Will demanded. ‘Geez, you sound like one of my sisters!’
Yet Kelby wouldn’t shut up. ‘Here’s an idea...why don’t you try being friends with a woman instead?’
‘That’s not the way it works.’
‘On planet Normal it does,’ Kelby retorted.
Will couldn’t find a clever retort so he fell back on an old, trusted response. ‘Shuddup.’
Kelby just snorted into his beer.
Will looked over the railing to see some of his team in the heaving mass of dancers below, surrounded by a lot of nubile, barely dressed female flesh. They were so young and so obvious. He looked right, to the woman at the bar who was the complete opposite of them. Older, but inadvertently sexy, he mused, fascinated by her. Understated, yet compelling, with her minimal make-up and short, no-fuss hair.
Kelby banged his empty bottle down on the table. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Will nodded and drained his beer. His eyes swept over the crowd below and he saw that she was still there, standing by the bar, a long glass of what looked like mineral water in her hand. Unlike the rest of the clubbers she looked completely sober, and when she lifted her arm, and swung her watch-bracelet around her arm, he saw that she was checking the time. Her body language screamed that she wanted to leave and he was momentarily disappointed not to have met her.
You’re here for three months only. Sex was important to him, although he was still weary of casual hook-ups. But as the thought of a permanent relationship gave him hives it didn’t leave him with a lot of options. What could be worse than being trapped in a relationship with someone after familiarity and boredom had snuffed out all sexual attraction? It had happened with Jo, consistently rated as one of the world’s sexiest sportswomen, so it was bound to happen with anyone else.
If he got bored, fell out of lust and couldn’t maintain a relationship with someone as hot as her, he held out little—actually, no hope that he could do it with someone more...normal. He was, he admitted, a dysfunctional ass when it came to women.
As Will and Kelby walked down the steps from the VIP area he debated which exit to use. If he turned right it would take him past the bar and he might see the woman again.
Not that he’d do anything about it when he saw her; he just wanted to satisfy his curiosity about the colour of her eyes.
He traded high-fives with the more sober clubbers and rugby fans who recognised him, and Kelby willingly allowed himself to be pulled into a conversation with a couple of devoted fans. Rugby talk and free beer. Will grinned. Kelby couldn’t resist either.
Will dismissed the raucous comments flung his way and flatly ignored the offers from women—and one camp man—to buy him a drink. It took him about fifteen minutes to get to where he’d last seen her and he looked around. She’d disappeared.
Gone.
Later, he couldn’t have said why he looked in that direction, what made him glance over his shoulder. But there she was again. Except this time she was swaying on her feet. A large man, one whom he hadn’t seen before, had put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She wasn’t resisting. She just looked past him with glassy eyes and her head bobbed on her neck.
She was high as a friggin’ satellite.
Will frowned. Fifteen minutes ago she’d been dead sober and wanting to go home—now she was spaced.
He knew drugs—could spot the signs—but he was convinced she’d been telling her friend that she wanted to go home. Why take a hit if she wanted to leave? And whatever she’d taken had propelled her into la-la land very, very quickly.
Will looked at her and his gut instinct screamed that something was wrong. He really didn’t like the look of the broad, hairy hand that was cupping her ribcage, one grubby-looking thumb resting just under the curve of her breast. She’d refused the advances of far better-looking and better-dressed men than him the whole evening. There was no way that she’d hook up with that jackass now.
Date-rape drug. The thought slammed into his head with the force of a rugby scrum.
And where the hell was her friend...boyfriend...date—whatever he was? Will gnawed his bottom lip and swore, considering what to do. He was ninety-nine percent sure that her drink had been spiked, and if it had been, he couldn’t just leave her. Who knew what would happen to her?
But...what if he was wrong? This could all be consensual and he could be grabbing the wrong end of a very sharp stick. But it would be far, far worse for her if he was right and he left her on her own.
Oh, well, here goes nothing, he thought as he approached them, pulling a name out of the air. ‘Flora? Hey—hi! I never expected to bump into you here!’
Disconnected memories and snippets of conversation jumped in and out of her brain as Lu struggled to open her eyes. Eventually she just kept them closed and let herself drift. She remembered a friendly argument with Mak about her new, super-short hair. She didn’t think it suited her, and she thought her newly plucked eyebrows were shaped in too thin a line. Mak had snorted that she had the fashion sense of a goat and that she looked fabulous. Rolling backwards in her memories, she saw Mak arriving at her house with skinny jeans, too expensive shoes and a sparkly top, because the boys had been gone two weeks already and he was tired of her moping so he was taking her clubbing.
When was that...? Today? Yesterday?
No, last night she’d been at that club, watching Mak’s broad back slink off to the dance floor for one more dance while she waited for him at the bar.
Then...nothing.
Lu forced her eyes open, blinked and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them again they focused on a handsome face lying on the pillow next to her. Her eyes drifted over his long frame, over his muscled arm down to the tanned, broad hand that rested lightly on the top of her much whiter thigh. A masculine hand with a light touch... It felt so right, she thought as her eyelids drooped closed again.
OK, this dream was too awesome to lose by waking up.
Lu had no idea how much time passed before she woke again, but in contrast to the last time this time she didn’t feel as if she had cotton candy clouds stuffed in her head. There wouldn’t be a man lying next to her.
Lu opened one eye and—holy mackerel!—there still was a man. In bed.
With her?
And not just any man. A tall, dark and sexy one, who ticked all her make-me-hum boxes. Broad shoulders—tick. Muscular arms and chest—tick, tick. Long, powerful legs and slim hips. A face that was utterly masculine, a strong jaw and a battered nose that kept him from being over-the-top gorgeous.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick...
When he opened his eyes would they be an intense blue or green? They were neither. Just amber...the rich, deep hue of expensive sherry...edged with stubby dark lashes. They blinked once, twice, and then he yawned and she could see excellent teeth and...tonsils.
Tonsils? Seriously?
‘Oh, crap!’ he said as he rolled off the bed to his feet. He held out his hands as Lu scooted up the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘Don’t freak!’
Strangely, she wasn’t close to panicking, but he looked as if he was about to.
‘How do you feel?’ he demanded. ‘Are you OK?’
Was she? Lu considered his question. She was in a strange, albeit expensive hotel room, with a man who dinged her personal hotness bell, and she had no idea who he was or how she’d got there.
There was only one logical explanation for waking up in a strange man’s bed. What was it that she’d tossed down her throat—and