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  I straightened my back. I examined my dress, as if checking for wrinkles. I smoothed my glossy hair down over my shoulders.

  "You need to go to the dining hall," was all I said.

  When he didn't move, I gave Damon what I hoped was a look of impatience and not desperation.

  "Well?" I asked.

  "I don't know where the dining hall is," he said easily. "You'll have to lead the way."

  I turned on my heel and stalked off without a word.

  I know he followed me, because I could feel his eyes on my backside the entire way.

  Chapter Two

  Damon stretched out his long legs and leaned back in his chair. The keynote speaker was still thanking the long list of sponsors. We hadn't even gotten the first course yet and already he was fidgeting.

  "This party is a bore," he said. "Who decided to throw an event for medical whatever stuff?"

  I clenched my jaw. "That would be me."

  "That explains it," he said.

  "And what does that mean?" I asked.

  "You wouldn't know a good time if it hit you in the face." He smirked. "You should come to another of Cam's parties. I'll show you a real good time, sweetness."

  I ignored his last comment, taking a few seconds to calm myself. Dealing with Damon brought my inner rage monster closer and closer to the surface.

  "This is a corporate networking event," I said. "It's not supposed to be fun."

  "Mission accomplished."

  "Faith is an amazing event planner." Hope jumped in before I could smash my fist into Damon's face. "She executes the client's needs perfectly."

  "Exactly," I said. "As long as the client is happy, I'm happy."

  "You're happy hobnobbing with stuck-up suits?" he asked.

  I almost smiled despite myself. That was exactly how I described the usual attendees in my head. I wasn't going to let Damon score a point.

  "This is my job, and I'm damned good at it," I said.

  "I'm not saying you aren't good at it," he replied. "I'm saying it's a boring thing to be good at."

  I screamed internally.

  "Why did you decide to throw this event?" Ian asked, making polite conversation to keep us from engaging in an inevitable bloodbath.

  I swallowed down the scream and turned to him.

  "It's purely a public relations move," I said, purposely not looking at Damon. "We used to stick with media companies, non-profits and consumer packaged goods. My boss wants us to start expanding the industries we're involved with. That's why we're working with a data and insight products company."

  Hope and Ian nodded politely with confused expressions on their faces. Damon's attention was already elsewhere, eyeing one of the several open bars.

  "Anyway," I said, wanting to change the subject to something less boring. Damon was infuriating but he was also right. And I hated him for being right. "These events are pretty much just an excuse for people to get up on stage and talk about how special and amazing their current research is, and to present awards to people who've done nothing of note except bribe the judges. The whole arrangement is pretty fake."

  "I didn't realize you were so jaded," Hope said.

  "I'm no longer the bright-eyed intern full of hopes and dreams," I replied.

  A mole-faced man in a three piece suit appeared out of the corner of my eye. I stood up from my table just in time to greet him.

  "Gerald! How wonderful to see you again. How are the kids? Is Jamie still in med school?"

  He flashed a smarmy smile and shook my outstretched hand. He was a regular at these types of events, always managing to score an invitation even when it wasn't in his field. I always assumed he did it for the free drinks.

  "Faith, you still working these events? I thought you'd be running the place already."

  "I've just been promoted to senior event logistics specialist." I aimed for a demur smile.

  "Humph. I assumed you'd be higher up in your career by now."

  I bit my tongue and kept the polite smile on my face.

  "And yes, Jamie's still in med school," he continued. "Last semester. She's already been accepted into a residency."

  "Good for her."

  From the look on Gerald's face he was clearly comparing his daughter, the doctor, to me, the girl who ran around making sure there was a napkin on every plate.

  "The first course will be served soon, if you don't mind mingling for now," I told him. "I've put you up front near the bar." Because I knew he would have insisted on being placed there if I hadn't.

  He patted my arm and chuckled. "That's why you're my favorite."

  I returned it with a polite laugh as we said our farewells.

