Page 5 of Degrees of Control

He was beyond intimidating.

Just as Charlie contemplated faking a heart attack, Hayley made a calculated re-appearance. Her hair was wild around her scalp as she staggered up, either pretending to be wasted or perhaps just genuinely drunk. She threw her arms around Sophia. “Sophiaaaaaa! Pretty lady! Come dance with me!”

Sophia feigned a short protest and allowed herself to be dragged away. James watched them go, an amused look on his perfect face. Charlie wanted to seize her friends by the neck and shake them. That was their sophisticated seduction plan? The bait and switch? She’d uttered all of two words to James and those two words were ‘Hey, James.’ What kind of an introduction was that?

James Hunter eyed her flatly as he uncapped a fresh beer with an easy flick of his wrist. It was a telling, masculine trait that made Charlie’s skin feel too tight. He was clearly waiting for her to say something, todosomething, but her mouth felt like it had been shot full of Novocain. He continued to stare at her for a long moment before turning away, obviously returning to the conversation she and Sophia had interrupted. Charlie’s chest ached as she retreated, she moved through the crowd, her body feeling as thick and slow as if she were underwater. What would Sophia say when she found out she’d been rejected? And more importantly, which of the thirty-six remaining guys would she be expected to throw herself at next?

Big, warm fingers grasped her left wrist.

“Hey, slow down there, darlin’.”

The hand urged Charlie around and she found herself struck by those fucking eyes again. They were looking right at her, unmistakable interest burning in their greenish depths.

Hope detonated in Charlie’s stomach like a bomb.He’d followed her.“Can I um, help you?”

James let go of her wrist and lifted the glass of whiskey in his other hand. “Turned to offer you a drink and you were gone.”

Bet he’s got a massive dick, Charlie’s mind whispered evilly.

“Uh, thanks, but whiskey’s a little strong for me.” Actually, vanilla extract was too strong for her, but coming out and saying ‘I don’t drink’ tended to make people suspicious. James shrugged and raised the tumbler to his mouth, draining the glass in an instant. Their eyes met again, but this time James’ gaze dragged down her body so slowly she could have sworn physical sensation was involved. The silk clinging to her skin suddenly felt heavy, the atmosphere around her ten degrees hotter. The ball of seduction, as surreal as it seemed, was rolling and she knew all she had to do was ride it to the end.

He’s a human being, Bell, just like you. Pretend he’s a yoga student. An incredibly tall, stupidly handsome yoga student.

Charlie relaxed her posture and kept her gaze steady, not focusing on any one of James Hunter’s features, lest she be dazzled and rendered useless again. “Must be a southern thing, you Texans can really drink,” she said in a tone she hoped was more flirtatious than accusatory.

“That we can. Where’s that accent from?”

“Guess?”

Most Americans thought Australians sounded like Crocodile Dundee. It was endearing to hear them take in her metropolitan Melbourne accent and presume she was British. James gave her another blistering once-over. “Australian.”

Charlie was impressed. “Nice. I didn’t even mention kangaroos or g’day or anything.”

For the first time since she’d laid eyes on him, James smiled, a slight tilt of his lips that softened his stern features into something even more devastating. Charlie felt a pleasurable squirm of approval and mentally slapped herself.

Rein it in, Joan Rivers, you’re here to fuck this guy not work your “Amusing Aussie” routine.

Her modus operandi regarding alpha males had always been to act dismissive and funny, to conceal her real-life attraction and lapse into fantasy when she was alone. Now she was so close to something terrifyingly real and she was Daleing, unwilling to take the leap into the unknown with this big hot stranger.

Let it happen, take the risk, be the girl you want to be.

Dismissing every doubt in her head, Charlie looked up from underneath her eyelashes and let all the desirability she had radiate outward with her smile. “I think your accent has the advantage.”

James eyed her with amusement, as if he knew exactly what she was about to say. “Is that so?”

“Of course, out of all the American accents, Southern is universally agreed to be the sexiest.”

With a lopsided smirk that almost stopped her heart, James leaned in close, his scent hitting her like a two-ton truck, warm and earthy and fundamentally male. “Is that right, darlin’?”

Jesus H Christ. Drawing on all of her remaining willpower, Charlie reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton pulled taut over muscle and bone.

“I think so, cowboy.”

Oh shit, she hadn’t meant to call him that. But that’s exactly what he reminded her of, a sexy, out-of-this-era gunslinger, somehow standing in front of her wearing Levis and a cotton T-shirt. James didn’t seem thrown off by her horrific flirting. On the contrary, he gave her another lazy smirk and held out his hand. “Come dance with me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command and one that made every hair on her body stand on end. Charlie took a deep breath and placed her hand in his, triumph beating hot and fast in her chest.

Chapter 2

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