Private Pleasures

Chapter Three

"Christ, Grey, you look like hell."

Grey glanced up as his good friend Mark Davis slid onto the vacant barstool next to him. "Par for the course," he muttered, taking a gulp of his second scotch of the evening. "I feel like hell."

Monday had always been designated boys' night out at Bruno's Pub, where he met Mark and a few other colleagues for a drink and to shoot the bull. Today Grey just wanted to be left alone. While Mark appeared tanned and too energetic, Grey felt like he'd been through the wringer over the endlessly long, lonely weekend. Even work, which had always been his refuge, hadn't distracted him from thoughts of Mariah, her short skirts and sassy hair and the guy she was supposedly dating.

Mark grinned and signaled the bartender. "Hey, Bruno, I'll take a Bud and a bowl of your warmed peanuts." He glanced at Grey. "Uh-oh. Straight scotch?"

The only time he drank straight scotch was when he was in a rotten mood. The liquor hit him hard and fast, obliterating all thought and reason. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd get so inebriated he wouldn't dream of Mariah tonight.

Bruno delivered Mark's beer and the peanuts.

Mark thanked him and gestured to Grey. "Better give this poor man a refill, Bruno."

Grey rattled the ice cubes in his empty glass. "Make it a double."

Bruno lifted a dark, bushy brow but said nothing as he grabbed the bottle of scotch and put a double shot into Grey's glass.

"Looks like I'm gonna be the designated driver tonight," Mark said, snatching Grey's car keys from the bar top and putting them out of his reach. "But I suppose the favor is long overdue, considering how many times you've bailed me out of this place at closing time."

"Yeah, well, if I start singing or something, knuckle me alongside the head, will you?"

"Will do." Saluting him with his beer bottle, Mark took a drink.

Grey reached for a peanut and cracked open the shell, then tossed the warm morsel into his mouth. He and Mark had met at the University of Southern California during their junior year in college. Their similar interests and wild life-styles-that had included partying and lots of women-had bonded them on a masculine level. They'd become fast friends and had remained close over the years. Grey had seen Mark through one marriage and an ensuing nasty divorce with his two little boys caught in the middle.

In Grey's opinion, Mark's crumbled marriage was another prime example of how overrated wedding nuptials really were. Statistics and his own experience with his parents proved that wedded bliss rarely existed. He plowed his fingers through his hair. Why couldn't Mariah understand that?

Mark whistled low and gave Grey a friendly slap on the back. "Man, you got it bad for her, don't you?"

Grey's reply was distinctly profane.

Mark chuckled, unoffended. "Yes, indeed, my friend, you're as good as gone."

Grey didn't care for the sound of that. He'd always been able to walk away from other relationships unscathed, so why couldn't he shake Mariah? Thing was, he didn't want to forget her.

"It's hell getting dumped, isn't it?"

Maybe that's what was wrong, Grey thought, staring at the tawny liquid swirling in his glass. In all his dating years, going all the way back to high school, no one had ever dumped him. He'd always been the one to walk away from relationships before they got too intense, breaking more hearts and enduring the wrath of more women than he cared to recall.

No one had ever walked away from him.

He frowned. Although Mariah's rejection stung his pride and bruised his ego, there was a deeper level to his depression he didn't understand. Without her his life just wasn't the same. And when he rambled around that huge, empty house of his, he'd find himself listening for her voice or her sweet, lilting laughter. But there was no trace of her anywhere. No cosmetics cluttering his bathroom, no scent of her in his bed, no French vanilla coffee in the kitchen cupboard and no butter pecan ice cream in the freezer.

When had those things started to matter?

"Man, have you seen her lately, Grey?" Mark was saying as he scooped up a handful of peanuts and began shelling them. "She's got this great new haircut, and she's traded in her suits for these short little skirts and tight pants. She's got a great…uh, pair of legs."

Grey glared. They're mine.

As if reading his friend's thoughts and realizing how far he'd gone, Mark held up his hands, palms out. "Hey, I wasn't the only one looking, Grey."

"Where have you seen Mariah?" Where in the hell had she gone in her short skirts and tight pants?

"I've seen her a couple of times at Roxy's Nightclub." Mark shrugged. "She was there Saturday night."

