He wanted to touch Bella. Badly. They’d spent over an hour sharing a leisurely dinner and he’d enjoyed talking to her, getting to know the reticent woman behind the man-killer façade. Bella Jackson was a lot more innocent than she’d ever admit to being, he’d bet. She was also sexy. And if he didn’t get her in his arms soon, he was going to start hallucinating from the strain. A live band played near an empty dance floor in the center of the restaurant. He stood up and put his hand out. “Dance with me.” She took his hand, but she didn’t get up. She looked past him, a slight frown marring her features. “But no one else is.” “So?” “I…” Her gaze lifted to his and she bit her lip. “Don’t tell me you’d be embarrassed?” Being a public spectacle was life as she knew it for this woman. “You parade down a stage in front of hundreds of people with less covering than a lot of women wear to bed.” “That’s different.” She tugged at her hand, looking put out with him.
