Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

DAMIAN BOLTED FOR MICKI, but she'd already joined a dancer on the stage. Her hips swayed and she shimmied to the beat of the music in an exact imitation of the other woman's expert moves. Damian's mouth grew parched.

"We have to get her out of there," Roper said from behind him.

"No shit."

Damian placed a hand on the stage, intending to haul himself up, but Micki's next movement stopped him. Eyes closed, she pulled down the top of her sundress, revealing a sexy lace strapless bra, one transparent enough that her full breasts were exposed for the world to see.

"Oh shit." Damian jumped up to pull her off the stage but another patron was already there.

The big bull of a guy obviously knew it was hands off when it came to the women who were performing but had decided the house rules didn't apply to a regular customer like Micki. The guy didn't bother tucking cash into Micki's strapless lace bra, he just groped her breast instead.

Without warning, possessive anger and fury surged through Damian, along with one thought: No one touches her but me.

Micki's expression reflected delayed horror as she suddenly realized what was going on. She screamed and slapped the guy groping her but he didn't seem bothered at all. Damian intervened, grabbing the drunk by his collar and hauling him away from Micki. While his teammates held the man down, Damian lifted Micki into his arms, doing his best to protect his wrist, and headed for the door.

Straight into the glaring lights of the paparazzi.

Safe and secure in the cab, Damian finally caught his breath. Looking back he realized Micki hadn't fought his rescue attempt. On the contrary, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and let him whisk her away. She'd even appeared oblivious to the flashbulbs that followed them to the taxi door.

Damian didn't know how the press had been privy to where the team would be. He'd done his best to get Micki out of there quickly and anonymously. He could only hope the photographers hadn't caught anything more than a shot of the back of a woman's head, but Micki had been squirming, so who knew?

Now inside the taxi, instead of sitting on her own side of the cab, Micki draped herself across Damian. Hard as he tried to ignore her, he couldn't avoid noticing how nicely her soft body and lush curves curled against him. Her full breasts pressed enticingly against his chest, making him painfully aware that she was every inch a woman he desired.

"What do you say you move over?" he suggested.

Her warm breath fanned his neck and ridded his ear and she curled her fingertips into his shirt collar. "I'm comfortable here."

"But it's safer over there." He tipped his head to the side.

"Since when do you play it safe?" she asked in a husky purr.

He told himself it was the alcohol talking, but she'd kissed him that last time and she'd been perfectly sober. He shook his head to clear those thoughts. He wasn't going to take advantage of her now.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Micki tipped her head back and looked at him.

In her eyes he saw a mixture of innocence and seductiveness in one tempting package.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, unable to think or focus on anything except the woman in his arms.

She shook her head and her curls fell around her face. "Wouldn't you rather I have your tongue?" she said and then, without giving him a chance to answer, she leaned close and sealed her lips over his.

He wanted to do the right thing, the chivalrous thing, and stop her before things got out of control. But the minute her mouth touched his, he was lost, unable to do anything except succumb to her will, and she had plenty. Her mouth pressed hard on his and her tongue slipped between his parted lips. She teased with her eager tongue and nipped with her teeth, proving exactly how much she desired him.

As she worked magic with her mouth, her body reacted, too. Her nipples tightened and pressed against his chest, the flimsy bra he'd seen earlier doing nothing to protect him against the hot sensations she'd aroused.

Yet somehow he kept his hands on her small waist. Somehow he resisted the urge to cup her breasts in his palms. And somehow he refused to allow his hands to explore the rest of her soft flesh and supple curves.

But over time his body tightened, overloaded by sensations that had him teetering on the brink of losing control. Unable to restrain himself anymore, he threaded his hands into her hair, slanted her head and kissed her back, hard and hot, holding nothing back. His mouth fit perfectly with hers and her warm heat settled over his groin, showing him a prelude of what could be, if only he gave in to d

esire.

Without warning, the taxi hit a bump in the road, jarring Damian back to unwelcome reality. The woman in his lap needed rescuing not ravishing.

He wasn't happy but he broke the kiss, letting them both come up for air. Though it was dark in the cab, he could see her tangled hair and moist lips and the sight made him want to start kissing her all over again. Resisting was the most difficult thing he'd ever done. Because he'd just learned that Micki was the one thing he feared: the hot number he just couldn't resist.

She sighed and leaned her cheek against his, a soft, sweet gesture that hit him like a punch in the gut.Damn, he wished they'd get to the hotel soon. He smoothed the back of her hair and she slowly slipped downward until her head lay in his lap and her eyelids drifted shut.

"Sweet heaven." No doubt about it she was put on this earth to test him, Damian thought.