Page 53 of Perfect Vengeance

“Jack Gates.” He accepted Paul’s hand with his good one, keeping the other possessively at the small of her back.

Unable to miss the gesture, Paul’s jaw tightened. A smile tipped Jack’s lips at the obvious irritation he was causing her ex.

Jack’s warm, lean fingers on her bare skin continued working their magic. She didn’t understand it, but she felt tense and relaxed all at the same time. She leaned in closer to that comfy spot against his shoulder and chest.

This is not good. She had to get out before she did something stupid, like…like… She didn’t want to find out, yet she couldn’t leave. Not with a ballroom full of guests.

“What brings you to a charity fundraiser on a Saturday night?” she asked overly brightly.

“Supporting a worthy cause.” He pulled two checks from his jacket pocket and handed them to her.

The first one had his name on it. A thousand dollars.

“Thank you.” A lump formed in the back of her throat. The man was full of surprises. “This is unexpectedly generous.”

He leaned down. “I’m not as cold and unsympathetic a bastard as you think.”

“I never said that.”

“Actually, you did.”

She caught the brief glimmer of humor in his eyes—and was that a scooch of hurt? Couldn’t be. Then she remembered. She had said that to him the night he’d broken into her apartment. She’d accused him of having absolutely no feelings whatsoever for the women and their families at the Center.

His display of emotion lasted only a second before it was gone. The realization she had the power to hurt this man—this tough federal agent—tugged at her heartstrings.

“Jack, I’m sorry.” When she touched his arm, his biceps bunched. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Forget it.”

He began making small talk with Margo, Kinsey, and Anna, pointedly ignoring Paul.

She looked at the other personal check Jack had given to her, also for a grand. This one had another man’s name on it. Kyle Gates. Kyle. Jack’s brother, the one he’d been talking to while they’d driven to Psycho’s. She recalled him saying Kyle was also an FBI agent.

She tugged on Jack’s sleeve, and he leaned in again. His clean, freshly showered scent enveloped her in a blanket of yummy manliness. “Please tell your brother we greatly appreciate his donation as well.”

“I’ll do that.” He speared her with one of his sharp, penetrating looks.

When he returned his fingers to the small of her back, her belly fluttered, overriding the signal from her brain to flee. Oh, dear lord.

It was wrong to use Paul, but he was her only escape route. “Paul, do you still want that dance?” His grin made her grimace.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He tugged her out of Jack’s one-armed embrace and onto the dance floor. Within seconds, she was beginning to regret her invitation. The way Paul’s hands slid all over her bare back was far too intimate, as if they were still lovers. Then again, the torture was self-inflicted, and she really did feel horrible about using him this way.

Jack remained talking with her friends, but his eyes followed her and Paul around the dance floor. His jaw set, and the furrow between his brows kept getting deeper every time she looked at him.

Hah! A sliver of repressed joy shot through her. He was jealous of Paul.

After the second song, she realized Paul had been rattling on about what he’d been doing since they split, and she hadn’t absorbed a single word. What was Jack really doing here? Despite his and his brother’s generous donations, she didn’t doubt he was here on government business.

Paul’s continued caressing of her bare skin pulled her back to reality. His touch wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it was nothing compared to those incredible zinging sensations every time Jack touched her.

Lord, but she might have to dance the entire evening with Paul just to maintain distance from Jack. Her friends would help keep him busy. It was nearly eleven, and by New York City nightlife standards, technically still early. Most of these shindigs lasted well past midnight. How would she ever manage to dance with Paul all night?

She could do it. She had to.

“Excuse me, may I cut in?” came a familiar, deep voice.

Gina’s heart sank and her resolve went straight down the toilet.