Mandy Lawson fisted her hands at her sides, her body trembling like she stood on the fault line of an earthquake, as she waited for Marcus to say something. Anything. When she’d approached the ballroom ten minutes ago, the sight of him had stopped her in her tracks. He’d seemed familiar. The dark, almost black hair, cropped short. The day’s worth of scruff covering his jaw. The width and strength of his chest and shoulders, narrowing down to lean hips and a tight, firm ass even his tailored slacks couldn’t hide.
If that fine specimen of male ass wasn’t enough to confirm her suspicions, the color of his eyes had blown his cover. Marcus Denali’s eyes were as blue as a cloudless sky, yet contained large splotches of golden brown. She’d never seen anything like them before or since.
Marcus pulled off his mask and cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing. He scanned her face as if seeing her for the first time. Or perhaps like she’d grown another head right in front of him.
Finally, he released her and folded his arms. “Why do I get the feeling you knew it was me?”
The accusation in his tone sank deep, setting her knees knocking together and her stomach churning. Damn it. She wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even spiders. Marcus Denali? The guy made her nerves quake.
Mandy squashed it all and squared her shoulders. “Your eyes gave you away.”
Marcus scanned her face again and took a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
Mandy scratched a nonexistent itch on the side of her head. He had her on this one, but what the hell could she tell him? Not once in all the time she’d known him—and their group of mutual friends got together every chance they could—had Marcus ever looked at her with anything more than impassive regard. What harm would it do to play out the fantasy for a few hours?
She sighed. She had lied to him, though. A lie by omission, maybe, but still a lie. “I wanted one dance before you realized who I was and that look crossed your face.”
Marcus’s mouth formed a thin line. “What look?”
She nodded in his direction, her heart sinking into her toes. “That one. Like I’m that annoying little kid you tolerate because you have to. When I first realized it was you, I thought maybe Lauren and Steph had set me up. I figured one dance wouldn’t hurt before I let you off the hook.”
She and Lauren had known each other since junior high. Steph she’d met five years ago, ironically when Steph hired her to plan her wedding. Unfortunately, Steph had gotten stood up at the altar, and Mandy had made a friend that night. They’d been the Three Musketeers since. It would be just like one of them to give the woman at Military Match a little hint as to who to fix her up with.
“One dance? I’m pretty sure that was two, and unless I’m mistaken, you originally suggested we not tell each other who we were at all. Besides…” Marcus lifted a dark brow, those intense eyes pinning her to spot. “Why would they set you up?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. Mandy diverted her gaze to the floor, staring at anything but him. She had no desire to know what would cross his face when she said the words. “I should think that’s pretty obvious by now.”
Four months ago, Lauren and Mandy’s brother Trent had gotten engaged. Ironically, the two had gotten fixed up through Military Match. They’d celebrated their engagement by throwing a party, friends and family only. One thing had led to another that night, as things often did where alcohol was concerned, and Steph dared her to make a move on Marcus. She’d taken Steph’s dare and planted one on him, in front of everybody. Surely a guy like Marcus had enough experience to realize that meant she was into him?
Marcus gave a slow shake of his head, muttering something under his breath she didn’t catch. Several seconds ticked by before he finally turned his head and met her gaze again with that infuriating impassive facade. “You’re going to have to fill me in, angel, because I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
He stared, expectation in his gaze, but her mind had gotten stuck on the nickname. Angel. He’d called her that before he knew who she was. Hearing it now had hope rising from the dead, fluttering in her chest like a hummingbird’s wings.
She shouldn’t ask, but damn it, she had to know. “Angel?”
His eyes searched hers for the span of a heartbeat. Then his gaze flicked over her, to her feet and back up. “I’ve never seen you in a dress. You’re usually in jeans. You look pretty incredible.”
For a moment, Mandy could only stare. Holy shit. He’d actually given her a compliment. Giddy awareness shivered down her spine, settling in the expensive silk panties she’d bought for this date. Nobody ever complimented her appearance. She was short, wide bottomed, and small breasted. Not exactly the kind of woman who turned heads. Never mind her frizzy hair.
It didn’t help her sexiness factor any, either, that she’d been a tomboy growing up. Her father had been an engineman in the navy, servicing and repairing the ships’ big engines. The only way to get some one-on-one time with him when he was home from deployments was to let him teach her. Turned out, she’d enjoyed it. It meant she could guzzle a beer with the best of them and she could do her own repairs on her car. One of the guys, wasn’t that what most of them usually called her?
She longed for one man who didn’t. Who saw beneath the exterior. Who looked at her the way Gabe looked at Steph—with adoration and desire in his eyes.
