"The centerpieces are too tall."

I turned to find a sour-faced woman in a pink pantsuit scowling at me.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

I only vaguely recognized the woman who had tapped on my shoulder. She wasn't one of the speakers for that night's event, and she wasn't one of the award recipients. She must have been a regular guest.

"The flower vases you're using as centerpieces." She could barely conceal her look of disdain. "They're too tall."

"I'm sorry, what?"

My mind was preoccupied with the one hundred logistical details I was in charge of. I had to make sure the caterers knew when to bring out each course, had to make sure the certificates were correctly organized for the award ceremony portion of the evening and I had to make sure every invitee was being treated as if they were VIPs.

"The centerpieces, dear." She pursed her lips, as if she'd been sucking on a lemon. "The guests won't be able to see over them. It'll obscure their view of the stage."

I knew for a fact the vases weren't too tall, because I'd made it a point to measure the height. I clenched my jaw, trying as hard as I could to resist giving her an equally sour look. My face contorted despite my best efforts. I whirled around before the woman could see, pretending to look at the tables and consider her words.

Deep breath in. And out. Calm and serene. I turned back around.

"I'm sorry, but the dinner starts in less than twenty minutes. I really don't think we have the time to—"

"Faith will get on that right away." My boss Martha interrupted smoothly as she came up behind the woman. "Right, Faith?"

Martha gave me a pleading look over the woman's shoulder. She must have been someone important for my boss to give in like that.

I forced a wide smile.

"Of course. I'll figure something out."

I stood in the middle of the elaborately, painstakingly decorated dining hall, trying not to melt down. We couldn't remove the centerpieces. They'd been provided by one of our event sponsors. The flowers had been arranged to look like their logo. We'd set up that agreement ages ago. I couldn't change things now. This was going to ruin everything.

I ran my hands through my hair, smoothing down the dark strands to steady my hands. I thought quickly.

Okay, so we couldn't use the vases, but the flowers didn't have any stems. The whole arrangement was vaguely bowl shaped. We could remove the vases and place the flowers directly on the table. It pained me to make the change, but it needed to be done.

I grabbed my sister Hope from where she'd been setting up name tags in their correct place settings.

"We need to get rid of these vases," I hissed in her ear.

She blinked her wide brown eyes at me.

"What? Why?"

"Because some very important blowhard said so."

She frowned in confusion, but nodded.

"I'll do that as soon as I've finished with these name tags."

I really did have the best twin sister. I pulled in her for a quick hug.

"Thanks for helping out, Hope. I can't believe three out of my four new junior interns didn't show up tonight."

"Someone's getting fired, I take it?"

"Fired out of a cannon," I muttered.

"You're always helping me with my job. I'm more than happy to do the same."

"I think you're getting the short end of the stick. At least your job involves working with rock stars, not stuffy, sour-faced suits."

"Did someone say rock stars?"

A tall man with vivid green eyes appeared behind my sister. He wrapped his arms around her, swinging her around.

"Ian!" Hope's face lit up with so much joy I was embarrassed for her. "What are you doing here?"

He set her down on two feet with a lingering squeeze, keeping his arms around her waist.

"When you cancelled our date, I figured I'd bring the date to you."

Hope melted against her boyfriend's chest, eyes turning shiny and bright. He smiled down at her and placed a kiss on her lips, his own eyes soft and tender.

I averted my gaze.

"Faith, always good to see you," Ian said once he finished locking lips with my sister. "How's the event coming along?"

"Nice to see you, too," I said. "It's going well. But how'd you get in? You're not on the guest list."

"I'm a rock star." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Crashing parties is what we do."

I folded my arms across my chest.

"The girl at the door recognized us," he said. "She's a fan so she let us in."

"And that's my fourth intern fired. Great." I paused. "Wait. You said us."

"Damon's around here somewhere."

I stiffened. The last thing I needed was that arrogant jerk showing up and ruining everything.

I'd had a few encounters with Ian's twin brother before, all of which left my gut reeling with rage. Damon was a hot-headed, womanizing narcissist. I had enough guests with inflated egos to deal with for one night.

And yes, I wasn't unaware of the hypocrisy of calling someone else hot-headed. At least I was able to control my impulses.

Usually.

"I told him to be on his best behavior," Ian said.

"That's so reassuring," I said. "Really."

"Damon's been a lot better recently," Hope said. "He's actually nice to me now."

I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think Mr. God's-Gift-To-Women knew how to be nice."

"He said he'd behave himself if we let him come," Hope said. "I'm sure he won't act out."

My dear sister, ever the optimist.

"This isn't like one of his rock star parties," I said. "It's a corporate event for the medical device research industry. Why did he want to come? Even I don't want to be here."

"So I could see your lovely face again, that's why."

Slowly, I turned around to greet the voice that spoke up from behind me.

The man could have been a clone of my sister's boyfriend. Same brown hair tufted into soft spikes, same brilliant green eyes.

There were differences though. Instead of Ian's playful, mischievous look, Damon had a wicked grin on his face. Even his body language was different. His puffed out chest and wide stance said he had all the right in the world to take up as much space as possible.

"Hello Damon." I kept my voice cool, yet civil. "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you again, but it's really not."

"You're a bad liar, sweetness."