"Roxy's?" His stomach felt as though someone had just put it through the spin cycle. "That place is a meat market."

Mark grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, grade-A quality."

Grey gulped the last of his scotch, and the liquor went down like a blazing inferno. "Who was Mariah with?"

"Jade."

"Figures," he muttered. "Anyone else?"

"Just the eight or ten guys who were trying to hit on her." Mark took another swig of beer. "I have to tell you, Grey, she looked hot."

Great. Just what he wanted to hear. "Did she dance with anyone?" And why was he torturing himself with all these questions when he really didn't want to know the answers?

"No, but not for a lack of being asked."

Gray scrubbed a hand over his jaw and swore.

"I went up to her and said hi, and we talked for a while until some guy she knew arrived."

Grey hung his head. "Must've been the guy she said she was dating."

"From what Jade told me, he's a lawyer."

"Did she dance with him?" Tell me no, because I can't stand the thought of her body being pressed against another man's.

"No," Mark said.

Grey closed his eyes and blew out a relieved breath.

"But she did leave with him."

Groaning at the intimate images that bit of news provoked, Grey patted his pockets for his Turns and filched two of the chalky tablets. They didn't mix well with the liquor in his belly.

"I've never seen you so torn up over a woman before." Mark's voice was concerned.

Mariah wasn't just any woman. She was, well, everything he'd ever wanted, but hadn't known he needed until she was gone. And he did need her, in ways he'd never experienced, and in ways he didn't understand. "Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything."

"Well, get over it." Mark nudged him good-naturedly. "There are other fish in that great big sea of women out there, or at least that's what you told me after Sheila and I divorced." He leaned closer. "That brunette sitting all alone in that corner over there is eyeing you. I'd bet if you gave her the slightest indication you're interested she'd be on her way over."

Grey glanced at the woman in question. She was a looker, with a voluptuous body squeezed into a tight, short denim dress. Long legs, blatantly sexy and wavy hair as long as Mariah's had been. He waited for a tug of sexual attraction. Not even a glimmer of appeal, and it had nothing to do with the liquor he'd consumed, but everything to do with wanting only one woman.

Man, he did have it bad for her.

"I'm not interested. She's all yours." Dismissing the other woman, Grey poked at an ice cube, trying to wade his way through his fuzzy thoughts. "I just don't understand what went wrong with me and Mariah. It was good between us. Nearly perfect." He shook his head.

"The spark must be gone."

Grey cast him a narrowed-eyed glance. "The spark?"

"Yeah, you know how women like that spark of excitement they feel when you first start dating. It must be gone for the two of you."

Grey thought the best he could on that one. Sparks between him and Mariah had never been a problem. He could just look at her a certain way and generate enough excitement to keep them on edge until they were alone. "I don't think that's it."

"Sure it is," Mark said confidently. "Trust me on this one."

Abrupt laughter escaped Grey. "Why should I trust you when your relationships fizzle faster than a sparkler on the Fourth of July?"

"But it's good while it lasts," Mark said, laughing. "I'll bet you guys settled into a nice, comfortable routine, right?"

He'd been real comfortable with Mariah. More than anyone in his entire life. She'd been his lover and his best friend. That's why he'd wanted her to move in with him. "Yeah, I guess so,"

"That's usually a sign that the romance is gone from the relationship," Mark said, swiping condensation from his beer bottle. "And when the romance is gone, a woman starts looking for deeper stuff. Usually a ring or a forever kind of commitment. That's usually the time to cut loose and bail or reevaluate the relationship."

He didn't want to cut her loose, so maybe he needed to reevaluate what they'd shared. He'd never considered himself romantic. He was a down-to-earth, no-frills kind of guy. And Mariah had never been one for flowers and candy. Then again, he'd never spontaneously, just-for-the-heck-of-it, given her those things.

Maybe she was feeling as though he didn't appreciate her. The thought made him frown.

"Okay, Mark, I've reevaluated the relationship and I want to keep it." He couldn't believe he was actually soliciting Mark's opinion and advice. "What do I do now?"

"Romance her. Women love that kind of stuff."

Grey cringed at the sound of that. He'd never had to woo a woman in his entire life. He didn't even know how. "I don't know-"

"Trust me, Nichols," Mark drawled. "It's not any different than trying to sway a potential client."

