Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

“Lacie's." The word fell from Micki's lips before she could stop it.

He let loose a loud laugh. The woman beside him stared at Micki with a pitying expression and chuckled as well. It wasn't just a laugh at Micki's expense, but one with a perfect lilt no man could resist.

"What's so funny?" Micki asked, defensively.

"Someone needs to look after her," the big-breasted woman said about Micki as if she were a child in need of a babysitter.

"Quiet," Damian said when he took in Micki's glassy eyes and heard her slurred speech. He would never have pegged her for a drinker, but separated from her uncle and sisters, who knew?

Still, Lacie's? He'd bet his entire savings that Micki was clueless about their destination.

"You didn't tell her?" he asked his teammates.

"Tell me what?"

His companion squeezed his arm. "Excuse me, sweetie, but I need the little girls' room" she said, obviously bored by Micki and a conversation that didn't revolve around her.

To Damian's relief, Carole, the legal secretary he called whenever he was in town, excused herself.

He'd seen her on and off during spring training and again over a month ago. By then his interest had already died out. She'd been distracted as well, as if she'd already mentally moved on. He hadn't intended to call her again, but between his injury and Carter's mouth on the flight over, Damian had needed a diversion and had picked up the phone. Now he wished he hadn't. With Micki here, he was definitely sorry he hadn't just joined up with the team instead.

From the moment he'd seen Micki's reaction to Carole, the flicker of surprise followed by dismay in her expressive face, he'd felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt and self-loathing. Micki managed to work his emotions as well as his sisters did, which merely pissed him off and reminded him of all the reasons Micki wasn't good for him when he needed to focus on his career plan.

A plan he'd been working on successfully for years. He'd party with the team tonight and when he still showed up first for the camp stint tomorrow, he'd prove to everyone that not even an injury could get him down. End result, nobody would wonder whether age was catching up with Damian Fuller, nor would they worry too much about whether this injury would sideline him from the postseason and the playoffs. They would merely speculate on how soon he'd manage to return.

But where Micki was concerned, Damian was torn. As much as he resented Micki's emotional pull, he also desired to let things play out between them. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. Man, he thought, if he ever let himself get tangled up with Micki Jordan, she'd tie him up in knots so tight he'd never get them undone.

For all his mixed emotions about this attraction, Damian knew he had no choice but to follow his cardinal rule: There'd be no screwing around with Micki no matter how much he desired her, and the best way to keep that vow was to distance himself.

"Lacie's is a strip club," he said to Micki. "And I can't see you hanging out at a place like that." He figured she'd blush and make a quick getaway.

Instead she stepped around Roper and faced Damian head-on, treating him to a shocking sight he hadn't noticed before. Micki wasn't Micki, at least not in appearance. Instead of her buttoned-up shirt and dark pants, she was dressed in a bright pink strapless sundress, exposing bronzed skin and sexy thin tan lines that made a man want to devour her. Starting at her shoulders, he imagined licking her soft flesh, heading downward until he discovered just where those tan lines led. With a groan, Damian shifted to accommodate the growing ache in his pants.

"Are you saying I don't belong in that club?" Indignant, Micki perched her hands on her hips, thrusting her breasts out "That I can't compete with the other women there? Is that what's making you laugh at the thought of my going to a strip club?" she asked.

He blinked, sensing there was a wealth of information in that statement. Obviously he'd touched a nerve. Knowing women as he did, he also realized anything he said now could get him into trouble.

In this case, trouble was a good thing if it kept her away from him. "Micki, I'm sure you can hold your own anywhere you go," he said in a deliberately placating tone he often used to tick off his sisters.

"Even among naked women?" Micki blushed red, but to her credit she didn't run away.

He figured he had the alcohol to thank for her lack of inhibition and muttered a curse. Meanwhile his teammates looked on in amusement at their exchange.

"Hey, if you can handle yourself with these guys, you can handle yourself anywhere," he said as if he didn't believe his own words.

"Because I'm one of them? Good old Micki, one of the guys," she spat, the disdain in her voice clear.

Now, where had that come from? He hardly viewed her as one of the team, but he wasn't about to alter the impression she believed he had of her when it suited his purpose of creating distance.

"If you say so," he muttered instead.

She nailed him with a vicious glare. "Come on, let's get going," she said to the rest of the men.

Damian shot Roper a warning look. Do not take her to a strip club.

Before Roper or Damian could react, the rest of the guys seemed to take her up on her suggestion and, with Micki in tow, headed toward the exit

"Oh hell." He started after them, pulling Carter aside on his way.