The VIP Room(170)

If those women could see her tonight, her face flushed, soft tendrils of gold-shot brown hair brushing her bare shoulders, her delicious curves on display in that body hugging gown—

Down, boy.

Graham came into sight, just in time. Marcus’ thoughts were heading down a path he shouldn’t even be thinking of, and he wanted to drag her to a dark corner, lay his hands on those curves. On her.

Marcus stepped in his brother’s path, waited for him mouth off, or throw some snarky comment. Anything, any excuse to punch him. Screw the audience.

“I see you found a companion, Marcus. I wasn’t sure you were given enough notice to—”

“Son of a bitch. You wanted me to show up alone, didn’t you? Point out my lack to everyone. Again.”

Graham shrugged, in that way that made Marcus want to pound on him. “You don’t need me for that, baby brother. Though you did manage to pull out a sweet replacement.” His gaze moved over Leah. Marcus stepped between them and bared his teeth. “A little possessive, aren’t we?”

“One more word, Graham, and I’ll jam my fist down your throat.” His voice was quiet, so quiet only the three of them could hear. But Graham’s eyes widened, surprise clear on his face. “Leah deserves more than your leering and innuendoes. Hell, she deserves more than either of us can give her.”

“Leah—Leah Frane?” Before Marcus could stop her she moved into sight, meeting Graham’s eyes.

“Good evening, Mr. Hawkins.”

“Damn—sorry. You look beautiful, Miss Frane.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hawkins.” That sexy, delightful blush was back. “You are looking quite striking yourself. Both of you,” she whispered, glancing up at Marcus. Then she stared at the floor, like she couldn’t believe she just spoke to the great Hawkins brothers. “If you’ll excuse me,” she managed to slip out of Marcus’ grip before he could stop her. “I need to find a restroom.”

“Right behind the gold elephant,” Graham said, smiling down at her.

“Thank you.”

She walked away, her hips swaying gently under the velvet, the smooth, bare skin of her back on display. For everyone. What the hell was he thinking?

“Who knew that was under all those layers of drab?” Graham held up both hands when Marcus turned on him. “Making an observation, little brother. You’ve already marked your territory. I’ll just watch from the sidelines while you make a fool of yourself over her.”

“Shut up, Graham.”

“That clinches it. No scathing comeback.” He gave Marcus a wicked smile. “All the blood has gone to the little brain.”

Unfortunately his brother was right. That woman was danger on two legs, and Marcus needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, before he started getting ideas.





Chapter 4





Leah slumped in one of the upholstered chairs, staring at the marble counter. Anywhere but the long mirror that covered one wall. She knew how she’d look—flushed, desperate. Needy.

What was happening to her? She swore to herself that the feelings she had for her untouchable boss would stay locked behind the wall around her heart.

But his surprising generosity unbalanced her, and his reaction to her in the gown still left her—hot.

With a sigh she pushed to her feet and braced herself for her reflection. After him dragging her all over the museum, she knew her almost neat hair had to be a disaster. First look proved her right. Curls escaped from the twist, falling around her face, tumbling down her back. At least her breasts were still inside the halter.

She lifted her hands to her hair and started pulling the pins out.

“Don’t touch it.” The voice had her jerking around. Cassie Deveaux stood next to the door, green eyes appraising. “Your hair is—”

“Out of control?”

“You have no idea, do you? No wonder he’s so—” She cut herself off. “Your hair is lush. Like your figure.” She moved to Leah, circling her like a piece of merchandise. “Did Marcus give you the gown?” Leah nodded. “It looks like one of Fantine’s creations.”

Leah gasped. “Fantine—of Fantine Baroque?”

“They’re old friends. Actually, Fantine was his sister’s friend first. Marcus probably gave her your measurements from memory. He has a good eye. Always did. May I?” She waved at Leah’s hair.

“I guess. Sure.” She sat, not facing the mirror. Cassie couldn’t make it worse—and if she did, the front door was close, and an easy exit. Gentle fingers touched her hair, smoothing, tugging, doing—she didn’t care what. Either way, she decided it was better to leave once Cassie was done. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Helping me. Being—”

“Nice?” Cassie moved until she faced Leah. “Marcus and I have had fun.” She flashed a smile. “We used to have too much fun at times. But we’re friends now, and a strings-free date when necessary. When he looked at me, in our wilder days, it was with lust. When he looks at you,” she moved out of sight and started tugging again. “I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that. I have to admit, I thought I’d hate the woman he finally saw, really saw as more than a playmate. But you’re so—genuine, I just can’t.” A little more tugging, while Leah absorbed her words. Or tried to—she couldn’t get over that this gorgeous woman admired her. “Okay, and done. Stand up.”