Grey was lost by the analogy. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"It's simple. Invest some money into her-wining, dining, flowers. Jewelry is a nice touch, too. A few romantic gestures, and she'll come around."

Grey's head began to pound. He was awkward with this whole romance angle, but maybe that's what Mariah needed. A little spice and sizzle. He'd tried begging and groveling and that hadn't worked.

He had nothing left to lose.

"The flowers have got to stop." Jade walked into Mariah's office carrying another gorgeous arrangement-this one bright pink tulips. Moving over a bouquet of peach-hued lilies sitting on Mariah's credenza, Jade set the elegant, cut-crystal vase in the cleared spot. "The place is starting to look like a funeral home. But then I guess it matches the mood around here for the past week." She lowered her voice. "You'd think someone died."

Only Jade would say something so morbid. Making a face her sister couldn't see, Mariah set aside a pending invoice for wooden shutters and whirled her chair around to Jade. Surrounding them were at least twenty different bouquets and floral arrangements of all shapes and variety. In her entire lifetime she'd never received so many flowers.

"How am I supposed to make him stop?" she asked, absently fingering the satiny soft petal of a nearby rose. "Besides, I like having them around. I feel like I've lost my best friend. Grey was my best friend."

Jade rolled her eyes. "Grey's merely a man, Mariah. Dogs make better best friends than men do. Dogs are more reliable, trustworthy and they know how to form a real bond." Her bangle bracelets jingled as she fluffed the fat bow around the stemmed tulips.

Mariah sighed, not sure whether she should be flattered or annoyed by Grey's romantic gesture. "I've tried stopping the deliveries, but the florist doesn't want to turn away the business, and the delivery boy informed me of the astronomical amount he's being paid to make sure the flowers reach my office."

Jade raised an inquisitive brow. "Have you tried calling Grey to put a stop to the deliveries?"

Mariah inhaled the floral fragrance floating in the room. The scent was dizzying, and deliciously intoxicating. "Yes, but he hasn't been in his office, and Jeanie doesn't know anything about the flowers."

"I'm impressed," Jade said generously. "At least Grey's not making Jeanie order the arrangements, like most bosses make their secretaries do for their wives and girlfriends."

Mariah agreed, secretly pleased that he was taking time from his busy schedule to contact the florist personally. "I told Jeanie to leave him a note to please stop with the flowers. I guess he hasn't gotten the message yet."

"Or he's ignoring it, which is probably the case." Jade winked an emerald green eye at her, which matched her bright and splashy summer outfit. "Men don't like to be turned down or dumped."

"I didn't dump him." She hated the way that sounded. "I just thought it best if we go our separate ways."

"It's the same thing, Riah." Jade plucked the little white envelope nestled within the tulips. "Let's see what lover boy has to say this time."

Mariah snatched the envelope from her sister's grasp. With every arrangement that had been delivered Grey had attached a note. The written contents ranged from sweet and romantic, to steamy and erotic, to silly and humorous. Each envelope was a special treat because she didn't know what to expect.

The anticipation of wondering what this envelope contained made her feel giddy. "In case you didn't notice, that's my name on the envelope." Giving Jade a tight smile, she tore open the flap and withdrew a florist card with a border of fancy hearts and flowers and Grey's bold writing in the center.

Jade leaned over her chair and read the inscription out loud. "Tu-lips are better than one. Always yours, Grey." She chuckled and shook her head. "The man has a way with words."

Always yours, not love, she thought with a heart-wrenching pang. Tucking the card back in its envelope, she put it in her desk drawer with the other cards Grey had sent.

Jade moved to the front of Mariah's desk. "I have to admit, all this is kinda romantic."

"Flowers don't change the way I feel about our relationship."

"No, but it's flattering to know someone wants you bad enough to go to this extreme." Jade dipped her nose into an arrangement of cream-colored roses and inhaled deeply. "I have to tell you, sis, I didn't think Grey had it in him to be so romantic."

Mariah caught herself when she would have defended Grey. In his own way he'd been romantic, but never mushy or sappy in his pursuit. His approach was always straightforward, earthy and sensual, cutting through any frivolous preliminaries to get what he wanted. Truthfully, that had excited her more than any flowery words or token gifts ever would have.

