“Mayfield?” one of the other women asked, a blonde one. Although the blonde hair wasn’t nearly as stunning as the blonde hair that brushed his hand where it sat on the mystery woman’s shoulder. “As in…”

“That’s right. The Mayfield is mine.” He shot them all another panty-melting grin and then turned his attention to the reason why he was in there in the first place. “Come and dance with me, baby.” He murmured in her ear.

He liked the way a shiver traveled ...