  "For someone who hates these events, you sure do seem chipper," Hope said when he was gone.

  "Part of the job," I said.

  "So you're good at faking it, is what you're saying?" Damon interjected with a grin.

  I snapped my head around to glare at him. He laughed.

  "I'm going to hit the men's room." Damon stood from the table. "I hope I don't miss anything riveting while I'm gone," he said, before sauntering away.

  I clenched my butter knife in my fist. "I'm going to kill that man."

  "Please don't," Ian said, amused. "You'll get blood stains all over this nice white tablecloth."

  Some of the tension left my shoulders.

  "I know he's a handful, but he just likes to see you all riled you up," Ian continued. "It's his thing."

  I groaned. "Don't tell me your brother sees me as some kind of challenge. I'm not playing hard to get. I honestly hate his guts."

  Ian grinned. "That's why he likes you so much."

  "Likes to torture me, you mean," I muttered under my breath.

  The speaker finished his speech and sat down. Wait staff began bringing out the bread and butter. We had fifteen minutes until the next person went up on stage.

  Ian and Hope chatted to each other quietly, holding hands discreetly under the table. I kept an eye on the room. I noticed some of the tables were already out of water. I flagged down one of the servers to make sure the pitchers were refilled as soon as possible.

  Those were the kinds of minuscule details most people missed. No one noticed when an event went well. They only noticed when something went wrong.

  It was my job to make sure that didn't happen.

  We were already on the soup course when I realized Damon wasn't back yet. An itchy sort of sensation went up my spine. What if he had snuck into the kitchens to steal the booze? What if he was hitting on the impressionable young women who were working as wait staff? There were dozens of things that man could be getting up to, and none of them were good.

  "I need to go check on something," I announced to the table. I placed my cloth napkin on my chair and walked calmly to the nearest exit.

  My first instinct was to check the kitchens, but as I made my way towards the back of the building, I stopped in mid-stride. My mouth popped open when I saw Damon.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Huh?" Damon turned his head a fraction of an inch. He barely glanced in my direction, continuing to type on his phone.

  "You're sitting on a tabletop multi-touch tablet!"

  He glanced down briefly at oversized tablet he was perched on. His butt was pressed against the icon for a spreadsheet app.

  "What the hell is a tabletop whatever-touch tablet?" he asked.

  "It's not a place for you to sit! It's a workstation, not an armchair!"

  "I know it's not an armchair." He lifted his sparkling eyes to mine. "You just told me it's a table."

  My breath hitched, caught by a mesmerizing green. The corner of Damon's lips tilted into a smirk. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't make words escape my mouth.

  He looked back down at his phone, dismissing me. That broke the spell. I inhaled a shaky breath.

  "It's a seven thousand dollar tablet," I managed to say. "Get. Off."

  He ignored me for several mom
ents while I fumed. Damon had three seconds before I physically hauled him away. One. Two.

  He hopped off. I darted over to make sure it was unharmed, running my hands over the smooth surface. No cracks, thank god.

  "What would make you think something that looks like a gigantic smartphone would be a good place to sit?" I asked.

  "Don't get your panties in a bunch, sweetheart," he replied.

  I struggled to tame my inner rage monster. I couldn't help snapping. "You're not allowed to think about my panties."

  "No? Can I think about what's underneath?"

  My cheeks flushed. "Go back to the dining hall, Damon."

  "Nah. It's more fun out here."

  "How is it fun? There's nothing to do. All the vendors are gone. Everyone's inside eating."

  "Not everyone."

  "I told you, you're not allowed to flirt with my intern."

  "I wasn't talking about your intern."

  His stare pierced through me. I pressed my lips together, ignoring my flaming cheeks. "Go sit with your brother and stop making a nuisance of yourself."

  "I don't want to sit next to Ian."

  "Why not?"

  He stared at me silently for a few moments before shrugging, a deceptively casual gesture.

  "Too sappy. My brother and your sister are in that gross honeymoon stage. Makes me nauseous."

