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His blue eyes flared with excitement, as he delivered a wink only I could see. Then he dipped me low…

… and gave me the hottest, most incredible open-mouthed kiss of my life.

Four

ANDREA

It was one of those moments in your life where time stopped. Where everything around you just slowed to a crawl, stretching out the next few precious seconds so you could really enjoy them.

Kissing this new stranger was just like that.

A gasp of shock and surprise escaped me, one that quickly devolved into a moan as his lips forced mine apart with near-infinite slowness. His tongue slipped into my mouth. For some reason I accepted it eagerly, tasting the sweetness as I swirled mine instinctively against his.

What in the worl—

His hands moved like they owned me. One slid its way down from my back, cupping my ass to pull me more firmly against him. The other moved to my face, touching it lightly. Caressing it with the backs of his fingers, as his lips rolled softly against mine.

Most of all though, I could feel an underlying strength and power. I was being held by two musclebound arms. My body crushed deliciously against this hard, beautiful chest. And he had a presence about him too. Not just a charisma, either — lots of guys had that. No, there was something dangerous about this man. Which was odd, considering how impeccably he was dressed, and how disarming his smile.

“Sweetheart,” my white knight said cheerfully, and in a distinct American accent. “Did you want to introduce me to your friend?”

He glared intentionally down at where my ex-boss was still grasping my wrist. The man’s arm shot back like I was giving him an electric shock.

“I… Uh…”

It was amusing, watching him stumble in confusion. He was so damned sure of himself a second ago.

“You what?”

“I thought…” His eyes shifted to me for help. Recognition dawned, and they narrowed again. “I could’ve sworn you worked for me.”

“Worked for you?” my savior repeated incredulously. He barked a short, acrid laugh. “This woman is my fiancé!”

The last word was edged with an intentional defiance and anger. At the same time, his right hand slipped over my left, to hide where an engagement ring should be. I squeezed his thumb in my palm, to indicate I understood.

“I—I’m terribly sorry, then

,” the white haired-man apologized.

“You’d better be.”

The man melted backward, into the crowd. Still holding my hand, my new paramour turned me so that my back was to him.

“Is he still looking?” he asked, without breaking his phony smile.

“Yes.”

“Then you’d better kiss me again.”

I didn’t hesitate for a second. Whoever this man was, he’d rescued me. And he somehow knew he was rescuing me, which was all the more perplexing.

Our second kiss went on even longer than the first, and that was just fine with me. He was heartbreakingly gorgeous, with strong, angular features and just the right amount of stubble. He smelled like leather and musk, with a hint of cologne. And something else, too. Something I couldn’t nail down.

Our kiss was in danger of turning into a make-out session when the music started up again. A slow waltz began playing, by the string quartet over his shoulder. He began leading. I began following…

“So who exactly are you,” I finally asked. I was feeling a little woozy now. It could’ve been from the empty champagne glass still dangling from my hand, but somehow I doubted it.

“I guess,” he said, plucking the glass away and placing it on a nearby server’s tray. “I’m your white knight.”