Sex, Lies and the CEO. Barbara Dunlop

along back there. I don’t know anything about wine.”

      She realized she’d have to continue sleuthing as soon as possible. But, for now, it seemed best to see this particular charade through to the end.

      There was a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Okay.” He pulled out one of the chairs. “Then have a seat.”

      She did as he asked, and he leaned down as he pushed in the chair.

      “We’ll stick with New World,” he said, his voice close to her ear.

      She found herself inhaling his fresh scent.

      “No point in making you a snob if you’re not one already. Pinot noir to start. Then a merlot, cabernet sauvignon and shiraz.”

      “Four bottles of wine?” Was he joking? “I’ll get blasted.”

      He rose. “We’re not going to polish off the bottles.”

      Of course they weren’t. She’d sounded ridiculously unsophisticated. She tried to backtrack. “I only meant tastings usually work better with more people.”

      “They do,” he said. “Want me to go find some?”

      She didn’t. And that was worrisome. She shouldn’t want to stay here alone with Shane. But she did.

      His hand gently brushed her shoulder, and the tone of his voice turned intimate. “Me, neither.”

      Uh-oh.

      Before she could formulate a reply, he was gone, moving along the wine racks, perusing the bottles.

      She angled her body and watched him from the chair, noting his concentration and the intelligence in his expression as he scrutinized the labels. She’d read he was six feet two. He was obviously in excellent shape. He carried the designer suit with ease across his square shoulders. She could imagine his stomach was washboard hard. She’d already had a chance to feel his biceps.

      She knew she couldn’t afford to notice, because she couldn’t afford any kind of a distraction. But there was no getting around it, Shane Colborn was one sexy package of a man. And it seemed she was as susceptible as the next Chicago woman to his looks and his charm.

      * * *

      Shane realized he was shamefully neglecting his other guests. It was coming up on ten o’clock, and the silent auction was about to close. He knew he should go upstairs and help his cousin Maddie announce the winners, but he wanted to see how Darci felt about the shiraz, the last of their four tastings.

      Every time he hosted this fundraiser, he met new people. But few of them fascinated him the way Darci Lake did. She was down-to-earth, unaffected, and he liked her ability to laugh at herself.

      She swirled the wine in her oversize glass, checking the color and viscosity as he’d told her. Then she leaned down and inhaled.

      “Sharper,” she said with a wrinkle of her pert nose.

      She was distractingly beautiful, with thick, shoulder-length auburn hair. He guessed she was about five feet six. She was slender, with wonderfully rounded breasts, long legs and delicate hands. Her lips were full, her lashes long and her wide eyes were a startling shade of crystalline green. He could barely keep himself from staring at them.

      She took a sip.

      Then she nodded decisively. “Sharper. I prefer the cab sauv. Definitely.”

      “Welcome to the dark side.”

      Worry flashed through her expression. “Is there something wrong with liking cabernet sauvignon? Am I a bohemian?”

      “You have excellent taste in wine.”

      “Are you just saying that?”

      “You like what I like.” He replaced her shiraz with a fresh glass of the cab sauv.

      She glanced around the tabletop. “We’ve made a mess.”

      “It’s not so bad.”

      “You were going to bring people down here for the tasting.”

      “The staff will clear things up in time.”

      He checked his watch, knowing he was cutting it pretty tight. For a moment, he considered canceling the tasting, coming up with an excuse to keep everyone else upstairs while he stayed here with Darci.

      He gave a silent thank-you to Justin for talking him out of bringing a date tonight. If he played his cards right, perhaps his perfect streak of getting lucky at the search-and-rescue fundraiser would continue. There were hours to go before it ended, and the DJ was about to get things rolling on the dance floor.

      Making the decision, he lifted his own wineglass and rose to his feet. “Let’s take this with us.”

      “Sure.” She followed his lead. “Where are we going?”

      “The dancing’s about to start. You want to dance?”

      The question seemed to throw her. “With you?”

      “Sure, with me. Why not?”

      She seemed to scramble. “Uh, you have so many other guests. And you haven’t hosted the real wine tasting yet.”

      He leaned across the table to take her hand. “My cousin Maddie will do the other wine tasting. I’ve had enough for now.”

      He kept hold of her hand as they cleared the table and moved through the wine cellar, to the door and out into the hallway.

      “Are you going to lock it?” she asked.

      “No need. The sommelier will be down in a few minutes.”

      “You have a sommelier?”

      “Doesn’t everyone?”

      Her steps faltered, and he realized the joke made him sound like a pretentious jerk.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, stopping them both.

      She tipped up her chin to look at him. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

      “I’m not a spoiled brat. The mansion is purposely equipped for this kind of entertaining. But it’s not my regular life.”

      But a remoteness had entered her eyes. “Your family has a lot of money. That’s just the way it is.”

      “I don’t lord it over people, Darci.”

      “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

      “You’re angry.”

      She looked away. “I’m really not.”

      But something had changed. He could tell.

      “Will you dance with me?” he asked.

      She compressed her lips.

      “Please dance with me.”

      Voices traveled down the hall. Shane recognized the accent. The sommelier and his staff were on their way.

      She blinked, and whatever had altered her expression was gone. “Okay,” she said. “One dance.”

      He impulsively put an arm around her, his fingertips brushing her shoulder as they resumed walking.

      The sommelier, Julien Duval, appeared in the hallway. “Mr. Colborn, sir.”

      “There’s some cleanup needed in the cellar,” he told Julien.

      “Right away, sir. You’ll be joining us?”

      “Not this time. Can you find Madeline and ask her to stand in?”

      “Of course.”

      “Thank you, Julien.”

      Shane followed Darci up the staircase. Her sparkling gold silk dress dipped to a low vee at the back, giving him a marvelous view. It outlined her trim figure and