He held out his arm. She automatically slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the strength of his ropy muscles evident through the supple fabric.

“You look very nice, too,” she returned the compliment.

“I feel like a penguin,” he grumbled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to move in one of these things?”

Katrina gestured to her slim-fitting dress. “As opposed to moving in this?”

“Nobody expects you to hop out of the car and change a tire.”

“You’re planning to change a tire tonight?”

“You never know what might happen.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that.

He took her hand and pressed it to his jacket pocket.

She felt a hard, rectangular lump against his hip. “What on earth?”

“Multitool,” he told her. “Knife, screwdriver, file, pliers.”

“You’re armed with a tool set?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll be in a ballroom,” she pointed out. “I expect there’s a maintenance crew. And the worst thing likely to happen tonight is a broken shoe buckle.”

They passed through the hotel exit to the sidewalk, where a lineup of shiny black SUVs waited for guests. She glanced around but didn’t spot her sisters and brothers.

“I can fix a broken shoe buckle,” said Reed. “I can also repair a harness, remove a splinter, whittle some kindling and fix an outboard motor.”

“I can’t do any of those things, with or without a multitool. Well, maybe remove a splinter,” she allowed. Then she glanced ruefully at the tiny clutch purse that contained nothing but the bare necessities. “But not with anything I brought along tonight.”

Reed opened the back door to one of the vehicles. “That’s the beauty of the system,” he told her, cupping his palm over her elbow to help her into the seat.

She glanced up questioningly.

He gave her a grin and a waggle of his brows. “You brought me. You don’t need anything else.”

“You’re a living, breathing multitool?” she guessed.

His eyes darkened ever so slightly, and his tone went low. “That I am.”

Had he just turned shoe-buckle repairs into a flirtation?

Before she could decide, he gently shut the door behind her, rounding the back of the vehicle to climb in the other side.

“To the Hospital Ball?” the driver asked Reed.

“Yes, please,” he answered, stretching his arm across the back of the seat.

The driver nodded and pulled the vehicle into traffic.

Reed angled his body so that he was gazing at Katrina. He didn’t say anything, just watched her while they made their way along Seventh Street toward Main.

She gazed back, meeting his eyes, strangely not feeling the need to break the silence. The moment stretched on, and she found herself remembering their kiss, his touch, his taste, the sound of his voice rumbling next to her ear and the woodsy scent of his skin.

“You going to be able to dance?” he asked gruffly, with a nod toward her left ankle.

“I think I can make it through a waltz or two,” she answered.

Progress was slow on her ankle. Then again, at least she was making progress. For the few days before she’d come back to Colorado, the healing had seemed to stall. She’d been terrified it would never get better, or it would take so long to get better that she’d lose her position with the ballet company.

A shiver ran through her at the unsettling thought.

“Save a dance for me?” Reed asked quietly, his eyes glinting silver.

“I will.” Katrina realized once again how safe she felt with Reed. There was nothing to worry about right now. Nothing was going to cause her any trouble tonight. Not even a flat tire.


As Reed would have expected, Katrina was the belle of the ball. Dinner had ended, but the dancing was not yet underway. So far, it had taken her nearly twenty minutes to make it halfway across the ballroom toward the ladies’ room. Men stopped her, clustered around her, asking questions, obviously offering compliments, lingering when they shook her hand, making excuses to touch her.

Reed downed a swallow of champagne, wishing he had something stronger to quench his thirst.

Travis Jacobs took the chair next to him, nudged his elbow, and offered him a single malt, neat, in a heavy crystal glass.

Reed gratefully accepted. “Thanks.”

Travis slouched back, propping his elbow on the opposite chair, his voice a drawl. “I see the way you’re looking at my sister.”

Reed took a swallow of the Scotch. “Same way every other guy in the room is looking at your sister. You don’t like it? Don’t let her dress like that.”

“You Terrells need to keep your hands off the Jacobs women.”

