Page 12 of Wes

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I just need to make a quick stop before we go dancing.”

I frown, holding her in place and probing her eyes for the truth. Instincts tell me she’s lying, but I’ve got nothing to prove it. I let go of her arm and watch her leave. A plunging V-shaped back neckline bares most of her satiny skin in a stark contrast with the demure front of the dress. At the same time, the sheath design fits her hourglass form, accentuating her waist. Because the skirt of the dress tapers toward its hemline just below her knees, Maria wiggles as she walks away from me. Each sway of her round hips spells sex in bright, neon light. At least, that’s what my dick reads as my eyes follow her.

Yet I’ve no business pursuing this, whatever this is. She might not be as young as I thought at first, but she’s made painfully clear she despises celebrities in general, and rock stars in particular. And what’s with her sudden mood swing just now?

I rub a palm along my jaw. I’ve got enough problems of my own.

“I’d better stay the hell away from her,” I mutter to myself.

For some odd reason, this idea leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as my heart crumbles.

5

MARIA

Why should it bother me that Wes Baron wants a big family? It shouldn’t. Period. It makes no sense. He can have a whole football team roster for all I care. So why the hell did my stomach drop at his words just now?

“Damn the man,” I mumble under my breath, as I hurry through the main room of the restaurant toward the protection of a restroom stall.

Locking the narrow door behind me, I lean against it and close my eyes. Deep inhales and long exhales help me slow down my heart to normal speed. The silly ticker has been thudding against my rib cage since the moment I entered that limousine tonight. All evening, the rock star has been chipping away at the frozen walls I keep around my heart. Now the ice is beginning to taw. I can’t have any of that.

I shake my head. Focus. That’s what I need. I can’t allow his drop-dead gorgeousness to distract me. My lungs forget to pump air in. I struggle to breathe. With a sigh, I peel off the door, open it, and stroll to the counter. I place a hand on each side of a single porcelain basin and stare into the mirror. Maybe Wes Baron isnotthe crass womanizer I expected. I lift my chin, fighting a silly grin. The jury is still out on that one.

On the other hand, it’s been too long since I’ve had sex. If Wes flirts with me, I can try to be more welcoming, can’t I? What if I indulged myself a little?

“Let’s see how the night unfurls,” I mutter under my breath, winking at my reflection.

I mentally shoo the butterflies in my belly as a flash of his wide male chest, naked under me, pops up in my mind. I curl my fingers around the black metal handle on the door. Its coolness helps me ground my wayward thoughts when my fingertips itch to test the softness of Wes’s light-brown hair.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, yanking the door open, and stepping outside.

My heart splinters into a million pieces.

What the actual fuck?I scream inside my head at the sight that welcomes me.

Wes leans against the wall opposite the restroom doors, his legs spread apart to accommodate the generous ass of a tall brunette, which she wiggles against his crotch. He laughs out loud as he scribbles his name on the bare flesh on the top of the crack between her butt cheeks. She giggles, bunching in one hand the loose silk of her top just below her breasts.

They jiggle at me, mocking my recent bout of naiveté.

I drop my stare to the floor and march down the narrow corridor that leads to the front door.

“Fuck!” The drummer’s grunt behind me doesn’t slow me down. “Maria, wait up.”

As I stomp the irregular stones covering the entrance hall, I scold myself. Ithasbeen too long since I’ve had sex. That’s the only explanation for my lusting over a man who embodies all I despise, and then some.

Long fingers wrap around my upper arm. When I tug it to get rid of Wes, his grip tightens on my flesh made bare by the capped sleeves of my dress.

“Don’t,” he hisses in my ear. The command, uttered with natural, undeniable authority, halts my movements before he adds, “Ana and Moira are counting on us to behave.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a heartbeat before I huff. For the benefit of any onlookers, I plaster a wide, empty grin on my face.

Through gritted teeth, I murmur for his ears only, “Half an hour in that damn club should be enough. Then, I’m out and you can crawl back to your groupie.” The last word drops from my lips like a knife to my guts. I rarely use it because it stirs up too many painful memories. I swallow them down and wrap up, “I’m sure you can’t wait to finish what you two were starting.”

With a deep frown marring his perfect features, his gaze scans my face as if he’s trying to catalog my thoughts and emotions.

Good luck with that, I wish him, arching an eyebrow, piercing his masculine beauty with the imaginary daggers my eyes throw at him.

Wes opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before shaking his head and relaxing his hold on me. “Seen as you’ve jumped to your own conclusions, I won’t waste my breath with explanations.”

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