Enemies and Playmates
Read Enemies and Playmates Online
Authors: Darcia Helle
Enemies and Playmates
by Darcia Helle
© Copyright 2009 Darcia Helle
www.QuietFuryBooks.com
License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold, copied, distributed, or reproduced for any purpose.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
This ebook contains bonus material!
1
Gina hopped off the barstool. Perfect perpetually tanned legs, a teasing smile, dark eyes that lit up beneath long dark lashes. That was Gina. She not only turned heads, she stopped men in their tracks and left them drooling and speechless. “Let’s dance,” she said.
Carrie slipped off her stool. Short tousled bleached blonde hair, big blue eyes. Part hippie, part techno geek. She grabbed Lauren’s hand. “C’mon,” she said. “This is a great song.”
“Not yet,” Lauren said. “You guys go ahead.”
Gina sighed. “Sometimes you’re so uptight.”
Lauren picked at her nail polish as her two friends disappeared onto the crowded dance floor. The DJ kept the crowd moving with a contagious dance beat. Carrie’s platinum hair glowed under the flashing lights. More than a few men’s heads turned in their direction. Lauren looked away. Gina was right. Sometimes she was too uptight.
Around her, sexy young women in tiny skirts were inundated with attention by hopeful young men. They were all so at ease. Would she ever feel that way?
Lauren silently chastised herself. One of these days she’d throw caution to the wind and do something wild and crazy. She rolled her eyes. That would happen right about the time flying monkeys took over the world.
The guy two stools over was slowly leaning closer to her. The heavy scent of his spicy cologne stung her nostrils. She sensed his come-on before he spoke.
“Hello,” he said. “How are you this evening?”
Lauren mustered a smile. “I’m fine thanks. You?”
“Doing great,” he replied through a toothy grin. “Even better since you got here.”
Nothing original about this guy. He had short sandy hair and pale blue eyes. He wore a baggy designer t-shirt and baggy faded jeans. His line was dull. His look was dull. Lauren turned toward the dance floor in search of her friends.
“Can I buy you a drink?” the guy asked. His eyes remained fixed on her breasts.
“I’m all set,” Lauren replied. “Thanks anyway.”
He motioned to the empty spot on the bar in front of her. “You aren’t drinking?”
“I’m driving,” she said. She wasn’t, though he didn’t need to know that.
“But the night is young. One drink won’t hurt you.”
His voice had a cocky edge. Lauren shook her head. “No, I’d rather not.”
He shrugged. “My name’s Dean.”
“I’m Lauren.” She averted her eyes, picked at her nail polish. Were Gina and Carrie ever coming back or was she destined to spend the entire evening with Dean leering over her shoulder?
“Want to go someplace quiet?” Dean asked.
Lauren would have laughed had she not had polite etiquette programmed into her since birth. The guy offers to buy her a drink and now thinks she should be so flattered that she’ll fall right into bed with him? A few women probably did, though she couldn’t imagine why.
Lauren said, “I’m here with friends.”
“Yeah? Where are they?”
“On the dance floor.”
“Want to join them?”
“No thanks.”
Dean shrugged again. “Your loss.”
Lauren ignored his sarcasm, as well as his look of disdain. She turned her attention to the music and the people dancing. The DJ had switched to hip hop, though the beat hadn’t changed much. Lauren spotted Gina gyrating around two guys whose tongues practically hung to the floor. No sign of Carrie.
Dean cast a sideways glance, got up, and walked away. He repositioned himself toward the end of the bar, beside a blonde with silicone boobs jutting out of her lacy top. Lauren was glad to be rid of him.
Maybe she should swallow her nerves and get up on the dance floor with Gina and Carrie. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t dance. She did it all the time in her bedroom, when no one was watching. But it took her awhile to work up the nerve to dance in public. The night was young. People weren’t drunk enough yet.
She turned away from the dance floor and surveyed the crowd. She spotted him instantly. He was leaning casually against a pole, his black leather jacket the only rigid part of him. He was tall and muscular and unbelievably sexy. And he was staring right at her.
Lauren quickly looked away. Her breath caught in her throat and heat rose to her cheeks. She tried to concentrate on the music but, even with her back to him, she felt his eyes burning into her. He was by far the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Why had he been staring? Was he still? Why did she want that answer to be yes?
She turned her head a bit and easily caught a glimpse. He was still by the pole, still staring. His face was without expression, his stance casual. He made no move toward her, yet she was overpowered by his presence.
Lauren rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms and got the bartender’s attention. “Could I have a shot of tequila please?”
The two minutes the bartender took to pour her drink could have been an eternity. Lauren shifted her weight on the barstool, afraid to turn back toward the man in the black leather jacket. Was it the fact that he’d been looking at her that was making her uncomfortable? Or was it the thought that he might turn away? Maybe a little of both.
Had she been more like Carrie or Gina, she would have ordered a second drink and had it sent to the guy. Or boldly walked over and introduced herself. But she was not like them. For many reasons, she lacked that kind of confidence. Not to mention the minor issue of her total lack of trust where men were concerned.
Lauren swallowed the shot in one gulp. Her throat burned. Good. Maybe it would relax her. Maybe it would give her some courage.
