“He wasn't by nature a man for slow dancing. Although he’d never thought consciously about it, the passivity and languor didn’t appeal to him. He was a man of action. Where should he put his hands? He knew where he wanted to put them, and given their surroundings, he knew that it wouldn't be frowned on, but he had the distinct impression that Sophie herself might frown upon it. So she wanted to slow-dance? All right. He held her, one arm around her lace-clad waist, the other crooked between thei...r torsos, laced with Sophie's slender fingers over his heart.She looked up at him with the embers of her smile still on her lips, and traces of trouble in her smoky, made up eyes. She was one of the least provocatively dressed women in the club, yet in his eyes the sexiest by a mile. Her mussed-up blonde hair tumbled around her face and her dark eye make up gave her the air of a sixties waif. He'd suggested the dress thinking that its coverage would offer her a little security in this unfamiliar environment, but he hadn't bargained on how it would look wrapped around her body.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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