Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

Damian gripped the steering wheel tightly and spared a quick glance at Micki. The wind had blown her blond curls around her face in an adorable tangled mess, but it was her silence that caught his attention.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, but whatever she'd been about to reveal remained locked inside her.

Not for the first time, he wondered what made this enigmatic woman tick. A tomboy who was comfortable in a locker room full of naked men, yet a female who was uncomfortable in her own skin. What an interesting mix of contradictions she presented.

At least she was speaking to him again. He hoped his next comment wouldn't put the barrier right back up. "My guess is that you wish you'd spent more time with your sisters and then maybe you wouldn't be thought of as one of the boys."

"What makes you say that?" she asked, her voice tight with tension.

"Something you said last night."

"I wouldn't remember."

She was lying, he thought. She remembered everything about last night as clearly as he did.

Suddenly his estate loomed ahead and he pulled onto the private paved road that led to his home. When he hit the remote he kept in his car, two large iron gates slowly opened before them. He pulled up the circular driveway and parked in front. Before he could say anything else, Micki hopped out of the Jeep ahead of him.

He'd have liked to continue their talk, but there would be more than enough time to ask her questions later. Unless she bailed and headed back for New York. A thought he suddenly didn't find all that appealing,

MICKI STOOD in Damian's large kitchen, which seemed to be the center of the first floor. On one side there was a functional working area and on the other, a long counter surrounded by bar stools. In the middle stretched a large table that seated six. Attached to that was a family room with a flat-screen TV, visible from all angles of the kitchen.

Damian dropped his keys and walked straight to an answering machine, which he noticed was blinking red. He hit a button and an electronic voice informed him there were seven messages.,

"Hi, it's Ronnie. Just wanted to make sure you got down there safely. Call me."

Damian glanced at Micki. "That's my youngest sister," he explained without being asked.

"Hi, Damian. It's Brenda. We're worried about you and that wrist. Call us."

Micki shot him a questioning look.

"The middle one." He rolled his eyes, but the gesture was purely indulgent.

"It's Dad. Your mother's driving me crazy. She's been calling every hour and hanging up no matter how many times I explain you won't get home until later. Check in before she drives me batty. Oww. Damn woman pinched me. Call-" His message was cut off by the beep signaling the end of his allotted time.

Micki laughed.

"Uncle Damian, I need you. Mom won't let me go to the movies with a boy. How ancient is that? You have to talk to her. Puhleeze!" The young girlish voice whined into the phone.

Damian shook his head. "Melanie. She's sixteen going on twenty-six."

"Hi, baby brother, it's Marissa. The girls are making me insane. One wants to date, the other won't leave her room. We're home for the night. Call and let us know how the wrist is doing."

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away, obviously growing embarrassed by the

train of phone calls. Embarrassed but not annoyed, Micki noted, as another female voice chimed in next

"It's Ronnie again. I didn't buy your I'm fine act. I know you're upset and worried about not being able to play ball. Call me."

A beep and then a voice said, "Hi, honey. You could call your mother every once in a while."

Micki swallowed a laugh.

And finally, the electronic voice chimed in next saying, "End of messages."

"You're lucky to have them, you know. All of them," Micki said, keenly aware of the importance of her sisters, uncle and Lola in her life. None made up for the absence of her parents but she'd be adrift without them and was grateful for them all.