Frowning, she slipped her phone back into her jeans and wondered what the hell was taking Pretty Boy so long. Even though she now knew his name, she suspected the nickname wouldn’t disappear anytime soon from her thoughts.

Not that she’d be thinking about him or anything.

She rounded the doorway of the kitchen in time to see Shane turning out the bathroom light and striding up the short hallway toward her.

Guy had to be over six feet tall. And man, he moved in ways that made her curious about things she had no business being curious about. Like what someone so gentle and so kind and so mind-bogglingly sexy would be like in bed . . .

Heat immediately flooded her cheeks, the curse of her pale skin. At the same time, her stomach went on a roller-coaster ride. The thought of trying to be with someone else after what’d happened to her was like free-falling off the edge of a cliff—freeing and terrifying at the same time.

Shane lifted a single eyebrow, and it was like he knew she found him attractive. He was probably used to women throwing themselves at him, pretty as he was. His gaze trailed a quick but unmistakable path up and down her body, and she felt it like a physical caress. Her nipples pebbled under the thin cotton T-shirt, and arousal stirred through her blood in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe not ever.

And then he was right in front of her.

She wanted to retreat. She wanted to press herself against all that hard, male heat.

“So, what is it you want?” she asked instead, anxiety making the words come out more harshly than she’d intended.

Eyes like liquid silver, he stared at her so intently, she would’ve sworn he could see right into her soul. Then he shook his head, stepped to the bookshelf under the TV, and flicked a series of buttons on the stereo. Not so loud that it should disturb Jenna, a sexy, soulful song filled the air around them. “Do you like to dance, Crystal?” he asked in a low voice.

“Uh, what? Why?”

His smile was crooked, playful. “ ’Cause dancing’s something people do when they’re getting to know each other.”

“Really?” Maybe where he was from. Then again, she worked in a strip club. Dancing was something people did to make money. So, okay, maybe her view of dancing was a bit jaded.

“Absolutely. Ask anybody.” The song faded away, followed by the announcement of a Southern rock station’s call sign. A new song started, and Shane turned to her with a smile. “Dance with me.”

Crystal peered up at him without the slightest idea how to respond. Because her body was saying hell, yes!, while her brain was screaming bad idea, really, really bad idea.

He stepped closer, arms raised, expression full of all kinds of invitation.

The next thing she knew, her right hand was in his and her left had slipped around his neck. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, ran over and over in her mind. What am I doing?

But then he tucked her hand against his chest and tugged her against him with the hand that settled at her lower back. And the closeness stole her breath.

He moved them to the beat of the song, a slow, sexy, bluesy number she didn’t know but would never forget. Some songs carried memories like the images were imprinted upon the very lyrics themselves, and she had no doubt this would be one of them.

All of a sudden, the air in the room felt ten degrees warmer. As they swayed to the beat, Shane’s body pressed against hers from thighs to chest. With every step and move and turn, Crystal’s breasts rubbed against the hard plane of his chest. Strong hands held and guided her body, making her want to feel them explore her everywhere. Arousal rose like a waking dragon inside her. Cautious. Curious. Dangerous.

This was wrong and stupid on so many levels. But, scary as it was, it felt so freaking good that she couldn’t force herself to pull away.

One song. It’s just a dance. Just a dance just a dance just a dance.

And, holy crap, she wasn’t the only one aroused.

Against her belly, Shane hardened.

Crystal sucked in a breath, and he pressed his lips close to her ear. “We’re just dancing here. That’s all. I promise,” he said.

But the adrenaline was already in her blood, setting her to a trembling she couldn’t control. Part curious interest and part instinctive fear.

“Sshh,” he almost cooed. “Just dancing.”

The echo of her own thoughts from a moment before allowed her to draw a breath that almost calmed. They turned and swayed to the music, moving closer, pressing tighter, Shane’s lips so close to her face that she could feel his breath shudder across her cheekbone.

He was a fire she had no business playing with. She knew that even as she leaned her face against his . . . and got exactly what she’d hoped for.

