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more trembled through her hand.
    “You don’t have to stay if this is uncomfortable.” The thoughtful words were nearly her undoing. Kindness edged in warmth and the steel of stubbornness transformed his concession to a far more provocative comfort.
    “You are very kind.”
    “Far from it. But I don’t want you frightened or forced.” His words caressed her soul. “Share a drink with me or not. It’s entirely up to you.”
    “Not entirely.” The words slipped free of the jesses of good judgment.
    “No? You were ordered to come out here?” Displeasure tightened his mouth. Was that displeasure pointed at her? At the need to force her? Or that someone had done so?
    “Hardly. I am compelled to perform, but they cannot make me visit with the audience if I do not choose to.”
    “So you chose to join me.” The grooves around his mouth deepened with the pleasure kindling in his voice. Hot, smooth butterscotch coated in dark chocolate.
    “Yes.”
    “Then I am even more grateful for the attention.” His hand continued to cradle hers, smoothing caresses over the flesh between her thumb and forefinger.
    The silence that stretched between them wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Jeannie found herself at a loss for what to say. She wanted him to keep talking.
    But about what? How do people do it now? How do I ask him to keep talking? Do I ask him about him? His family? His work? Do I have to wait a proper length of acquaintance for such personal information?
    “What do you want to know?” His words intruded into the checklist playing out in her mind.
    “Did you read my mind?” Her heart chilled at the thought.
    “Not at all. But your expression was far easier to read. You’re nervous. You’re uncertain. You seem to want to stay here and share the drink. But you don’t know what to do. Right?” Malcolm made it sound so simple.
    “Yes. How did you do that then?” Curiosity kicked apprehension aside.
    Malcolm chuckled. He picked up his glass and watched her expectantly until she took a drink of her own iced water. The drink bathed her aching throat, and she took another swallow gratefully. He watched approvingly, drinking some of his own, but never releasing her hand.
    “I’m an attorney. I spend much of my time assessing my clients and the opposition. The body rarely lies, no matter what the mouth is saying.” His gaze dipped to her body briefly, a physical caress, before tracing a line of heat back to her eyes.
    “Are you a good attorney?” Anticipation unfurled, slowly, a sail hungry for a hot breeze.
    “It depends on how you define ‘good’, but I protect what’s mine and I win more than I lose.”
    The breeze blew hard and hot, ballooning excitement inside her breast. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”
    “Business.” Malcolm nodded once, but his lips quirked into a teasing smile. “Now ask me if I will be staying for business or pleasure.”
    “Would you be offended if I hope for business?”
    “Oh?” The ice clinked in his glass as he took another swallow. “Why is that?”
    She squeezed the words past her throat before it could close up. “Because I need your help.”

Chapter Four
    “I need your help.” The whisper of sound drizzled like honeyed gold from Jeannie’s lips.
    “I beg your pardon?” Malcolm lowered the heavy crystal glass and studied the lush beauty across from him. He drank in her features. Her gilded skin glistened in the flickering of the candle’s flame. Pale hair, the color of pure flax, fell like a snowfall across golden shoulders revealed by the white silken top.
    “Your help.” She repeated the words. “As an attorney.” Her eyes sparkled, hope-drenched intelligence kindled within them.
    Suspicion. Curiosity. Desire. A potent cocktail of slippery, smooth fire rolled through his veins. She would taste of light and dark rums, rich brandy and lime. His teeth ached inside his gums.
    “What do you need?” Malcolm hated to ask the