Heated (Most Wanted 2)

"You are," he agrees.

"And there was a moment--" I shake my head, thinking about the way she'd talked about Ashley's wedding, and the vulnerability that I'd seen in her eyes.

"What?" Damien is looking at me intently.

"I just think that, despite all the Elizabeth Fairchild nonsense, part of her really does want to be here for me on my wedding day."

For a moment, Damien only looks at me, his hands on my shoulders. Then he leans forward and captures my mouth with the sweetest of kisses. When he pulls away, I expect an argument. I expect him to recite an itemized list of every horrible thing my mother has done to me, to us. I expect him to point to his own father, whom neither of us want at this wedding. Hell, I expect him to talk some sense into me.

Instead, he says simply, "Be careful."

I swallow and nod, because I know that he's right to be concerned.

Once again, the door chimes, but this time I do not know the man who enters. He is drop-dead gorgeous, with dark hair highlighted by gold and red. He carries himself with a Damien Stark kind of confidence, and when his gaze sweeps the room, I see both calculation and intelligence in his sharp, gray eyes.

"We should finish up with Sally and get going," I say to Damien. "She's got other customers to deal with."

"I'm sure she does," he replies, "but Evan isn't one of them. He's with me."

"Holy crap," Jamie says, "do you travel in packs?"

Damien frowns, and I almost laugh. There aren't many people who can knock him off kilter. "What are you talking about?" he asks.

"Never mind," Jamie says, waving her hand as if wiping the words away. But she turns her attention to me, and I nod slightly. I have understood her perfectly, because this guy is hot. Maybe not Damien Stark hot, I think loyally, but he's got some serious sizzle going on.

"Evan Black, let me introduce you to my fiancee, Nikki Fairchild, and her best friend, Jamie Archer."

Evan strides across the room to join us. He shakes my hand, then Jamie's. I can't help but notice that she holds on a moment longer than is necessary.

"Congratulations," Evan says to me. "I knew the first time he talked about you that one day you two would be married. I wish you all the best."

"Thank you," I say, looking curiously at Damien. He's never mentioned this man before.

"I've known Evan for years," Damien says. "He lives in Chicago--we had a drink when I flew out there a few months ago," he adds.

"We met when we were both looking to acquire a failing business," Evan adds.

"Who got it?" I ask.

"Damien," Evan says, without regret. "But today it's my turn."

That I don't know what he means must be obvious by my expression. "Evan's acquiring the galleries," Damien says, referring to the art galleries that Giselle Reynard recently transferred over to him. "We were in Palm Springs examining the items in storage, and Evan's going to come to Malibu tomorrow to take a look at the main property."

"I have a few other things to take care of while I'm here," Evan says, "but I'm honored to have been invited to the wedding. I'm very happy for both of you."

"Thank you," I say, noticing that Jamie is still peering at him with interest. This is something that needs to be nipped in the bud. Not only is Jamie supposed to be backing away from men, but considering Evan is Chicago-bound, he could be nothing more than a fast fuck. And that is so not what my best friend needs.

Jamie pulls out her phone and makes a face, then looks at me. "We need to hurry," she says. "We're going to be late."

"Late? For what?"

She rolls her eyes. "I told you. We're meeting the girls at Raven," she says, referring to a male strip club in Hollywood.

"Raven," Damien says, his brows lifting.

"Um, hello?" Jamie says. "Bachelorette party. Alcohol. Mostly naked gorgeous men." She looks him up and down. "Not that she doesn't already have that in her life, but still. This is the night to be naughty."

"It's only barely past lunchtime," I say stupidly.

"I know," Jamie says. "That's when there's less of a crowd. More attention for us."

Oh my.

I glance toward Damien, but this is one of the few times when I cannot read his expression. My gaze shifts toward Evan. He is easier to read, as he's not even trying to hide his amusement.

"I told you I didn't want a bachelorette party," I say. "And I have stuff to do today. The music. The photographer," I remind her, then grimace when I see Damien's brows rise again. Damn. My little lie earlier has been soundly caught out.

"And I need to make sure the flowers are confirmed," I add, rushing on. "I need--"

"To chill with your friends," Jamie says. "Come on, Nick. Music or not, pictures or not, come Saturday night you're going to be married. You'll never, ever, ever get to go out as a hot single girl again. So we're doing this. I'm your maid of honor and I'm insisting." She glances at Damien. "Sorry, dude. It's in the best friends rule book."

"I'm certain it is." He turns to me, his expression implacable. "I need to speak with you alone."

I shoot Jamie the kind of look that could bring down an army, then follow Damien to the far corner of the showroom. We're standing beside a case filled with gorgeous, decorative wedding cakes. I glance at them, then wish that I hadn't, because all they do is remind me of how quickly Saturday night is barreling down on us. And while Damien's entry only moments ago might have felt like the cavalry, now those prickles of stress and nerves are starting up again. Because Jamie is right--this is my last chance to cut loose with my girlfriends.

But I don't want to irritate Damien, and though it has never actually come up between us, I feel confident he is not going to graciously accept the idea of another guy getting up close and personal. And we both know that even if we insist on ground rules, Jamie will make sure that they are soundly ignored.

"It's not my idea," I say.

"But you want to go." His voice is low, sensual--and it's making me nervous, because I can't figure out his angle.

"I didn't even know about it," I say.

He twines a strand of my hair through his fingers, then releases it as he brushes his thumb over the curve of my jaw, then over my lower lip.

My mouth parts, and I feel my body go soft and needy. There is no one in the world who has ever had the effect on me that Damien does, and right then I want nothing more than to fold myself into his embrace and lose myself in his kisses.

That, however, isn't where the moment is going.

"Go," he says. "Have fun with your friends."

I blink. "Really?"

He chuckles. "Would I deny you the full wedding experience?"

"I--well, no, but Raven ..." I trail off, because really, what is there to say about buff men dancing in thongs?

"Mmm, yes, about that." He moves closer, his heat so palpable I feel the sizzle. "You go. You have fun. And you come back and tell me all about it."

I lick my lips. "All about it?"

He leans forward so that his lips brush my ear. "Every last thing, baby. Have as good a time as you want. And when you get home," he adds, his hand sliding down to cup my ass, "I'll decide whether I need to simply spank this beautiful ass, or whether you need a more thorough punishment so that you remember just how much--how thoroughly, completely, and irrevocably--you belong to me." He pulls back so that he is looking straight into my eyes, and the desire I see there almost makes me come on the spot.

"Do we understand each other?"

I nod.

"What's that?"

"Yes," I say, and then meet his eyes defiantly. "Yes, sir."

The corner of his mouth twitches. He takes my hand and pulls me close, then brushes a gentle kiss over my lips. "Just so you know, Ms. Fairchild," he whispers, "I'm secretly hoping you spend this afternoon with your friends being very, very naughty."

Chapter Six

Jamie lets out a laugh as a guy in nothing but a thong and a cowboy hat gets up close and personal in her face. I'm sitting

right beside her and am listing toward the left--away from him--but Jamie is eating it up, gleefully tucking ones and fives into the elastic band of his thong. Elastic that, from the stretched out look of it, is going to snap at any moment.

Which probably wouldn't bother Jamie at all.

But even though the guy's not bad-looking, the only naked man I'm interested in anymore is Damien. And this guy is no Damien.