The Client: Short And Steamy by M. S. Parker Page B

lastplace I should be.
    But there was something between people like Carrie and Gavin, Krissy and DeVon – and now Dena and Arik – that was too intimate to simply sit and watch. That deep sort of connection was more than just affection, and it made me uncomfortable to witness. Some things were too private.
    “Leslie, you’re looking lovely tonight.”
    I swung my head around and smiled at Gavin, careful not to let anything I was thinking or feeling show on my face. Carrie had seen something. I could still see it in her eyes, but even if some part of me might have wanted to share with her, I wasn’t about to do it with Gavin here.
    Besides, what was I going to say?
    It just dawned on me that I’m feeling kinda…
    I didn’t let myself finish that thought. If I didn’t finish it, then I didn’t have to deal with it.
    Sometimes, the only way to deal with things was to not deal with things.
    “And you’re looking very…” I paused as I slid my eyes between him and Carrie. “Married.”
    He chuckled as he slid his arm around her waist. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    “Do that,” I said sincerely. And I did mean it that way. They looked wonderful together.
    The server appeared at my side with my drink, and I accepted with a smile before looking toward the railing. Restlessness burned inside me, but I couldn’t just up and walk away.
    I was saved from further questions, though, when one of the men from the club's security team appeared at Gavin's side and bent his head to murmur in Gavin’s ear. Gavin nodded and touched Carrie’s arm. “We’re needed.”
    Carrie gave me an apologetic smile and I waved her off. “Go. I want to dance anyway.”
    “I’ll try to find you later.”
    “Please don’t.” I wagged my brows. “I’m hoping to be busy.”
    She laughed as Gavin took her hand. A moment later, they were gone, and I took my drink over to the railing. From the corner of my eye, I could see the man who’d been eying me finish his drink as the woman across the table from him abruptly stood up and stormed off.
    The skin between my shoulder blades crawled, letting me know he was still watching me. Shit. I really didn't want to deal with some creep tonight. I kept my gaze locked on the dancers below me. Tossing back my drink, I pushed back from the railing and saw the creep dropping a few bills on the table. He slid a look my way, followed by a slow smile. I ignored him as I gave my empty glass to the server and headed for the stairs.
    Time to exit stage left.
    He caught up with me just a few feet from the stairs. I couldn't say I was surprised. Irritated, yes. But not surprised. I knew his type.
    “Are you heading out already? He gave me a quick, charming smile. “I was just coming to ask if I could buy you a drink.”
    “I'm not thirsty.” Keeping my voice cool, I cut around him. He wasn’t so easily dissuaded, though.
    I had one foot on the steps leading down to the lower level when he joined me.
    “A dance, then, perhaps?”
    Instead of answering right away, I continued my way down the stairs, and on the landing between the levels, I moved over to the railing and tipped my head back to look up at him. His precisely styled hair didn’t move at all as he dipped his head to meet my eyes.
    “No dance,” I said levelly. “No drink. You’re not my type.”
    His lids flickered a bit at that and a muscle tightened in his jaw. He hadn't liked that. He recovered quickly, though, flashing me a smile that was without a doubt one of the best I’d ever seen.
    It did absolutely nothing for me.
    “Oh, come on…I bet I can prove you wrong. A drink…” He traced a fingertip down my cheek. “A dance. I bet we could have a lot of…fun.”
    Deliberately I stepped away from him, working to control my temper. While I didn't believe in stereotyping, my own red curls and hot-headedness didn't go far to dispelling that particular myth.
    I made my voice icy. “Somehow, I really doubt that.”
    I pushed