  "Oh." I understood. I was happy for Hope, but I couldn't wait until the infatuation phase wore off. I supposed it made sense Damon would feel the same way. "I get that. I can try and sit you somewhere else." Although why he had even come in the first place was a mystery. Teasing me couldn't have possibly been more fun than partying with groupies, or whatever it was Damon did in his free time.

  "Nah." He shoved his phone into his pocket. "I'll suck it up. Besides, there's free drinks in the dining hall, yeah?"

  As I had thought, the only thing the rock star cared about was the booze.

  I waved my hand. "Go nuts. It's all on the sponsor's dime."

  "I don't see you with a drink."

  "I can't. I'm working."

  "Maybe you should bend the rules a little. A drink might make you loosen up."

  "I'm plenty loose."

  He smirked.

  "Shut up." I gritted my teeth so hard I thought they would shatter. "That's not what I meant."

  "Whatever you say, sweetness. I bet you've never done a spontaneous thing in your life."

  "I have so."

  "Name one thing you've done in the last year that wasn't planned out and organized down to the last detail."

  "I—" I frowned. I couldn't actually think of anything. "It's my job to plan," I countered. "I'm an event planner. It's what I do."

  "Sit on this table thing."

  I blinked at him. "What?"

  "Sit down," he repeated, pointing to the seven thousand dollar oversized tablet. "It's just us here. No one will know."

  "I'm not going to sit on it."

  "Don't you want to prove me wrong?"

  A spark of indignation flared up inside me. I did. I so wanted to prove him wrong. I didn't want him to win.

  I wasn't uptight, dammit.

  I snuck a glance around the hall. There was only the two of us.

  "Fine." I pressed my palms into the cool top of the tablet. Anxiety raced through me. What if I broke it?

  Damon's amused face made my decision. He didn't think I was going to do it.

  With a small hop, I perched my butt on the edge of the tablet. I raised an eyebrow at him, feigning calm, even as my heart raced.

  "That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" he asked.

  "You're an idiot," I told him.

  I braced myself to hop off.

  He placed both hands on my thighs.

  All air left my lungs.

  The heat of his palms burned into me, even though my dress.

  Thank god I had a conservative hemline. If his skin had actually touched mine I would have burst into flames then and there.

  "What are you doing?" I asked needlessly.

  "Feeling you up in public."

  I made an undignified sound in the back of my throat. My cheeks burned red.

  "Never done that before either?" He leaned forward. I froze, lost in his eyes, less devilish now, more mischievous. He avoided my mouth, instead brushing cheek to cheek, putting his lips to my ear.

  "You look even sexier when you're all flustered like this," he said.

  "I'm not flustered," I denied automatically.

  My shaky voice betrayed me.

  He hummed an amused sound. His hands ran a slow trail up my outer thighs until he was griping my hips. His thumbs rubbed small circles in the hollows.

  The flames inside me rose higher. My nipples peaked under my dress.

  With a swift motion he lifted me an inch and slid me off the tablet. As I was set down on unsteady feet, I clung to his tattooed arms. His deliciously muscled arms. He was just as firm and solid as I'd expected.

  Not that I'd been thinking about his arms. Or his muscles.

  I stepped to the side, twisting out from under his grip. I closed my eyes. I breathed in. And out. Calm. Serene.

  I opened my eyes. "There, you happy now? Will you please go back to the dining hall?"

  He eyed me up and down, slowly sweeping up my legs, lingering on my modest cleavage, no doubt taking in my hardened nipples, until he met my gaze. A full body shiver went through me. I hid it by folding my arms across my chest.

  "That was too tame," he declared. "Not nearly spontaneous enough."

  With an exasperated noise, I tapped my foot. "This isn't some kind of competition."

  "Take off your panties."

  I choked quietly. "Excuse me?"

  "Take off your panties," he repeated, eyes twinkling.

  "I don't think so."