She sensed his closeness before she turned. His erotic scent filled the air. Her palms began to sweat and her cheeks flushed. She took a deep breath and glanced to her right.
His vivid brown eyes caught her off guard. Such a deep shade of brown, they were almost black. He met her eyes, didn’t blink. But she was not as skilled as he and she had to look away.
“I’m sorry for staring,” he said. “Well, no, I’m really not. I’m just sorry for being so blatant about it.”
Lauren chuckled at his honesty. His voice was every bit as erotic as he. He smiled an easy, relaxed smile. He radiated a confidence that somehow managed to lack arrogance. Lauren’s skin grew warmer. She silently cursed the blush she couldn’t control.
“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.
“No.” Lauren gestured to the dance floor. “I’m here with some friends.”
He touched the stool beside her. “Then can I sit here and buy you a drink?”
Lauren hesitated, her voice lost somewhere deep in his eyes. He grinned and said, “One drink? Then if you want me to get lost, I promise I will.”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve got a deal.”
He slid onto the stool. “My name’s Jesse Ryder.”
“Lauren Covington.”
“Covington? Any relation to Alex Covington?”
“He’s my father. Why?”
“I’ve been doing some work for him…”
Lauren’s stomach churned. She looked down at her hands and picked at her nail polish. It would figure. The first man she’d been tempted to let her guard down with and he worked for her father. He was probably a hit man or something. She should tell him to get lost. She should make up some excuse. She looked up and got lost in his eyes.
The bartender approached and said, “Can I get you two something?”
Jesse held Lauren’s eyes. “What are you drinking?”
“Kahlua sombrero.”
“And a rum and Coke, please.”
As the bartender walked away, Lauren tried to summon the courage to speak. He worked for her father. Was there any justice in this world?
“You don’t look anything like your father,” Jesse said.
“I take after my mom,” Lauren replied. She refrained from adding a thank God to that sentence. “So what kind of work do you do for him?”
“Mostly research, digging stuff out of the buried past. Nothing all that exciting.” Jesse pulled a twenty from his pocket and placed it on the bar. “I’m a private investigator.”
“Really? That must be interesting work.”
“Sometimes. Other times it’s boring as hell.”
Lauren chuckled. “I guess all jobs can be that way.”
The bartender returned, placing the drinks in front of them. Jesse pushed the twenty toward him, which he took and moved toward the register.
“Beware,” Lauren said. “Here come my lunatic friends now.”
Gina collapsed onto the stool on the other side of Jesse. “Well hello,” she said.
Jesse smiled. “Hi.”
“And you are?” Gina asked.
“Jesse.”
Gina’s ruby red lips gave a dazzling smile. “I’m Gina. And you are stunning.”
Jesse simply smiled. Carrie rolled her eyes as she slipped onto the stool beside Lauren. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Carrie.”
“Hi Carrie,” Jesse said. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Great club,” Gina said. “We’ve never been here before. I love the atmosphere.”
Gina twirled her long dark hair. Lauren chewed her lip, suddenly feeling more than a little inadequate.
Jesse nodded. “Yeah, it’s not a bad place.” He turned his attention to Lauren, locking his eyes with hers. “And I’m definitely liking the atmosphere.”
Lauren grew warm all over. She sipped her drink, not trusting herself to speak.
“Are you here alone?” Gina asked.
His eyes still locked on Lauren, Jesse said, “I was. But I hope I’m not anymore.” He flicked a glance at Gina and added, “I’m on probation till Lauren finishes her drink.”
Lauren laughed, relaxing despite herself. “Probation period is over.”
Jesse gave her a boyish grin. “And I’m allowed to stay?”
“Yes,” Lauren replied, grinning as well.
Jesse ordered a round for all of them and, despite protests from the girls, paid for them all. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not trying to get you all drunk so that I can take advantage of all of you. I’m man enough to admit there’s no way in hell I could handle that.”
“Unbelievable!” Carrie said. “A man who actually admits to his limitations.”
Lauren said, “A rarity indeed.”
Jesse leaned close to Lauren, his mouth inches from her ear. “Dance with me,” he murmured.
Lauren was suddenly aware of the slow pulsating beat of the music. A lump formed in her throat. His words had been more a gentle command than a question. Of course, she could still say no. His breath was hot against her neck. She swallowed the lump and managed to say, “Okay.”
They found a spot on the far end of the dance floor. Lauren put her hands loosely on Jesse’s shoulders. She was sure she looked as awkward as she felt.
Jesse’s hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. She wanted to melt into him. She wanted to run from him. The warmth of his hands created an intense fire on her skin that burned slowly within her.
Panic set in. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel this way about a total stranger? Why did she find it impossibly hard to resist the urge to nestle against his shoulder, kiss his neck…?
They swayed slowly, their bodies close. She didn’t trust her voice enough to speak. She didn’t dare look up into his eyes.
Finally the slow sensual beat was replaced by more raging techno. Lauren tilted her head up and was struck by how close Jesse’s lips were to her own. She backed up a step, hoping her complete lack of ease didn’t show. Jesse winked at her, then took her hand and led the way back to their seats.