Reed gave a snort of derision. “Caleb’s marrying one of them, and I haven’t touched any of them.”

Kissing Katrina didn’t count. It was a well-accepted fact that touching in this context meant something considerably more than kissing.

Just then the orchestra came up and the lights went down. Reed and Travis both watched as yet another man approached Katrina. His gaze scanned her thoroughly from head to toe, then he stood far too close, his expression animated, his hand too familiar on her arm. Katrina took a step back, but the guy didn’t let her go.

Reed firmly set down his Scotch glass and came to his feet. “I assume dancing is acceptable,” he said to Travis, even as he moved away from the table.

“If it gets her out of that jerk’s clutches, go for it.”

Reed nodded in response, already pacing his way toward Katrina.

Once there, he snaked a proprietary arm around her slim waist. “Sweetheart,” he drawled, his hard glare causing the jerk to pull back as if he’d been scalded.

“Are you ready for that dance?” he continued, turning his attention fully onto Katrina, dismissing the other man with a cold shoulder.

The man withdrew, muttering something unintelligible.

A beat went past.

“Did you just rescue me?” Katrina asked in obvious amusement.

“Story of my life.”

“I was fine.”

“You didn’t look fine.” Reed knew he should remove his hand from her waist, but he left it there anyway.

“He was a little too friendly,” she admitted. “But I could have handled it.”

“You didn’t need to handle it. That’s why you brought me along, remember?”

She pivoted to look at him. “I thought you were only planning to fix shoe buckles and remove splinters.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her joke. “I also dance.”

“The two-step?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She cocked her head. “This is a waltz.”

Reed removed his arm from her waist, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “Then let’s waltz.”

He steered her toward the dance floor where the ensemble was playing a classic ballad. There, he drew her into his arms, and his entire body seemed to sigh in satisfaction as she settled against him.

She was fluid and graceful, light on her feet, sensitive to his slightest nuance. He tucked her more closely to his body, his hand coming in contact with the bare skin revealed by the plunging V at the back of her dress. Her soft skin was so distracting that he struggled for something coherent to say.

“You’re a very good dancer,” he opened.

There was a smile in her voice when she answered. “Thank you. I’ve had a few lessons.”

He gave a sheepish grin in return. “I guess you have.”

“But it was nice of you to notice,” she continued with what sounded like sincerity. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“High-school gym class,” he admitted. It wasn’t something he’d done frequently since then, but when he did, he always enjoyed it.

The lights dimmed further, and the band switched songs to another famous fifties cover tune. Reed saw no reason to let her go, so he let one song blend into the next, keeping her snugly in his arms.

They silently wound their way toward a set of doors that were open to a wide veranda. It was darker at this end of the ballroom, the music was lower and a cool breeze wafted in from the riverbank. She molded closer against him.

“Cold?” he whispered, gathering her tight, even as he turned so that his body was blocking the breeze.

“I’m fine,” she answered into his chest.

Reed was fine, too. In fact, he was a whole lot better than fine. He wished that time would stop, that the world would fall away and leave him here alone with Katrina.

But then he caught sight of Travis far across the room, closely watching their every move. And he knew the world wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Not that Reed blamed Katrina’s brother for worrying. Reed definitely shouldn’t be trusted with her.

“You go to things like this in New York City?” he found himself asking, curious and wondering how safe she’d be with neither of her brothers around to run interference.

Did she dress this provocatively for functions in New York? It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly she had on underneath the clingy satin dress.

“Things like what?” she asked, voice slightly dreamy.

“Dances, charity functions.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “We’re contractually obligated to make public appearances. It’s good for contributions to have recognizable performers attend Liberty Ballet fundraisers.”

Reed didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s compulsory? What if you don’t want to go?”

She tipped her chin to look up at him. “It’s my job.”

Reed’s spine stiffened. “It’s your job to dance with random men?”

“Random men with a lot of money to contribute.”

“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?”