, as he’d been regarding Katie all afternoon while they’d danced. Or rather, while she danced. As for him, he’d just shuffled and moved his feet, trying not to trip or pitch forward and embarrass himself. But during that entire—and at times rather awkward—time, he’d regarded Katie as just a placeholder for the woman he really wanted to hold in his arms. The woman he really wanted to sweep off her feet.

  Brittany.

  But the woman he caught himself kissing wasn’t Brittany’s stand-in. He had been drawn to Katie, was kissing Katie because he couldn’t rescue himself from the
swirling curiosity, a need, that had suddenly risen up, urging him on.

  And the worst of it was, kissing Katie satisfied nothing. It certainly didn’t put his curiosity to rest. Instead, it just seemed to feed some insatiable craving within him. An all-consuming craving he shouldn’t have felt for so many reasons that it would have taken him the better part of an hour just to list them.

  Any second now, Blake told himself. Any second now he would step back and end this. Step back from Katie and into what this was all supposed to be about—a detailed campaign to win back the woman of his dreams.

  But since he was already kissing Katie, he gave himself permission to continue this small aberration a few seconds longer.

  After all, what were a few seconds in the ultimate scheme of things? They were so insignificantly minuscule, they didn’t even register.

  They didn’t even—

  They didn’t—

  Pulling Katie even closer to him, so close that he was in danger of merging with her very essence, Blake lost the train of his thought and then just gave up trying to think altogether.

  Oh God.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  It had finally happened, Katie realized in a panic. She had finally cracked under the pressure of her own desire and was now hallucinating. She had to be hallucinating because this just couldn’t be happening.

  Oh, she’d wished it to happen, and ordinarily, wishing didn’t make something so. But somehow, this time around, she’d cracked and fallen headfirst down the rabbit hole where dreams became reality.

  Except, that just did not happen. Not in her orderly world.

  And yet, here she was, kissing Blake, losing herself in Blake. And dreams had become a reality.

  Her body felt as if it was on fire as she rose up on her toes, absorbing every inch of heat emanating from his rock-hard torso. What thoughts she had were rolling about in her head like so many scattered marbles, turning here and there with no rhyme or reason to their movements.