  "Shame. I'd love to see what you're wearing underneath that tight dress of yours."

  My insides tingled at the thought of him seeing under my dress. I took a deep, cleansing breath, resisting the urge to punch him in the mouth.

  Or throw myself at him and devour him.

  As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, Damon threw me a wicked grin and sauntered off.

  I waited until he was out of sight, then let out a pained groan.

  I was in a world of trouble.

  Chapter Three

  "Thank you so much for coming. It was wonderful to meet you. Congratulations on the award. Hope to see you at the next event."

  I smiled and shook hands with each guest as they left the venue. They were happy, stuffed with food and tipsy from all the alcohol they'd consumed.

  "Another successful night?" My sister appeared at my side with an armful of tablecloths.

  Now that the event was over, we had to clean up. Tablecloths had to be sent to a laundering service, the tables and chairs had to be put away, and all the signage had to be removed.

  My sister had helped out long enough. She'd been working since eight in the morning, just like I had.

  "Thanks again for helping out, Hope. You can head home with Ian now. I'll take care of the rest."

  "You sure?" Her eyes shined with worry.

  "I'll be fine. Go and finish your date. Thank you for helping me today."

  She threw her arms around me and squeezed, before dashing off to be with her doting boyfriend.

  It was going to be a long night. My boss was out schmoozing with the guest speakers, having arranged to take them to a fancy dinner. My fourth and only intern had disappeared somewhere. Probably with Damon, I reasoned with a scowl.

  I headed back into the dining room to pull the tablecloths off each table and put them into bags. The laundry service would pick them up at the back entrance tomorrow.

  I still had half the room to go when a hand shoved itself in front of my face. I started and jumped back. I ran into a firm chest.

  "Don't you think it's time to take a rest?" Damon asked.

  I turned to find him holding out a shot glass
of clear liquid, with one in each hand. My belly immediately tightened, remembering his request to take off my panties. I steeled myself.

  "The bar is supposed to be closed," I said.

  "I'm persuasive."

  "I can see that," I said. "Didn't have enough to drink during the event? You need to continue getting hammered after it's over?"

  "This one is for you." He gestured to the shot glass in his right hand. His large, strong, callused hand.

  "I'm working," I said.

  "You said it yourself. The event's over."

  "I still have to clean up. By myself, may I add. Did you and my intern go off to screw in a closet somewhere? Is that why she disappeared?"

  He tilted his head, confused. "I have no idea where your intern is." He looked around the room. "How about this. You do a shot and I'll stay to help you clean up."

  "Right. You'll help me clean. Have you ever done an honest day's work in your life?"

  "Honest work? No." He grinned. "But I'm a strapping young lad. I can stack those tables and chairs away easier than you can."

  I scrutinized him. "You really want to stay and help me clean up?"

  "If you do a shot."

  "Why are you so hell bent on getting me drunk?" I raised an eyebrow. "Planning on taking advantage of me?"

  "I would never." He looked offended. "You're just so tense it's giving me a headache. You need to let your hair down a little. "

  "I've been on my feet for sixteen hours, Damon. My hair is a metaphorical frazzled mess."

  "You won't be drinking alone." He lifted the second shot glass. "I brought one for me, too."

  "You're not going to leave me alone until I drink this, are you?"

  "Do I need to dare you?" His eyes narrowed, devilishly amused. "I know how much you hate backing down."

  With an exasperated sigh, I took the shot from him and knocked it back. It burned the whole way down, but I kept a straight face.

  Damon drank his down quick. He didn't grimace either.

  I pointed to the tables that already had the tablecloths removed. "Go fold those and put them in the corner. Then go stack up all the chairs."

  "Sir, yes sir." He gave me a salute.

  I was a bit of a lightweight, so even one shot gave me a small buzz. I had to admit, the tension in my shoulders lessened. My feet stopped aching in my pumps, the Diana Six brand shoes I bought because they were supposed to be like walking on clouds.