"Is Richard romantic?" Jade asked, pulling Mariah from her thoughts.

Mariah glanced at Jade, who stood next to her chair, and tried to find an apt but polite description for the man she was dating. "Richard is…nice."

"Nice?" Jade looked at her as if she'd fallen off her rocker. "Tropical fish are nice, Riah. Cupcakes are nice. Richard is a gorgeous male specimen."

And Mariah had begun to notice that he acted like he knew it, too.

Jade perched herself on Mariah's desk and crossed her legs. "Is he a good kisser?"

"He's okay." Richard kissed like he was in a hurry to move on, leaving her little time to catch her breath or protest his groping hands.

Jade leaned closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Have you guys, well, you know?"

The thought of doing you-know-what with Richard left her unmoved, although he seemed intent on reaching that goal. She didn't know how long she could hold him off without coming outright and bruising that ego of his. "No."

"No?" Her sister sounded disappointed and a little worried. "He's not gay, is he?"

"He's perfectly straight, and he's got more hands at the end of a date than an octopus has tentacles." She sighed and rubbed her temple. "I'm not ready for an intimate relationship with someone new yet, and I don't think it's going to work with Richard."

"Well, could you wait until the end of next week to tell him that?" She clasped her hands together and gave Mariah a look of sheer desperation. "Please?"

Her sister didn't beg often. "Why?"

"Because by then we'll be paid in full for the interior work on his offices."

Mariah understood, though she didn't like playing Richard that way. "Fine. We're going to Dad's birthday party together, but I'm ending things after that. I don't want to string him along."

A voice cleared in the direction of Mariah's office door, and both women swiveled their heads in that direction. A young, petite woman with auburn hair dressed in an elegant silk pantsuit stood in the threshold holding a small, femininely wrapped box with a lace bow tied around it.

"Excuse me," she said, stepping more fully into the room. "Is there a Mariah Stevens here?"

Mariah sat up straighter. "Uh, that's me."

"This is for you." The other woman's smile was dazzling as she handed Mariah the gift from across her desk. "We don't normally deliver our merchandise, but your boyfriend wanted this to be a surprise, and he wanted to be sure you received it."

"Not to mention he probably paid you five times what it would have cost to pay for a courier," Jade mumbled under her breath.

Mariah discreetly pinched her sister's calf. Jade yelped and scooted out of reach. Luckily the other woman hadn't heard Jade's comment.

"Thank you very much for bringing it by," Mariah said graciously.

"It was my pleasure." The woman's eyes sparkled. "Enjoy your gift. Your boyfriend selected it himself."

"Where's it from?" Jade asked once the woman left the office.

Mariah read the gold foil sticker on the corner of the package. "P.J.'s Lingerie and Things."

"Sounds interesting. Hurry up and open it," Jade said anxiously.

Mariah hesitated, not sure if this gift was something she wanted to share with Jade. But her sister didn't look as though she was going to budge until she saw what was in the box.

Before she lost the nerve she untied the lacy bow and ripped off the paper. She pulled off the lid and separated the paisley print tissue surrounding the contents.

Mariah stared, stunned.

"Oh my God!" Jade gasped, a huge grin spreading across her face. "The man certainly knows his stuff!"

The "stuff" Grey had selected consisted of a black satin and lace garter belt, three pairs of black, sexy, sheer-as-a-sigh panties and three sets of sheer black, thigh-high silk stockings with a delicate band of lace encircling the tops. One pair had a black seam running down the center back, another pair had a smoky hue and the last pair had a delicate butterfly embroidered into the stocking on the outside left ankle. Two tiny rhinestones winked at the ends of its antennae.

Swallowing the thick knot in her throat, Mariah retrieved the full-size envelope nestled within the folds of satin, silk and lace. While her sister oohed and ahhed over the lingerie and complimented Grey's taste, Mariah leaned back in her chair, slid open the envelope and read Grey's message inside the enclosed floral embossed card.

You seem to have taken a liking to pretty lingerie. Let me tell you a fantasy of mine, of you wearing black garters and stockings and a wispy pair of panties beneath a sexy, short dress. It's night, and although there are people around, no one can see us in our private corner as I caress the smooth skin of your thighs where the stockings end, and touch you where you're soft, warm and sensitive.

