Wicked Dirty (Stark World 2)

"Maybe so," she says. "Guess we'll play it by ear." She focuses exclusively on me. "Later, okay?"

"Sure," I say, then watch her back as she hurries away, walking right past Frannie, who's once again chatting with Rip Carrington.

I turn to Lyle. "Was that my imagination, or were you torturing that poor girl?"

"Just satisfying my curiosity. I think there's something going on between her and my trainer. Actually, I think there's not something going on."

"But you think they want there to be?"

"More or less."

"So you're teasing her about it? What happened to your nice guy persona?"

He spreads his hands and grins. "What can I say? I'm one hell of an actor."

I shake my head and laugh. And as I do, it hits me. He may be acting, but I'm not. Not that I'm his real girlfriend--that part's as fake as it gets. But the comfortable feeling I have around him is one hundred percent real.

And it's definitely nice.

Unsettling, but nice.

A chime sounds, and Lyle stands up. "I think that's supposed to let us know that the rest of the show will start soon."

I glance at my watch, and since it's almost eight, I assume he's right. He takes my hand, and we start to head for the entrance to the makeshift hall, where other guests are gathering in front of the velvet rope that currently bars the entrance.

"Lyle!"

The speaker is an insanely handsome dark-haired man standing next to an exceptionally pretty blonde woman with girl-next-door good looks.

Lyle detours us into the throng, and as we head toward the couple, I rack my brain trying to figure out why the man looks so familiar. "Laine," Lyle says when we reach them. "I'd like you to meet Nikki and Damien Stark."

"Oh!" I say, sure I sound like an idiot. But it's not every day you meet one of the wealthiest men in the world.

I don't know much about the rich and powerful, but you'd have to be dead not to have heard of Damien Stark, the former professional tennis player turned entrepreneur who now runs a multi-billion dollar enterprise. And whose name is on the door of this gallery.

His wife, Nikki, isn't nearly as famous, but I've heard about her, too. Mostly because of the scandal. Before they were married Damien offered her a million dollars if she'd pose nude for a painting. It was supposed to be an anonymous image with her face turned away, but word got out, and it was all over the tabloids for a while.

My stomach twists as I recall the story, and I feel an uncomfortable kinship. Not that what I'm doing is the same, not really. But it's secret. And a little bit naughty. And for money.

So, yeah, there are parallels.

I shiver, thinking how horrible it would be if the world found out about me.

"Will we see you at the Foundation picnic next Sunday, Laine?"

I jerk my head up, realizing that Damien's speaking to me. "I'm sorry?"

"The Stark Children's Foundation picnic," Lyle explains. "And, yes," he tells Damien. "We're hoping she can juggle her work schedule and make it."

Since I know nothing about this, I just smile and try to look eager.

"Oh, good," Nikki says. "I'll keep my fingers crossed. And as for you," she adds, pointing a finger at Lyle, "I should warn you that you created a monster the last time you were at the house. Lara is all about being an airplane now."

I look between the two of them, baffled.

"Her little girl. One arm, one leg, and then we spin." He does just that, holding an imaginary kid while some of the other guests look on, amused.

"She can't get enough of it," Damien adds.