Free The Best Mistake of Her Life by Aimee Carson Page A

reason than to reestablish her ability to function, because her silk dress provided little protection from the commanding hand on her lower back. From the moment they had entered the room, his palm had settled in as if itowned the spot, and Kate’s ability to make small talk had been sabotaged.
    Which was a problem. Because her goal for tonight was to survive her first foray into the social world as a single woman with as much dignity and as few public ripples as possible. And that meant remaining cool and calm, an impossible battle with Memphis around. She’d barely made it through the introductions to the Robinsons, the couple hosting the evening. Not that introductions were necessary. Memphis’s and Brian’s notorious reputations had been well-known by her class in high school. Few had forgotten.
    Nor had they forgotten her publicly scrutinized divorce.
    Memphis splayed his fingers a little further, covering more of her back, and the unsteady feeling in her knees increased.
    “Move. It. Higher,” she said with false patience.
    “Is there a minimum safe distance from your butt that I need to be aware of?” Memphis said dryly.
    “Yes,” she said. Anything that didn’t leave her feeling so light-headed and turned-on.
    He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because I can head back to my apartment and pick up my electronic tape measure that uses a laser to calculate distance.”
    The laser couldn’t possibly sear her as thoroughly as his hand. “You don’t need a ruler or any other measuring device. Just a sense of decency,”she said as firmly as she could. “Right now your pinky is resting on my panty line.”
    “I was simply checking to see if you were wearing any,” Memphis said, his voice easy, and then his little finger gently rubbed a small stretch of the elastic waistband of her undies.
    She bit her lip, and then caught Susan Robinson looking at her strangely, so Kate worked hard at arranging her face into a pleasant expression. Unfortunately her muscles were so tense that pleasant and relaxed were next to impossible to achieve.
    “And as far as I’m concerned,” Memphis went on. “Touching a woman’s back isn’t considered a public display of affection. Unless, of course—” his voice grew deeper, and Kate knew she was in trouble “—I happened to be touching it with something other than my hand.”
    “Memphis,” she groaned, half begging to spare her sanity and half reprimanding for the same reason. Her gaze landed on the waving figure of Cheryl Jackson, the woman making her way toward them with her husband in tow, and Kate lifted her hand in response, her smile now so rigid it could break glass from thirty paces away.
    “I suppose there are several parts I could touch you with that would create a stir,” Memphis said, amusement in his voice.
    Heat flushed up her chest, her heart thudding as she forced herself to remain calm. Which was going remarkably well, considering.
    Until the Jacksons drew closer, and Memphisleaned in, his mouth just inches from her ear, his breath fanning across her neck. “Shall I try touching you with my tongue and see what kind of reaction we get from your old classmates?”
    Kate swallowed hard and rallied her anger. She shot Memphis a look from the corner of her eye, hoping to silence the man who had apparently deemed it national Drive Kate Anderson Insane Day.
    He was wearing a pair of dress pants he’d purchased that fateful day in the shop, along with a royal-blue tailored shirt that perfectly fitted his perfect chest. His angular jaw was clean-shaven, his light brown hair trimmed, but still with that slightly mussed look that gave him an I-just-crawled-out-of-bed air. Add to that his sinful eyes framed with long, dark lashes and the effect was one of overwhelming sex appeal that was impossible to ignore.
    All of which was annoying, which meant the introductions were difficult when Cheryl and Ted Jackson stopped to say hello. Memphis’s hand on her