Remember the fantasy…

Always yours, Grey

Mariah groaned, her face heating as Grey's provocative words stimulated her feminine senses, leaving her in a frustrated state of desire. He knew how to get her where she was weakest. He had no mercy.

"That good, huh?" Jade asked, a half grin on her face.

Mariah nodded, pressing her thighs together to ease the ache between.

Jade tried to peek at the card, but Mariah quickly stuffed it back in its envelope. Jade pouted. "You're not gonna share, are you?"

Mariah shook her head, still unable to speak. She cleared her throat and reclaimed her box of lingerie, trying her best to put Grey's erotic fantasy from her mind. "What am I going to do with this stuff and all these flowers?" she asked for a lack of something better to say.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Jade said, sliding off the desk and sashaying toward the door, "because it never lasts for long."

Grey recognized the hungry gleam in Mariah's date's eyes, a predatory look that told the male population around him that he was going to get lucky tonight with the woman on his arm. If they hadn't already slept together-and Grey didn't think they had by the stiff way Mariah stood next to the tall blonde-then Mr. GQ planned on it happening that evening.

Not if I can prevent it, Grey thought, tamping the savage urge to plant his fist into the lawyer's face. Jim Stevens's fancy black-tie birthday bash was hardly the place to stake his claim on Mariah.

Tugging on the black bow tie around his neck, he watched the pair from across the crowded ballroom at the Hilton. They stood in the reception line to greet Mariah's father, and her mother, Donna. Laughter and conversation, along with dinner music, filtered throughout the room. White-jacketed waiters served appetizers and champagne from sterling silver trays. Men stood in groups talking, while the women in all their finery and glittering jewels moved about the room, some greeting friends and some blatantly checking out the male species.

He should be mingling, saying hello to acquaintances and colleagues and using the gathering to mix business and pleasure. He always managed to drum up potential clients for his security company at parties.

Unfortunately, socializing required ignoring Mariah and the blonde hovering beside her, and he found he couldn't take his eyes off her, or more specifically, her exquisite dress. Body-skimming black lace, lined for opacity but giving the first impression that the dress was see-through, hugged her curves from breast to midthigh. Short sleeves fell off the shoulder, enhancing the swell of her breasts and the scalloped hem of the dress gave way to long legs encased in sheer black stockings and four-inch heels. Grey stared hard at those stockings, but at this distance he couldn't tell if they were one of the pair he'd bought her. He planned to find out. Soon.

Mr. GQ bent his head next to Mariah and said something that made her tilt her head back and smile. Her silky hair swirled around her shoulders and settled like a soft cloud around her face. Mr. GQ pressed his hand to Mariah's spine and guided her three steps ahead in her father's reception line.

Grey's gut clenched at that intimate touch, and he thrust his fisted hands into his pants pockets.

"She does look stunning, don't you think?"

Grey glanced at the woman standing beside him, wearing a black velvet sheath that displayed her ample charms. He met cobalt blue eyes brimming with amusement, and scowled. "You're corrupting her, Jade."

Jade laughed, the sound throaty enough to draw the attention of a few nearby males. "And it's so much fun. My straitlaced sister has hatched from her cocoon."

He grunted a reply. Translated, it would have burned her ears.

She stopped a passing waiter and retrieved a glass of champagne. Taking a sip, she regarded him speculatively over the crystal rim. "You mean to tell me, honestly, that you don't like her new look?"

Admittedly, Mariah's new look was starting to grow on him. And just thinking of the possibility of her wearing the lingerie he'd sent her beneath that dress was enough to stiffen certain parts of his anatomy. "I liked her fine the way she was, before you decided to play fairy godmother."

Jade grinned as if he'd complimented her. "She needed a change, especially if she expects to catch herself a husband."

Grey looked around for a waiter. He needed a drink. "I'm surprised you don't have a list of bachelors lined up for her," he commented dryly.

She waved her near-empty champagne glass toward her sister. "I thought Richard was a decent catch, but Mariah's being difficult."

His jaw dropped, though he told himself he shouldn't have been surprised. "You set her up?"

She shrugged and drank the last of her champagne.

"Jade, I'm gonna strangle you."

"Naw," she said, batting her lashes at him. "You like me too much."