The way Marcus had looked at her before she’d taken off her mask.
“Say that again.” The words came out this side of breathless, like she was back in high school, face-to-face with Dylan Pembroke, the guy she’d had a huge crush on all of junior and senior year.
One corner of Marcus’s mouth hitched upward. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes dancing at her. “Answer the question. What ought to be obvious?”
Her stomach fluttered, along with her knees. She’d been waiting for this moment since Trent and Lauren’s engagement. The fallout of that kiss. You can do this.
She squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. No way would she back down from this. “I kissed you, Marcus. I would think the what should be pretty obvious.”
He folded his arms. “So call me slow and explain it to me.”
She shrugged. “Steph dared me.”
Marcus chuckled. “A dare? That’s very high school, angel. Why would she do that?”
Mandy’s shoulders slumped, dejection sinking over her and pulling at her limbs. Of course he’d laugh. Because she was the tomboy, the woman men liked to hang out with but nobody wanted to date. At least, not seriously. Should she have expected anything less from Marcus? Like most of the men she’d dated, he was delicious and one hundred and twenty percent out of her league.
She heaved a sigh and waved a tired hand in his direction. “I wanted to convince Steph to see Gabe, and she needed a little shove, so I made her a bet. Steph’s competitive. It was just a joke between friends. I’m sorry if I offended you or crossed a boundary. I’m also sorry I didn’t immediately tell you who I was. I had a feeling you’d do exactly what you’re doing now. I’m sorry I’m not who you hoped for. Consider me saving you from having to spend the evening with someone who reminds you of your sister.”
Heart in her shoes, she didn’t bother to wait for his reaction, but turned and strode away from him, heading for the ballroom entrance.
Apparently, she could count tonight’s date as another failure. Signing up with Military Match had been her idea. Jennifer Dillon, an old friend from high school, had hired her to plan her wedding and had recommended the service. So far Mandy had had ten dates. Ten. Five of whom she’d gone out with more than once. Who still called to invite her out for a beer…because they now considered her a friend. A freaking friend! That was her, just another one of the guys.
When she reached the elevator at the end of the hallway, Mandy jabbed the down button and folded her arms to wait. She wanted a good stiff drink, something strong, which would warm her belly and leave her delirious by morning.
“Hey!”
Mandy darted a glance down the hallway. Marcus jogged in her direction. Disappointment sank in her stomach. Great. That’s what she needed, him to want to continue her humiliation. She punched the button several more times in rapid succession, hoping, somehow, it would speed up the elevator.
When he came to a stop beside her, he leaned sideways, bumping her shoulder. “I offended you. I’m sorry. I’m kind of out of my element tonight. Of all the women I expected to end up with, I sure as hell didn’t expect it to be you.”
“Yeah, I got that part. Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter.” The elevator dinged open. Mandy took the opportunity to get away from him and stepped on, punching the button for the ground floor.
Before the door could close, Marcus stepped in beside her. As the elevator lurched into movement, he tucked his hands in his pockets and looked over at her. “It matters to me.”
Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.” He had the nerve to smile at her, all pleasant and sexy as hell. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and her knees melted.
Dragging her courage up from the pit of her stomach, she forced herself to face him. When you hit bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up. So she cocked a brow at him. “You want the truth or the sugarcoated version?”
He smirked. “The truth might be nice.”
She drew a deep breath and let the words fly. “I kissed you that night because I wanted to. Steph’s dare was an excuse. I’ve been dying to seduce you right out of those worn jeans you’re always wearing since the first time I met you. When I realized it was you back there, I could also tell you didn’t recognize me, and I wanted to take advantage of that. Truth is, you were flirting with me right up until I took my mask off.”
For a long moment, Marcus stared. When regret took shape in his eyes, instinct told her what his response would be.
He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, angel…”
Mandy held up a hand. “Please don’t say it. If you have any respect for me at all, you’ll let me get the hell out of here without mortifying myself any more than I already have. I had to try, because if you don’t ask the answer is always no. Well, now I know.”
The elevator glided to a stop, the doors dinging open, and Mandy stepped out into the hotel’s lobby. She set her sights on the exit, some twenty feet or so beyond her, and strode toward it without looking back to see if Marcus had followed. Once she hit the street, she turned right and kept on marching. Lauren’s bakery sat only a couple blocks from here. At seven o’clock on a Friday night, it would no doubt still be open. She needed her longtime best friend’s quiet sensibility and some of that luscious, smooth chocolate she made.
Mandy had gotten only to the end of the block before the soft thud of shoes hitting the pavement sounded behind her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that Marcus had followed. She lengthened her stride, but just her luck, the light changed, forcing her to stop on the corner to wait. Seconds later, Marcus jogged up beside her.
