Rachel tucked her tongue in her cheek. “It must be hell being a hero.”

“Here’s the deal.” Zack held her lightly by the arms on the edge of the dance floor. “You drop the stuff about medals and admirals, and I won’t mention that you were class valedictorian.”

She thought it over. “Fair enough. But I think—”

He pulled her into his arms. “Stop thinking.”

It did the trick, all right. The moment she found herself pressed hard against him, her mind clicked off. She could still hear the music, the low, seductive alto sax, the pulse of the bass, the slow rhythms of the piano notes, but rational thought vanished.

They weren’t dancing. Rachel was certain no one would call this locked-hard, swaying embrace a dance. But it would be foolish to try to pull away when there was so little room. Breathing wasn’t all that important, after all. Not when you could feel your own heart slamming against your ribs.

She hadn’t intended to wind her arms quite so firmly around his neck, but now that they were there, there seemed little point in moving them. Besides, if she skimmed her fingers up just a bit, they could trail through his hair so that she could discover how fascinating that silky contrast was compared to the rock-hard body molded to hers.

“You fit.” He bent his head so that his mouth was against her ear. “I was a little too wound up to be sure the other night. But I thought you would.”

The subtle movements of his lips against her skin had her shivering before she could prevent it. “What?”

“Fit,” he said again, letting his hands follow those curvy lines down to her hips and back again.

“That’s only because I’m standing on my toes.”

“Honey, height doesn’t have a thing to do with it.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair, filling himself with the scent, the texture. “You feel right, you smell right, you taste right.”

Shaken, she turned her head before his mouth could finish its journey down the side of her face. “I could have you arrested for trying to seduce me in a public place.”

“That’s all right. I know a good lawyer.” He trailed his fingers under the back of her soft wool sweater to the heated skin beneath.

Her breath caught, then released unsteadily. “They’ll have us both arrested.”

“I’ll post bail.” There was nothing but Rachel under the sweater, he was sure of it. His mouth went dry as dust. “I want you alone.” Biting off a groan, he dipped his head to press his lips to her neck. “Do you know what I’d do to you right now if I had you alone?”

She shook her swimming head. “We should sit down. We shouldn’t do this.”

“I want to touch you, every inch of you. And taste you. I want to make you crazy.”