Free Instructing an Heiress by Judy Teel

long, toned legs carrying her with confidence. A black sleeveless dress showcased her mouth-watering, hour-glass figure in a classy, subdued way and a burning punch of energy shot straight to his groin.  
    His gaze traveled up, taking in the clear smooth skin of her shoulders and neck, the soft lines of her face, her lush mouth, and then the large violet eyes framed by a wavy mass of soft auburn hair. His mouth went dry.
    CK?
    Ryan blinked. It couldn't be. He tried to pull in a breath, but something seemed to have a strangle hold on his throat.
    Brad released a low, appreciative whistle. "Holy mother. What a rack."
    "Ryan, you out of body, man?" Ajax asked. He leaned toward Todd. "He looks gone. Should I slap him?"  
    Farley stopped at their table, a sassy grin splitting her face. She waved her hand in front of Ryan. "You about to pass out on us, tiger?"
    He couldn't take his eyes off CK as she crossed the last couple yards to their table. The crowd parted before her, people staring, his friends drooling—And he knew what every man in the club was thinking because it was the same thing searing his brain; what would she look like naked and how could he get her that way.  
    This was bad. Very bad.  
    Hearing 32D was one thing, but seeing it? On his best friend? That was something else entirely.
    CK stopped next to Farley and the urge to jump across the table and bundle her out of the club sped through him like a tornado. He grabbed his beer with a shaking hand and took a quick gulp. It didn't help.  
    "He looks like he's about to have a heart attack, honey. I think you're a hit," Farley said. "My work here is done." She sauntered off toward the bar.
    CK's smokey violet gaze appraised him for a moment, then a glitter of challenge flashed in their depths.
    "Score," she mouthed at him.

    *   *   *
    As Farley left, CK kept a cool gaze on Ryan, even though her stomach had twisted into knots. Underneath the bravado, she didn't feel like a woman no man could resist. She felt exposed.  
    The air-conditioning kicked on and a draft brushed across the open skin of her chest and back. Despite the modest neckline of the dress, she still had plenty showing and struggled to resist the urge to look down. And kept her hands firmly at her sides.  
    No covering up, Farley had said. Walk proud. Women pay big money for what nature gave you. Flaunt it like you own it.
    She'd moved through the crowded club behind Farley reciting that mantra in her head and marveling over the bizarre experience of being seen. She was the same person underneath, the same body, the same face; but where she'd always blended into the background, now all eyes were on her. Was the world really so shallow that a change of clothes and a little makeup made such a difference? Or was this merely some kind of bizarre social game and as she clued into the rules other players noticed?  
    As men gawked, their gazes hot, and women assessed with open hostility, she kept her focus on the point of this whole chess match—showing Ryan that he didn't have her figured out. In that, at least, she appeared to be successful. The closer she'd gotten to his table, the more appalled and then furious he'd looked. A self-righteous delight fluttered through her.
    The appreciation on the faces of the other men with him had sent an additional light-headed sensation bubbling up under her ribs which was marvelous and curious all at the same time. She'd never pretended to be someone she wasn't before. It was...quite exhilarating.  
    Until everyone stared at her and no one said a word.  
    She had no idea what the protocol was under the circumstances and her satisfaction dimmed as the silence lengthened. The only man not gawking at her was the thin, moppy-haired guy sitting across from Ryan. At her approach, he'd given her a benign smile and then gone back to his beer. He was definitely the guy she wanted to sit next to.
    CK turned to get a chair to place next to Moppy Hair. Ryan let out a