The room began to get warmer still and he loosened his tie. A flush stole up his face and he felt a little light-headed. He was definitely getting a buzz. Well, good. He didn’t want to be here anyway. Might as well enjoy himself.

Halfway through his next drink, he felt a smooth hand close over his arm. He jumped and champagne splashed down the front of his jacket and shirt. Kat’s long fingers dug into the muscles beneath his sleeve. Her eyes were dark with rage, her full lips clenched in fury. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

He shook off her arm. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“No?” She arched an eyebrow in a sexy gesture that scared him spitless. “Mmm. We’ll see.”

He finished his drink to spite her, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her face changed into a soft smile and her eyes caught the reflection of the chandelier, sparkling up at him. With an innocent grin, she linked her fingers through his. “Dance with me, Zach.”

Zach, despite the friendly cobwebs in his mind, smelled trouble. “I…I don’t dance.”

“Sure you do. It’s easy.”

“But I can’t-”

She leaned closer to him, put her lips against his ear. “People are staring. Come on.”

His throat was suddenly desert-dry. “Katherine, I really don’t want to-” But she was right. He felt the burning weight of the gazes of curious onlookers. He wanted to die. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jason staring at him, his expression unreadable. Trisha was downing champagne and God-only-knew what else. She smiled drunkenly at Zach’s discomfiture. Witt, his father, was still dancing with little London and too busy to notice that Zach was trapped.

“Really, Katherine. I don’t want to-”