Despite Jade's brash ways and smart mouth, he did like her. What she needed, he decided, was a man to soften her up a bit.

Jade placed a hand on his jacketed arm, her expression suddenly sincere. "Grey, Mariah's crazy about you, I won't lie about that, but if you aren't going to marry her, you need to let her go."

He couldn't, even though he knew Jade was right. The thought of never seeing Mariah again was tantamount to carving his heart out of his chest.

"I think I'll go meet her new beau." Flashing Jade a smile, Grey strode confidently toward Mariah.

"Men," Grey heard Jade mutter behind him.

Mariah turned, and her gaze fell on him as he approached. She looked startled, torn and a little wary.

The reception line had ended, and the guests around Jim and Donna were breaking up to find their seats for dinner. He'd almost reached Mariah when Jim saw him. Grey couldn't very well ignore the guest of honor.

Grey shook the older man's hand while watching out of the corner of his eye as Mr. GQ led Mariah in the opposite direction. Something at her ankle sparkled, rhinestones, and Grey knew a moment of supreme satisfaction.

He'd catch up to her later.

Dinner was announced, and Grey found himself seated next to a young woman with short black hair wearing a dress cut lower than legally should have been deemed decent. She had come on to him the moment he'd sat down, making it very clear she was single, available and very interested in him, despite his subtle hints that he was not. Her foot was continually getting tangled around his, and at one point she'd even pressed her hand high on his thigh and squeezed meaningfully, causing him to choke on his chicken.

As soon as the dessert plates were cleared, Grey politely excused himself, ignoring the woman's disappointed pout. It was time to find Mariah before she left the party with Mr. GQ.

He strolled around for about ten minutes, searching the mingling crowd for a blonde in an eye-catching dress and thigh-high stockings he'd bought specifically for her. That she'd worn them gave him hope.

Dining music was replaced with something more lively and upbeat for dancing. The parquet dance floor filled up fast, and the chandeliers were dimmed in lieu of flashing strobes. Finally, he spotted Mariah and her date standing in a darkened area of the ballroom. A large potted palm with twinkling lights gave them a modicum of privacy, and Mr. GQ was taking advantage of it. The other man was stroking her cheek with his fingers and subtly easing her deeper into the shadows, his head dipping toward hers.

He strode toward them determinedly, his skin heating with jealousy. Cool it, Nichols. As much as you'd like to tighten that bow around Mr. GQ's neck, Mariah wouldn't appreciate the scene.

"Mariah?" Grey said as he neared, causing her date to stiffen and pull away when he would have planted one on Mariah's lips. "I thought that was you!"

Mariah looked at first startled, then relieved by his interruption. She moved out of the shadows and into the open.

The blond man turned and narrowed his gaze on Grey, obviously irritated by his timely intrusion.

Grey ignored him and gave Mariah a wide grin. "It's great to see you, Mariah. It seems like forever, doesn't it? I see P.J.'s delivery made it to you just fine," he added casually, noting that the private exchange was lost on Mr. GQ.

Her gaze widened in shock and mortification, but she managed to recover her composure quickly. "I, uh, yes, I received it just fine. Thank you."

"It was all my pleasure." Literally. He turned to the blonde and thrust out his hand congenially. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Grey Nichols, a good friend of Mariah's."

"Richard Sawyer. Nice to meet you." Reluctantly he shook Grey's offered hand. Both of their grips were strong, with an undercurrent of silent rivalry. "Any friend of Mariah's is a friend of mine."

Sap, Grey thought, wondering what Mariah saw in the other man. A marriage proposal? He shuddered at the thought.

"You wouldn't mind if I stole Mariah for a few moments for a quick dance, do you?" Grey asked pleasantly, making it difficult for the other man to refuse without making him look like a jealous lover. "To catch up on old times?"

A tight smile claimed Richard's lips. "I suppose I could let her out of my sight for one short dance."

Don't count on it, buddy. "I'll bring her back just the way you gave her to me."

Grey led a silent and obviously fuming Mariah to the crowded dance floor. A slow song played and he pulled her unyielding body into his arms, relishing the feel of her soft, lush curves pressed against him and the heady scent of her perfume.

She wouldn't look at him, and he noted the tight, angry line of her jaw. "You didn't think you were going to get away with not dancing with me, did you?" He tried to inject a teasing note into his voice.

