Playing to Win

have something to hide.”
    Again the wariness crossed her face before she carefully shuttered it behind a smile. “I’m just not an egomaniac like some people.”
    “That was subtle.” He turned her around as the tempo increased.
    “I’m never subtle.”
    “Then tell me what’s on your mind.”
    Her gaze was direct. “You wanted me to stay because you think you can get me into bed.”
    He arched a brow. “And?”
    “Not a chance.”
    That made him smile. “You want to know what I think?”
    “Would it matter if I didn’t?”
    “Probably not.”
    He caught the slight curve of her lips. “Then go right ahead.”
    “I think not only do you have secrets, but you’re sexually repressed. That’s why you have this job helping other people. Focus on someone else so you don’t have to deal with your own issues—whatever the hell they are.”
    She let out a soft laugh. “I can guarantee you I’m not sexually repressed. I know exactly what to do with a man in the bedroom, and am given multiple opportunities to do so. But thank you for offering to save me, Cole. Unfortunately, I’m in no need of saving.”
    She started to pull away, but he held her tight. “I’m not throwing you a line, Savannah. I’m attracted to you. And I know you’re attracted to me. What I want to know is why you fight so hard to deny what’s between us.”
    “Because we work together. A line has to be drawn.”
    But she hadn’t denied the attraction. That was progress.
    She pulled away again, and this time he loosened his hold on her.
    “You’re leaving me on the dance floor again?” he teased.
    She paused, then slipped her hand in his. “Walk off with me. Let’s go to the bar and get a drink.”
    He went with her to the bar. She ordered a glass of champagne, while he ordered a whiskey. She perched on one of the bar stools while he leaned against the bar.
    “You’ve met my family. Tell me about yours.”
    She sipped her champagne, staring out over the dance floor. “Not much to tell. I had a very unremarkable childhood.”
    There was a lot she wasn’t saying in that statement. “No brothers or sisters?”
    “No. Just me.”
    “How about aunts and uncles or grandparents.”
    “None of those, either.”
    “So…what? You’re an orphan?”
    “No.” She finally looked at him. “It was just my mother and me.”
    “Oh. Did your dad die?”
    “I have no idea. I never knew him.”
    “Ouch. I’m sorry, Peaches.”
    She shrugged. “Don’t be. You can’t miss something you never had. I managed just fine without him.”
    “Still, I imagine it was hard to grow up without one of your parents.”
    “I have no idea. Like I said, I never had him so it wasn’t like I missed him or anything.”
    “So your mom pitched in and did double duty?”
    She looked away, and it was clear her mind wasn’t on the present anymore. “Something like that.”
    She downed the contents of her glass of champagne in two swallows, then slid off the bar stool. “Now I really do need to go. Good night, Cole.”
    He wasn’t going to let her get away. He’d dug open this wound and it was up to him to close it. He caught up to her.
    “Wait.”
    She stopped, looked up. “What now?”
    He winced at the raw pain in her eyes. “Let’s take a walk out back. You just poured down a pretty hefty glass of champagne. How about you let that settle before you drive?”
    She paused, then nodded. “Fair enough. I do need to clear my head a little.”
    He grabbed a bottle of water on the way out the back door.
    The gardens were nice, with a path fringed by overhangingtrees and bushes lining the sides. There was a waterfall at the end of the path, lit up by twinkling lights above. Romantic, he supposed, but what he liked about it was the privacy. And even better, no one was out here, so he tucked her arm in his and they took a leisurely stroll. A breeze had kicked up, obliterating the hellish heat that had blanketed the city during the day. They could at least breathe without the humidity suffocating them.
    She wasn’t talking, so he let her simmer in silence for a few minutes while they walked the path.
    “I don’t need you to handle me.”
    He paused, turned to her. “Isn’t that your job?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “I’m taking a beautiful woman who’s upset for a walk. You’re the one who handles people.”
    She rubbed her temple. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
    “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have pried into your