He kissed her.

Just a brush of his lips against her cheek, but a kiss all the same.

And as much as it made her head spin, it was the little catch of breath in the back of his throat that sent a jolt of electricity down her spine to settle low in her belly. Light as a feather, he caressed her cheek, her temple, her ear with his lips. With him, always such gentleness, so different from almost every other sexual experience she’d ever had. It made her feel safe to allow this to continue.

Between them, his erection was firm, long, totally unyielding. She shivered, caught between interest and fear, desire a river moving faster and faster inside her. The whole experience was a revelation—that her body had the capacity to respond this way, that a person existed who could pull these reactions from her.

For a moment, she gave herself over to the dizzying sensations. In her mind’s eye, she saw them undressing, fumbling their way back the hall, falling naked and wanting on the bed. What would it be like, just once, to take something that she wanted without worrying about anyone else, without being afraid? Just one wild, secret night, all for her? What would Shane be like?

The way the room started spinning around her made it clear Crystal wasn’t really up to finding that out. Not that it mattered. Because it would never happen anyway.

Crystal had been so deep into Shane, she didn’t hear the song ending. The moment of silence before the next song began captured her awareness, made her realize what she’d been doing—what she’d been wanting to do—and she gasped and jerked her face away from Shane’s worshipful lips.

“I know I can’t stay,” he said as if reading her mind. “Just give me one more song.”

That was two songs more than she should’ve ever agreed to. She knew it. But that didn’t stop her from nodding yes as the next song, a harder, faster, rock song with a driving beat, filled the room around them.

SHANE WAS WELL aware he was wandering off the reservation, but damnit all to hell and back, Crystal was pushing every one of his buttons. Her soft, warm body pressed against his. Her hands held him tight. Her gaze was an open book, begging him to stay, pleading with him to kiss her again, but also making it clear that those desires scared the hell out of her.

No part of his plan had been about seducing her. He didn’t use sex to manipulate female informants. Ever. The music had been about blocking any listening devices that might’ve been planted in her apartment. And the dancing had been about getting them close enough to communicate despite the tunes.

It might’ve been an unnecessary precaution, but it didn’t seem too great a stretch to think that whoever she was afraid of, whoever had hit her, whoever had given her reason to believe that Shane would be willing to do that, too, might be controlling enough to keep tabs on her. Even in her home.

And, given that his bathroom visit had been a cover for planting a few bugs of his own—one in the handset of her bedroom landline, one on the molding above the bathroom door, and one just now on the side of the stereo blocked by a collection of picture frames—he had surveillance on the brain.

Except her touch, her heat, her closeness has chased his rational mind into a corner until all he could do was feel.

As Crystal swayed with him to the music, her fingers softly, maybe even unconsciously, stroking the skin of his neck, he felt like a total prick for violating her space that way. And none of the good rationales made that feeling go away. Not that she was their best lead for learning what was going on inside Confessions. Not that his gut told him she wouldn’t open up, at least not yet. Not that the devices might give him the ability to help Crystal and Jenna if some bad shit ever went down here.

In her beautiful, hesitant expression, he could see the war playing out inside her. To trust him or kick him to the curb. To push him away or pull him tighter. To accept his help or reinforce the fortress of walls she’d clearly built around her. And he knew those bugs were a risk.

In the final analysis, though, he’d done right by his team.

But that fact wasn’t doing near enough to stuff a sock in the piehole of his guilty conscience.

Unthinkingly, Shane pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. His mouth went dry, and he had to restrain the urge to taste her there. To taste her everywhere. Goddamn. “What’s your last name, Crystal?” he finally managed.

“What? Oh.” Pause. “Roberts. Crystal Roberts.”

Annnd there it was. The hesitation, the touch of perspiration on her hand, her pulse kicking up everywhere they touched. He didn’t know who Roberts was, but it wasn’t her. The lie didn’t surprise him one bit, though. Just meant he’d read her right.