Australian Millionaires. Maxine Sullivan

his face in her hair. There was none of the finesse Brant had exhibited earlier when he’d taken her in his arms. This was pure adolescent male, hungry for sex, and all the better with a woman he fancied.

      Slightly alarmed—and hearing his pals’ whistles over the slow music—she put her hands against his chest and forced some distance between them. “Danny, I—”

      “Don’t talk, babe.” He went to pull her back into position.

      She held firm against him. “Dan-ny …” The tone of her voice must have gotten through to him, because the hold on her hips slackened. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him, pleased to see some of the alcoholic glaze disappear from his eyes.

      He gave her a self-conscious grin. “Sorry, Kia. I guess you went to my head.”

      She relaxed with a smile, finding his boyishness easier to handle. “I think the drink had more to do with it than me.”

      He shrugged wryly. “Yeah, well, I’m not used to drinking rum.”

      Kia suspected he wasn’t used to drinking at all. “I once got drunk on brandy and was sick for a full week.”

      “You got drunk? No foolin’?”

      “I was young once, too, you know,” she joked, even while her heart cramped with pain at the reason she’d been drinking. It had been the day her father had married his second wife. He hadn’t wanted his “plain-looking” daughter at the wedding—or that’s what he’d been telling her mother when Kia had accidentally picked up the telephone to make a call.

      She’d been crushed by his rejection, though at fifteen she should have been used to his insensitivity. Afterward she’d feigned ignorance when her mother had gently explained about her father’s remarriage. She had then gone out and gotten rotten drunk at a friend’s party, learning the hard way that drinking didn’t solve a thing.

      “I hope you won’t spread that around?” she said now, pushing aside her painful memories to smile up at Danny.

      “Er …” His eyes darted to his friends at the table behind them, then back to her. “Sorry. What did you say?”

      Someone yelled out, “Yea, Danny,” but she pretended not to notice. They were only having fun. “I said I hope you won’t tell anyone that I once got drunk. I have a reputation to uphold,” she teased.

      His gaze went beyond her again, seemed to hesitate. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled her up close once more. “I won’t say anything,” he said as if whispering sweet nothings in her ear. “I promise, babe.”

      He was obviously more concerned with his own reputation than hers, so it was silly to feel a flutter of apprehension just because he wanted to show off for his friends. He was really just a kid who’d had too much to drink.

      Should she wait until the music stopped, then go back to her table? Or go now? The room was full of people. Surely nothing would happen to her in the middle of the dance floor….

      She jumped when he began to nuzzle her neck. Okay, no way could she let this go any further. “Danny, I—”

      “Let the lady go,” a deep male voice said beside them, startling them both, the warning in Brant’s voice clearly evident.

      Danny shoved himself away from Kia, a slightly belligerent look on his face until he caught sight of who’d spoken. His cheeks began to turn red as he looked at Brant’s thunderous expression. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

      “I know exactly what you were doing, Daniel.” Brant jerked his head at the table behind them. “I suggest you go back to your table before I decide to tell Mr. Reid what you were trying to do with his PA.”

      Danny looked horrified. “I was just fooling around, Mr. Matthews—promise,” he said, then scurried away, obviously terrified he would lose his job.

      Kia couldn’t help but feel sorry for the young man. Brant could be a formidable figure when he chose to be, though why he chose to throw his weight around now was anybody’s guess.

      She winced inwardly. That wasn’t quite true. She knew exactly why he wanted Danny away from her. But before she could think further, Brant swept her into his arms and began to lead her around the dance floor. His touch was impersonal enough, so why did she feel acutely aware of him and his sexual power over her?

      Angry with herself for her reaction, she shot him a look that would make a lesser man stumble. “You didn’t need to frighten him like that.”

      “Yes, I did.”

      And she saw that deep down he did. It fit his dangerous persona. The predator who never gave up his prey without a fight. All very subliminal, yet it was there, hidden beneath his civilized exterior. God, was she the only one who saw it? Who felt it? She must be.

      She swallowed a lump of apprehension. “You had no right to interfere.”

      His grip tightened. “I had every right. Philip would expect me to protect his … fiancée.”

      She ignored another insulting pause. “Danny’s just a boy. He was having some fun, that’s all.”

      A cynical smile immediately twisted his lips. “He’s a young man who was almost having his way with you right there on the floor.” He shrugged. “But, hey, if that’s how you get your kicks, then maybe—”

      “Shut up, Brant.”

      For a moment it was hard to tell who was the more surprised, but then a satisfied light came into his blue eyes. “Hurrah! She said my name.”

      Kia found herself exchanging a subtle look of amusement with him. Okay, so he’d won that small victory. She could allow him that, seeing he really had saved her from a possibly unpleasant situation.

      “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll talk to Danny on Monday,” he said. “For now, it’ll do him good to stew over the weekend. He needs to learn a lesson about not making a move on the boss’s woman.”

      Which boss? she wanted to ask, a tingle running down her spine at the thought of being Brant’s woman. She grimaced. One of Brant’s women. “Thank you.”

      There was a moment’s pause, then, “So congratulations are in order,” he said in a harsh voice that suddenly matched his eyes.

      Unable to bring herself to say yes, she merely nodded.

      “I’m surprised,” he continued. “Most women couldn’t have kept it a secret.”

      “I’m not most women.”

      “True.” But it didn’t sound like a compliment. His burning gaze slid down the column of her throat, to the necklace, and rested there for a moment. “Diamonds look good on you,” he said almost as if he disliked her for it. “Another expensive gift from Phillip?”

      “Another?”

      “As well as the Porsche.”

      Good grief. Did he think Phillip had bought the car for her? She felt her cheeks redden. “Phillip did not give me the Porsche.”

      His eyes flickered with surprise. “But he gave you the necklace, right?” His expression darkened, grew stormy. “He’s generous to a fault.”

      The way he said it was as if Phillip was generous and she was at fault. For a moment she wondered what she’d ever done to this man—apart from not hopping into bed with him.

      As for the necklace, how could she tell him she was giving it back to Phillip? He’d have to ask why. So let him think what he liked. He did anyway.

      After that, he seemed to sense her withdrawal, because he remained quiet while they danced around the floor. Kia fought hard to concentrate on being angry with him, but the music was growing insistent, bringing his body against her own, each