“I don’t like it.”

“Really?” she drawled. “And your opinion counts why?”

Reed didn’t have a good answer for that. “What about your brothers?”

“What about them?”

Reed’s glance darted to Travis again, finding him absorbed in a conversation with two other men. “Do they know?”

“You mean, do they know…” she made a show of glancing surreptitiously around the dance floor then lowered her voice to a stage whisper “…about my wicked little ballroom-dancing secret?”

A surge of jealousy hit Reed at the thought of her other dance partners. Giving into impulse, he stepped through the patio door, spinning her outside, away from the crowd.

“Hey,” she protested.

But instead of stopping, he let their momentum carry them along the fieldstone wall. He came to a halt beside a square stone pillar, his forearm tightening across the small of her back, the darkness closing around them to give privacy.

She gasped in a breath, lips parting, eyes wide.

He gave her half a second to say no, then swooped in for a kiss. He came down harder than he’d intended, openmouthed, tongue invading, greedily savoring the sweet, moist heat of her mouth.

After a startled second, she tipped her head back, welcoming him, her tongue tangling with his. Her spine arched, and her hips pressed against the steel of his thighs. Her arms twined around his neck, and his free hand closed over her rear, the thin fabric of her dress all but disappearing in his imagination.

“Are you naked under this?” he rasped, kissing her neck, her shoulder, brushing a spaghetti strap out of the way to taste her tender skin.

“Are you naked under that?” she asked in return, tone teasing, her hands slipping beneath his jacket to wrap around him, branding him through the cotton of his shirt.

“Yes,” he hissed, then resumed the kiss that went on and on, pushing want and need into every fiber of his body. His world contracted to Katrina, her taste, her feel, her scent. His hands roamed, while his lips savored, and her lithe body imprinted itself on his skin.