He nudged with her an elbow. “Would you stop running from me and give me a chance to say something?”
She shook her head. Sighed. “What’s there left to say? How you feel is written all over your face, and you know, I’d rather you not say it, if you don’t mind. I’d like to save what’s left of my self-esteem, thanks.”
“Well, I’m going to say it anyway.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and turned to stare at the street beyond. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”
She arched a brow and darted a glance at him. “If that’s your idea of an explanation, you’re going to have to try a bit harder than that.”
He turned his head to look at her, one corner of his mouth hitching. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He arched a brow, those delicious eyes glinting with challenge. “Just answer the question, angel.”
Mandy rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at him. “There you go with the confusing sweet nothings. Not helping, Marcus.”
Hell. She was behaving like a spoiled brat, but this entire conversation rubbed an already raw nerve.
Marcus remained silent for the span of several pounding heartbeats, then took a step closer, his muscled shoulder brushing her arm. He leaned down, his breath warm on her ear. “Would you like to know why I call you that?”
Her heart rate took off for outer space. Who the hell could think when he did that? His scent curled around her, something subtle and woodsy and entirely male, and everything below the waist became hot and molten. She was pretty sure her expensive panties had just vaporized.
She shrugged. If she did anything else she’d be melting at his feet. She sure as hell would not look into those hypnotic eyes. “Whatever floats your boat.”
This time, his nose nudged her earlobe. His warm breath caressed her neck, setting her heart to hammering like a hummingbird’s wings behind her breastbone. Mandy held her breath, afraid to move for fear of breaking whatever spell held them bound. If this was a dream, she had no desire to wake up.
“I’m only going to say this once, angel, so listen carefully, all right? You walk into a room, and I’m blinded by you. In that dress you’re a walking wet dream.” He chuckled, a quiet rumbling that sent shivers down her spine. “Hell, in a pair of grease-stained jeans, you make me hard enough to hammer nails.”
Holy…Did he really just admit he was attracted to her? Heart now hammering from the vicinity of her tonsils, she jerked her gaze to his. Only to bring her face inches from his. Close enough electricity arced between them like the snap of static. His pupils dilated and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t so much as twitch a muscle.
After a moment, he straightened, one dark brow lifting. “Now, answer my question. Do you know how old I am?”
Mandy swallowed past the thick paste in her throat and waved a hand between them. “I don’t know. I figured you were about Trent’s age, thirty-eight or so.”
He let out a sardonic laugh and turned his head, looking off down the street for a moment. “Forty, sweetheart. I turned forty two months ago. That makes me two years older than Trent and twelve years older than you.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re trying to convince the wrong person with that argument. My brother Will’s wife, Skylar, is five years older than he is, and Trent married my best friend. Lauren’s ten years younger than him, in case you didn’t realize. So the age difference doesn’t bother me, but whatever, point taken.”
Both her brothers had married outside their pay grades, as the saying went, and the age difference mattered squat to either of them. A fact she completely agreed with. Marcus had a maturity about him that made him sexy as hell.
Marcus let out an uncomfortable laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you? All right, angel, I’ll spell it out for you. I’m settled and old-fashioned. My idea of a good time is the nightly news and my dog in my lap. I sowed my wild oats a long time ago.”
He turned his gaze to the street again. While he appeared relaxed, the stiff set of his shoulders and the tick in his jaw gave away his discomfort.
“Your brother also works for me. I have a strict code of ethics I follow to the letter, the top of which is that I don’t date co-workers. Or my buddy’s kid sister. The guys who work for me aren’t just employees. They’re friends. So I stay away from you because—”
Finally having heard enough, she cut him off by holding up a hand. “Stop. Please. I get it. You’re not interested.” She rolled her eyes, because if she didn’t at least pretend flippancy, she’d cry. And damn it, she wasn’t a crier. “I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position, and I’m sorry you got stuck with me tonight.”
The light changed for the third time, the green walk sign blinking from across the street. This time, Mandy jogged out into the crosswalk, only slowing once she was halfway across.
One more date that ended the same way all the others had. I’m sorry, but… Up until now, Marcus had been a lovely fantasy, something delicious to keep her warm at the end of the night, when she went to bed alone. His quiet apology, the regret in his eyes a few minutes ago, had shattered the illusion she’d held tight to. The possibility.
Marcus had reminded her how pathetic she was. She was a phony. She planned weddings for a living, helped couples make their fantasies come true, but her Prince Charming had either gotten lost or had forgotten her address. Well, screw Prince Charming. She didn’t need him anyway.