Page 48 of Fake Christmas Date Cowboy

“I didn’t even get to show you my moves.”

“The one where you ground your dick into me?”

“Okay, that was less than gentlemanly but goddammit, that ex of yours has me wanting to claim you.”

Her jaw dropped. “I am no prize to be claimed, Declan.”

“No, you’re not a prize. You’re a fucking treasure, Belle. Now please…” He sliced his hand through his hair. “Will you just come back inside with me and give me one dance?”

Chest heaving, she stared at him for interminable heartbeats. “Fine! But only because it’s freezing!”

Gently, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her back inside. “Watch your step on this hardwood. Your shoes will be slippery.”

Without protest, she allowed him to lead her to the dance area again. This time when he took her in his arms, she wasn’t nearly as stiff and robotic.

He stared at her mouth, plump and swollen from being plundered. What the hell had come over him to capture her mouth like he fucking owned it?

Maybe it’s because I would kill for this woman.

The thought hit out of nowhere. It punched the air from his lungs so he had to struggle to fill them again.

Meanwhile, they swirled around the floor. Once he got his breath back, he pressed his palm into her lower back and drew her a step closer. When he took the lead and began revolving around the space like it was a ballroom, she stole a peek at his face.

“I’m going to fall on my face.”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“You won’t have any choice, Declan. Anything that could go wrong with me does. I’ll probably trip and fall on my face and break my nose. Or my orbital bone. I heard that hurts so much worse…”

He pitched his voice low. “I promise I won’t let that happen.”

He trapped her gaze in his—and tumbled even deeper. This woman…Christ, was it just the magic of Christmas making it hard for him to breathe or do anything but think about her?

No. It fucking wasn’t.

He took her by the hand and spun her in a circle before tugging her against his chest again.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re someone important?” she asked.

“Why do you say that?” Now she was onto something. If she could only guess at his role here on the Wynton Ranch, it would make things so much easier.

“Most guys can’t dance like you.”

He cocked a brow. “Most women can’t follow like you do. But you’re not even following. You already know what to do. Why do I get the feeling thatyou’resomeone important?”

She arched a perfect brow in response. “Nope…I’m just Belle.”

They twirled through a bunch of couples who stepped back and applauded them.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” she asked.

“My father was in the military. My mom and I were home alone a lot. So she taught me to dance.”

Her lashes dipped over her blazing eyes. “You’re close to your mother?”

His lips quirked. “I’m a self-proclaimed momma’s boy and proud of it.”

ChapterTwelve

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