Page 49 of Simon Says

He probably did, Dakota thought. Mallet wasn’t a bad man at all. A little too much of a flirt, and far too bold at times, but he wasn’t irredeemable. “All right, Mallet. Take me to the party, and your secret will stay safe with me.”

He stepped back from the window. “You’re blackmailing me?”

“Just get me in.” Dakota stuck her head out the window to appeal to him. “I’ll tell Sublime…I mean Simon, that I twisted your arm. I’ll tell him I was going to go anyway, and you didn’t want me to have to walk in alone. He won’t blame you, I promise.”

Mallet weighed her offer while looking her over again. “You gonna dress up?”

Did he also think she looked scruffy? Men. “You betcha,” she assured him. “Dress, high heels, the whole nine yards. Hell, I’ll even throw on some makeup.” She’d do whatever she could to blow Simon’s mind.

“No kidding?”

While Mallet thought about her request, Dakota thought about Simon’s audacity.

How dare he lay claim to her, but then not invite her to an important party? Did he plan to flirt with other women? Did he have a date with someone else?

Had Bonnie won her way back into his heart?

The very thought made Dakota’s stomach tighten and soured her mood. “Make up your mind, Mallet. I don’t have all day.”

At her grouchy impatience, a wide smile lifted Mallet’s ears. “Why not? If nothing else, watching Sublime watch you ought to be enough fun to make up for any trouble this causes.”

“Great!”

Before Dakota could do too much celebrating, he held up a hand. “But there’s a condition.”

“There always is. Let’s hear it.”

“Call me Michael. Mallet is fine when I’m in the ring, but it doesn’t sound right coming from such a pretty woman.”

Pretty. How sweet. “Thank you, Michael.” Dakota wrote down the name of her motel and her cell phone number, in case of any problems. “What time will you pick me up?”

“Eight o’clock.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She briefly gripped his wrist, and was stunned at the thickness and vibrant strength. No, Mallet had no reason to fear any man. “Thank you, Michael. I owe you big time.”

He said nothing to that, and so Dakota drove off. But she saw him in her rearview mirror, standing there watching after her truck, until she turned the corner and couldn’t see him anymore.

SIMONwas bored and trying to hide it.

Twice now, throngs of women had ambushed him. They waited for him everywhere—near the bar, in the billiards room, even by the men’s john. He’d had more offers tonight than most men got in a year.

There used to be a time when all the female attention amused him.

Tonight wasn’t it.

Everywhere Simon looked, people laughed and joked. Men razzed each other, women flirted. The four-man band was great, and though he’d kept to his strict diet, the food and drinks looked good. Dean and his wife, Eve, danced. Gregor and his wife, Jacki, huddled in a corner, smooching. The entire lower level of the bar, including several private rooms, was at the disposal of SBC fans and fighters.

Not even the mechanical bull could hold Simon’s attention. He’d moseyed in there once, only to dodge back out before the female crowd could reach him. There didn’t seem to be enough men to occupy all the women.

Knowing Dakota wouldn’t call him, Simon still checked his cell phone. Again.

Nothing.

He tucked it back in his slacks pocket and leaned on the wall. He should have found a good excuse to skip this. He could have gone to Dakota’s motel, locked them both in a room, and rid himself of pent-up sexual frustration.

That thought came with a visual, and his body stirred. Damn. Not good.

Would the night never end?

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