She met his gaze, her blue eyes glacial. "In case you didn't notice, I'm here with someone else."

Instinctively he tightened his arm around her waist, "Oh, I noticed all right." Disdain coated his words.

"But that didn't stop you from pulling that macho act with Richard."

He didn't think she'd appreciate him reminding her of the relief on her face when he'd interrupted their little interlude.

As they continued to sway to the music, the tension gradually drained from her body, allowing her to lean more naturally into Grey. "I came to this party with Richard. I shouldn't be dancing with other men." She sounded as though she were trying to convince herself of that fact.

"Mr. GQ doesn't seem to be too lonely without you." He glanced to the right, and Mariah's gaze followed his. The aggressive woman who'd been Grey's dinner companion was now busy working on Richard, who didn't seem to mind the obvious passes the voluptuous woman was making.

"I can hardly blame him, after what you just pulled,"

Mariah said, shifting her gaze back to Grey's. Confusing emotions brightened her eyes. "When did you become so callous?"

"I'm a desperate man," he said softly, truthfully. "When did your taste in men take a drastic turn for the worse?"

She bristled and tried to put some distance between their bodies but he refused to loosen his hold. "Who I date is no longer any of your concern."

"Is Richard marriage material?"

Hurt flashed in her eyes, cutting him deeper than he thought possible. "More so than you'll ever be."

He deserved that, he thought, but he didn't like it. The melody ended and segued into a fast song. When Mariah pushed slightly at his shoulders, he let her slip from his grasp and watched her walk away, spine straight and head held high. His gaze dropped to the way her dress outlined her bottom, and a surge of heat flared deep in his belly. Any sane man would cut his losses and move on. His sanity had fled the night she'd gathered up her clothes and left him.

Mariah moved through the throng of guests and made her way out the double French doors leading to a wide veranda that overlooked a garden and elaborate fountain. Finding a secluded, shadowed spot away from the other couples enjoying the sultry evening, she leaned against the cool metal railing and drew a deep breath.

She couldn't stop trembling and it was all Grey's fault. She was furious with him for his behavior. And disturbed that he still had the ability to arouse her so quickly and easily. Dragging her fingers through her hair, she tried to dismiss the way her body still throbbed from the pure torture of being pressed against Grey's.

"So, have you and the lawyer slept together?"

She jumped at the deep voice behind her, not surprised that Grey had sought her out. The man didn't handle rejection well and had the tenacity of a pit bull. "That's none of your business," she said, not bothering to turn around.

His hands curled around the railing on either side of her. The length of him brushed her spine, bottom and thighs. Her heart rate accelerated and a honeyed warmth flowed through her veins. She resisted the impulse to lean back into his heat.

His head lowered to her ear, and the fine hairs at the nape of her neck tingled. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"My guess is that you haven't, but not for a lack of Mr. GQ wanting to." His voice was a low, husky murmur.

Mariah swallowed hard, astonished by Grey's perception. Their clandestine setting and his nearness excited her, and she valiantly searched for the fortitude to stop this craziness.

"I'd bet a hundred bucks he's gonna make his move tonight when he takes you home."

She turned around, a smart retort on her lips-which instantly died the moment she met his gaze. His gold-brown eyes glittered in the moonlight-seductive, hot and wild.

She shivered. She knew that look. Intimately.

The slow, lazy sweep of his gaze took in her hair, her parted lips and the swells of her breasts rising from the bodice of her dress, then back to her face. A wicked smile stretched his mouth. "By the way, you look great tonight."

A melting sensation rippled the length of her. "Grey, you have to stop this," she whispered. Because I don't have the strength to resist you.

"I can't." He swore and, grasping her arms, backed her into a dark, private corner of the veranda behind a leafy, potted ficus tree. Faster than she could gather her wits, his legs bracketed hers and a hand slid from her knee, up her thigh and beneath the hem of her dress.

She gasped in shock, but couldn't move away. "Grey, what are you doing?"

But it was shamelessly obvious what he was doing. His fingers touched the elastic band of her stockings and followed a satin strap to the garter belt she'd donned. The one he'd bought for her.

His grin was pure, unadulterated sin as he whispered, "Remember the fantasy…"