‘So why haven’t you eaten anything tonight, Libby?’ His firm mouth shifted slightly at the corners. ‘Is it the Hollywood diet—or is it something else?’

Libby gritted her teeth and resisted the temptation to slide under the table to hide her embarrassment. He’d obviously heard everything.

She closed her eyes and cursed her brother and his big mouth.

It was becoming harder and harder to keep Andreas at a distance. How was she going to manage it if he thought that she was so affected by him that she was off her food?

‘I’m just not that hungry,’ she mumbled, pushing her plate away from her and accepting the coffee that the waiter offered. ‘I never eat much at these things. Hard to make a serious impact on the dance floor if you’re full of food.’

Andreas glanced towards the band, which was playing something with a pounding rhythm. ‘If you’re aiming to make a serious impact, we’d better get started.’ He stood up, broad-shouldered and confident, and extended a hand. ‘Dance, Libby?’

Aware that the rest of the people at the table were watching her expectantly, Libby let him pull her to her feet.

It shouldn’t be a problem, she reassured herself. The band was playing fast stuff. Nothing that required the slightest bit of physical contact.

But the minute they reached the dance floor she realised that she’d made a major misjudgement.

Andreas was a fantastically good dancer. He closed strong fingers around hers and swung her against him, picking up the rhythm of the music and controlling her moves like a master.

Totally seduced by the pounding beat of the music and his strong lead, Libby let herself go, swaying and spinning, moving away from him and then back again, feeling his hard, muscular strength against her heated body.

A natural dancer, Libby ignored the fact that her hair had escaped from the pin on top of her head and was flying around her face as he spun her around the dance floor.

She was having far too much fun to care.

It was only when the music ended and applause broke out around them that she realised that they were the only ones that were dancing.

Suddenly self-conscious, she made to retreat to their table but Andreas laughed and hauled her against him.

‘Don’t you dare. We haven’t even begun yet.’

This time several couples joined them on the dance floor, obviously inspired by their exhibition.

They danced continuously until finally the band shifted tempo and played something slow and seductive. On the dance floor the lighting softened and suddenly the atmosphere became more intimate.

‘You didn’t tell me you could dance,’ Libby said breathlessly, pink and laughing from the exertion. ‘That was fantastic.’

‘I’m Greek,’ he reminded her silkily. ‘All Greeks can dance.’

Without giving her a chance to argue, he curved a strong arm around her, pulling her firmly against him, and Libby put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the hardness of muscle thinly disguised by the fabric of his shirt. Disconcerted by the way he made her feel, she tried to keep up the conversation.