Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

He and the rookie had a

n obvious hate-thing going, but as the captain, Damian had done his best only to pick on the kid for real mistakes, and there'd been plenty.

Now Damian needed Carter's help. As long as Carole was on his arm, Micki wouldn't listen to a word Damian had to say. He needed to rid himself of Carole and he had to do it fast because he didn't trust anyone else to watch out for a drunken Micki except himself.

"How 'bout a peace gesture," Damian offered the rookie.

Carter shrugged. "Sorry, man but I don't really give a crap whether or not we get along." His cocky demeanor and smirk told Damian he meant what he said.

Okay, so he wasn't going to do this the easy way. "Well I'm going to do you a favor despite your sorry-ass attitude. Instead of the strip club, how about you take my date out?"

"You serious?" The young kid's eyes narrowed in thought, probably at the idea of Carole's huge, surgery-induced breasts.

"Deadly serious."

The difference between Carole and Micki beyond the obvious was that Carole knew the score. Yeah, she'd be pissed at Damian for pawning her of on Carter, but she'd get over it. It wasn't like they were exclusive; she dated other guys when Damian was out of town, which was most of the time. Not to mention that he'd had to coax her to go out with him tonight. He'd wondered if she was waiting for someone else to call.

Damian wouldn't hear from her after this stunt nor would he call her next time he was in town. No loss for either of them, really. Moving on was long overdue. Yeah, Damian wanted to look out for her feelings, but she could handle being passed off to Carter. Weighing who needed him more, Carole or Micki, there was no contest.Besides, Carole would probably enjoy Carter, who'd give her the kind of good time she was looking for.

Damian dug into his pocket and peeled off a couple of hundreds. "I'll even pay for your dinner and drinks”

From the corner of his eye, Damian saw Carole looking around for him in the bar while the guys were loading into cabs. "Well?”

Carter shrugged. "Why not? She looks like a good time and the little publicist turned out to be a prude even after I plied her with alcohol."

Damian clenched his jaw. He had no time now to deal with Carter and what he'd done to Micki, but he definitely would later.

An eager Carter snatched the bills and swaggered toward Carole while Damian caught the last cab with his teammates. Damian didn't miss the irony. He was headed for Lacie's Lounge, a strip joint he used to frequent in his younger days, so he could watch out for a woman destined to be his downfall in his declining years.

Once at the club, Damian thought things would get worse, but he was wrong. Micki sat quietly by Roper, taking in the women gyrating around the poles on stage. She hadn't ordered a drink, which Damian took as a good sign and he relaxed in his seat.

For the first time, he noticed the tight bond between Micki and Roper. Was there a thing between them he didn't know about? Damian's gut twisted in uncomfortable knots.

Suddenly the music shifted. The beat picked up. The women on stage altered their movements to the more sensual and seductive rhythm. Micki rose from her seat, mesmerized.

Damian started to stand, too, but Roper put a hand on his arm. "Let her go.”

Damian glanced at the other man.

"She needs this," his teammate explained.

The words were cryptic yet sincere. Damian lowered himself back into his seat, wary and uncomfortable.

As if aware he was staring, Micki turned and met his gaze. Their eyes held. The music pulsed around them in an erotic beat, increasing the awareness simmering between them that he still didn't understand. She was the opposite of everything he normally desired and yet…

She broke the connection as she slowly gravitated toward the stage, seemingly fascinated by the women and their moves. Or maybe it was their skimpy clothing she wanted a better look at. Either way, she made her way forward, staggering a little as she walked.

Damian clenched his fists but forced himself to trust Roper's judgment. Since Micki had been subdued since they'd entered Lacie's, Damian didn't see any harm in letting her watch from up close.

One minute Micki had been watching the women spinning onstage and the next minute she was up and striding closer. She knew she was drunk. She also knew that something about these uninhibited women fascinated her. What made them so bold? So daring? What caused the other women to strut and flaunt their assets while Micki withdrew into herself?

The rhythmic sounds of the music drew her and, wanting a closer view, she stepped toward the stage, looking for…what? Answers to her own insecurity, perhaps?

The tempo changed and Micki swayed her hips in time to the music, which she realized had picked up. The girls on stage were shimmying their breasts at the men in the front row.

Things in front of Micki blurred as she wondered what it would feel like to dance as if she were a woman every man wanted to look at and touch. To call his own. God, she thought, she really must be drunk.

One of the dancers held out a hand. Micki knew she wasn't beckoning to her and yet she reacted as if she'd been lured onto the stage. This was her chance to find out what it would be like to be anyone other than every guy's pal.