“After the first charity function I attended, I realized I’d better master ballroom dancing.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You took lessons?”
He shook his head. “I watched and analyzed.”
Her smile almost brought him to his knees. “Of course. That’s how you do everything, isn’t it? You watch and learn.”
“You do the same thing,” he noted as they executed another perfect glide around the capsule.
They were at the very top of the wheel now, the sight of London spread out in a dizzying panorama before them. Or maybe it was simply that the feel of her in his arms made his brain fuzzy.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to face the truth. But with Lyssa in his arms, there could be no more hiding from the fact that he’d noticed her all along. Noticed her skill at work, her ability with people, her sweetness, her confidence, her willingness to do anything he asked. She soaked up knowledge and responsibility like a sponge. He’d noticed how beautiful she was at Matt and Ari’s wedding. If he was honest, he hadn’t truly taken his eyes off her since then.
That was the real reason for Daniel’s evil eye. Daniel must have suspected what was really going on inside Cal’s head, even when Cal refused to admit it to himself.
Just then, Lyssa missed a step, and when she stumbled, he held her tighter, full against his body.
The voice inside his head—the one warning him to take a step away from her, rather than toward her—had been right. He never should have taken her in his arms, never let the waiter dim the lights, never given her champagne, never watched her lips move as she devoured the appetizers, never danced with her to a song that would always make him think of her from this day forward. If he’d been thinking straight, he would have seen the temptation in bringing her to the London Eye, where nothing could possibly remain “just business” up high in the night sky. Especially when she was wearing a dress that hugged her curves and hinted at the gorgeous skin beneath. Hell, if he could do it all over, he wouldn’t have taken her on this trip and shared a suite with her at all.
He respected her brains and her wondrous ability to bring the people they worked with on board their team. But now, he also had to admit how beautiful she was. How good she smelled.
And how damned perfect she felt in his arms.
He was drunk on her smile, on her laughter, on the feel of her skin. Drunk on her hypnotic scent.
There had never been a woman he’d wanted more than he wanted her in this moment.
Yet there had never been a woman more off-limits than Lyssa Spencer.
* * *
God, dancing with him felt good. Lyssa had danced with Cal at the wedding. But those had been fun and flirty dances.
This was so much more. Her hand on his shoulder, his muscles beneath her fingertips—he was so incredibly sexy. For a few moments, it didn’t matter that he was so much older than she, that he was her boss, that he was a close friend of her brothers. All that mattered was breathing in his scent while they floated around the dance floor in each other’s arms.
The scrumptious food, the delicious champagne, the beautiful music, the magical city lights far below them was the fairy tale.
And she was dancing with the handsome prince.
The song ended before she was ready to let him go. When he drew away, she had the oddest urge to hang on, when she’d never been a clingy woman before.
“One more dance?” she asked as the quartet began to play another classic song she loved.
She saw the hesitation on his face, the slight frown on his brow, the downward curve of his mouth, and her spirits started to plummet. But then, as if he’d been debating with himself and had lost the argument, he pulled her close again and twirled her around the floor.
Lyssa gave herself up to the romance of the night and the feel of Cal’s arms around her.
* * *
They danced the night away. Or rather, until nine o’clock, when the lack of sleep, the champagne, the rich food, and all the dancing had Lyssa drooping on her feet. Cal had reserved the capsule for two hours, and as they came to rest at the bottom, the timing was perfect to head back to the hotel and get some sleep. Lyssa thanked the waiter and the musicians profusely. Then Cal flagged down a cab and bundled her into the back.
She laid her head against the seat. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, though her eyes were already closed. Her profile was exquisite as the city lights flashed through the window. “Best night ever.”
“It was a very good night,” he agreed, even as he worked like hell to shove away an extremely sexy vision of giving her a spectacular night in their hotel room.
As it was, holding her in his arms while they danced had been exquisite torture. He’d wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, tip her head back, and kiss her until she moaned. Hell, right here in the back of the cab, he could still feel the imprint of her body against his. How soft. How sweet. How warm. How perfect.
Her breathing slowed and steadied as she fell asleep. He took in the delicate slope of her nose, the smoothness of her high cheekbones, the brush of her long lashes, and he swore there would never be another night like the one they’d just shared. He couldn’t risk it. Not when holding her in his arms made it nearly impossible to remember that she was the Mavericks’ younger sister, that she was his employee. And that he was much too old for her. Not when he still ached with the need to touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste the sweetness of her lips.
Lyssa is untouchable. No other woman in the history of the world has been more off-limits. And he damned well better remember that.
As the cabbie took a turn, she shifted closer to him, mesmerizing him with her sweet scent as she instinctively curled up against him in sleep. With her soft body so temptingly near, Cal realized just how much trouble he was in.
One twirl around the dance floor, one breath of her, one forbidden night dancing above the London skyline was all it had taken to condemn him to a future full of unquenchable, unrequited desire for this exquisite woman he could never have.
The taxi pulled up in front of the hotel, the attendant rushing to open their door. As Cal paid the cabbie, Lyssa’s eyelids fluttered open.
“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” she said dreamily.
“Just for a few moments.”
He backed out of the cab, letting the hotel attendant help her. He could never put his hands on Lyssa Spencer again. Not when he was afraid his control would crumble at the barest touch.
The hotel lobby was brightly lit, filled with couples in evening dress heading out for a late dinner or a show or dancing. The elevator emptied, and he somehow managed to usher Lyssa inside without touching her. A mirrored hotel wall reflected her beauty, her sweetness. Along with his utter fascination with her.
Her lids half closed, she leaned against the wall and glanced at her watch. “Right on time. I’ll be in bed just after nine.”
“Sleep in tomorrow,” he said, even as he tried not to think about how good it would be to crawl into bed beside her, inside her. “We don’t meet with Dane Harrington until eleven.”
At their floor, he felt like carrying her in his arms over the threshold of their room. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“Thank you again,” she murmured. “You’re too good to me.”