But too late for that. She’d already turned down that job. For the best, she reminded herself, as a memory of the attractive bastard flashed through her mind. Back to work.

She turned to see what Brax wanted her working on next, when Lacy caught her eye from the stage, nodding to her empty glass. Relieved to have an excuse to take a break, Andy grabbed the bottle reserved for the performers and started weaving her way through the crowd.

*   *   *

Blake watched Andrea’s hips swivel as she pirouetted through the onlookers to reach the stage. With an effort, he wrenched his eyes up to her tousled auburn locks. That was rather inappropriate of him, the rear-gazing. It’s just that she was so graceful, he told himself. He almost believed it, too. Observing her behind the bar, he really had been impressed with her grace. That one customer had actually dropped trou and she barely batted an eye. She was exactly the right person to screen his future brides—nothing fazed her.

He thought she’d noticed him before the pantsless gentleman sat down, but she hadn’t looked his way since. That was good; he hadn’t exactly figured out a way to make his professional interest in her look less like stalking. He sipped the Shiraz he’d ordered from the bartender with the peculiar facial hair as she was dealing with other customers.

Wooing her into his employment would have been much easier if she hadn’t actually found work here. In his half-assed fantasy, they would have spoken more about his offer, which he would have quietly raised over a bottle of Sangiovese. As Andrea’s sister serenaded them, she would have accepted his offer. After apologizing for her earlier refusal, of course. He assumed she’d have regretted that almost immediately. Evidently not.

Something plaid landed on him like a falling tree. It was thanks only to his own grace that Blake was able to keep the wine in his glass from sloshing all over his pristine white T-shirt. By the time he’d recovered enough to deal with the drunken asshole who’d staggered into him, the guy had already lurched off. He lost him in the crowd, so Blake decided to let him go. Then he returned to his observation of Andrea, only to realize she’d been covered up by the plaid guy. Blake was already shoving people out of the way when he noticed the lout was trying to cop a feel on his future employee.

Reaching the pair quickly, Blake overheard her using some rather creative phrases to dissuade him. His smile faded before it was half formed when he saw the reason for her colorful language—that fuckshovel had one hand on her breast, and the other was roughly pulling her by the arm toward the back door. Oh, hell no. Future employee or not, that was not how you treated a woman.

“Is there a problem?” Blake steeled his voice into his best boardroom tone.

“Blake?” Drea’s face went from shock to relief to confusion in a rapid sequence the drunk guy obviously wasn’t going to follow.

With glossy eyes, the drunk attempted to square his shoulders, his grasp still firmly on Drea. “Back off, dude, I saw her first.”

Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a bar fight. Oh, that’s right—never. But he wasn’t about to let on. “I think, dude, that you should be the one to back off. The lady is clearly uninterested.”

“Oh, she’s interested.” He punctuated his declaration by squeezing Andrea’s breast.

She struggled to free herself. “I’m not interested.”

“You’re interested.” The drunk inched closer to Drea’s mouth.

She cringed, possibly as much from his bad breath as from the unwanted assault. “Nope.”

Blake’s free hand, the one not still holding his glass, curled into a fist at his side. Strange, because he’d never strike first. But he had to do something.

An idea came. “She’s mine.” His voice cut through theirs.

“Fuck you, man, she’s—”

With one easy tug, Blake pulled Andrea to him. He encircled her waist with his free arm and pressed his lips to hers. They were stiff at first but relaxed almost right away. His heartbeat sped up and his entire body hummed as she melted into him like ice cream on a hot day. Time seemed to stand still as the guy’s droning voice faded into the rushing of blood in Blake’s ears.

The feeling of her soft lips on his, parting slightly as he nudged his tongue against hers, made everything else in the world go away. She tasted like the first day of autumn—clean and cool and refreshing. One of her hands came up to tangle in his hair. She had to have noticed his intake of breath, but if she hadn’t, she’d definitely feel the way her kiss was affecting the fit of his pants. Blindly, he set his wineglass down on a nearby table to pull her closer.

With both hands on her waist, he could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her shirt. She was warm. So warm and so soft. He tightened his grip, unable to resist.

He groaned into her mouth. The sound brought him back. What was he doing? This was an incredibly inappropriate way to convince her to work for him. As he pulled away, he cleared his throat slightly.

In his periphery, he saw the drunk guy standing there gaping. “I guess she wasn’t interested,” he muttered as he swayed off.

Drea’s eyes never wavered from his. In them, Blake thought he saw a flicker of desire. But he must have imagined it because next thing he knew she was shoving him away with more force than she’d used on her attacker.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, as if she hadn’t given her all to that amazing lip-lock. Maybe she was a better actress than he’d supposed, though. Even the best thespian couldn’t fake the flush of her cheeks.

The kiss really had felt like something.

But that was impossible, because it was nothing. He’d gotten carried away, that was all. Nothing more. The adjustment he would need to make soon beneath his belt was just a fluke. A reaction to the wine, perhaps. He was normally more of a scotch man.

Refusing to meet her eyes again, Blake focused on the crease of her forehead. “He won’t be bothering you again. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, okay, I could have dealt with that myself. And what the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

His practiced speech left him, and he was forced to be blunt and to the point. “I came to offer you that job.” So much for the schmoozing he’d planned.

“Didn’t I turn you down once already today?”

With her hands on her hips, eyes flashing, Blake could see why Max Ellis had been so intrigued by this woman. She wasn’t Blake’s type, he had to keep reminding himself, but she was always a surprise. He’d expected a bit of gratitude, if not for the position he’d offered, then for saving her from the ass who’d manhandled her only a minute before. Instead she was scowling and accusing and, the worst, denying the moment they’d shared.

Well, he wouldn’t stand for her dismissing it so easily. “Didn’t feel like you were turning me down just then.” He located his glass again and took another sip. Watching her blush was almost as fun as kissing her had been.

She opened her mouth and shut it. Then opened it again only to slam it closed once more.

“What the hell was that?”

They both turned toward the heavily bearded redhead. Drea redirected her fluster toward this man who was obviously unhappy about something.

Uh-oh. Was this Drea’s real boyfriend? It had never occurred to Blake that she might have one, but of course, why wouldn’t she?

“Very uncool, Andy,” the man said. “I asked you to do a working interview for a bar, not a cathouse. You’re supposed to be helping Brax, not making out with your boyfriend. What will the customers think?”

Thank God, Blake almost sighed audibly. The hairy fellow was only her boss—and not even her boss, if he heard correctly. Interview meant not yet hired. So he still had a shot. He stepped back to watch the situation play out.