His green eyes sparkled, so similar to Ian's, but different at the same time. That look was devilish. There was an edge to Damon that his brother didn't have. A certain wildness. Something about his eyes said he was just barely restraining himself. Restraining himself from what, I didn't know. Probably something bad. Something dirty.

My heartbeat sped up.

Damon's lips tilted into a smirk, noticing my stare.

I pressed my lips together and looked away.

"I take it you two plan on staying for the dinner?" I asked.

"If you've got room for two more?" Ian said.

I wanted to say no. The hopeful look on my sister's face made me cave.

"I suppose," I said. "I always plan extra spots for situations like this."

"Situations like this? Do sexy rock star gods often crash your events?" Damon asked. "Don't tell me I have competition. I think I'm getting jealous."

"I didn't think you knew what the word meant." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't you have your pick of women? Use one up, there's always another to take her place, right?"

"Sweetness, some women there's just no substitute for." That devilish green turned mischievous, boyish.

Almost cute.

My face flushed. I spun on my heels to face Hope.

"You can take the Hayworth's from our table and switch them to table seven. That will leave two extra spots so Ian and his brother can sit with you."

I didn't even want to say his name out loud.

I left my sister to entertain the twin guitarists of the hit rock band Darkest Days. Since she worked at their record label, she had experience handling Damon. I'd only interacted with him a couple of times.

A couple of times was more than enough.

Each of the few previous times I'd run into him, he'd mistaken me for Hope. He'd laid on the charm, expecting her swoon over him by pretending to be his brother. Each time I'd shot him down. That only made him more determined.

The look on his face when he realized Hope was also a twin and he'd been hitting on me the whole time was priceless. It was as if he couldn't understand the concept of a girl not falling at his feet. We'd exchanged a few heated words that night.

Okay, more than a few.

I had to admit, if only secretly, that I could see his point. That self-assured smile, the way he held himself with such confidence, those seductive eyes that made your panties melt…

I shook myself.

No.

So what if Damon had all the qualities I liked in a man? He was also a cocky, impulsive asshole. I only knew one way to deal with assholes.

Shut them down, hard and fast.

You really want to start thinking about hard and fast when it comes to Damon Drake?

I ruthlessly shoved down the small voice in my head, refusing to let that man affect me like this.

I went about doing my job, trying to forget about my two extra uninvited guests. There were wait staff to direct, announcements to make, and interns to order around. Make that intern, singular. Only one had shown up, which was why I'd roped my sister into helping me.

Fifteen minutes later saw me ushering the guests from the lobby into the dining room with smiles and nods. I made sure the guest speakers had everything they needed, gave one last talk to the sound and lighting techs, and double checked the awards for the winners.

Everything was in place.

Almost everything.

An older woman with too much jewelry grabbed me by the arm.

"I don't approve of my table number," she snapped at me. "I'm too far away from the stage."

I forced myself to remain pleasant.

"Ms. Hamilton, I assure you, your table has a great view of the stage from the side—"

"No, that won't do. I insist on being seated near the front."

"Unfortunately, we're unable to—"

"If I need to speak to someone above you, I will."

I plastered a smile on my face to conceal my fit of pique. "Of course. I'll make it happen."

She patted my arm. "That's a good dear."

Every single one of my nerves went haywire as I switched the woman's name tag with another guest. I'd planned out the seating months ago and now because of one irate guest I had to change it at the last minute.

I forced myself to take in a slow breath and let it out several times. My tense shoulders began to relax. I craned my neck back and forth, stretching. Okay. This was fine. One more small change wouldn't kill me.

Once that was taken care of, I left the dining room, wandering around the conference hall lobby for stragglers before the official programming began.

Guarding the entrance was my intern. She was staring up, starry-eyed, at the man who had an arm around her waist.

Damon.

She put a hand to her mouth and giggled. He trailed a hand along her shoulder.

I threw my hands up in the air.

"Stop flirting with my intern!"

The girl jumped.

The corners of Damon's lips tugged up. "You jealous, sweetheart?"

I ground my teeth together.

"Besides," he continued, "I thought she wasn't your intern anymore? Didn't I hear you tell my brother you're firing her?"

The poor girl's mouth dropped open.

"Please don't fire me!" Her eyes went wide and pleading. "I need this internship!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers.

"Then you shouldn't have let in two uninvited people, no matter how famous they are." I took in a deep, cleansing breath. I let it out. Maybe I could take up yoga. Didn't people say it was all about the breathing? "Dinner is starting. You need to get back to your spot to usher in the guests."

My intern hurried away, ducking her head to avoid my eyes.

"You don't have to be so uptight," Damon said. "Give her a little slack. You know how well my brother and I can pile on the charm. No one is immune."

"At least one person is," I snapped.

"You sure about that?"

Damon sidled up next to me, intruding on my personal space. I took a step back. He followed. My back hit the door. He didn't stop advancing until he was mere inches from me. I pressed my palms against the doorframe, bracing myself. The heat radiating from his body seeped into mine, warming me. He was so tall I had to look up, just as my intern had.

I hoped to god I didn't have that same starry-eyed look on my face.

"What are you doing?" I cursed myself as the words came out breathless.

"Proving a point."

He let one finger trail along my collarbone, the skin exposed by my black scoop-neck dress. My lungs stopped working. His finger continued to trace a path up my throat, along my jaw, until his large palm cupped my flushed cheek. My belly tightened at that touch. He placed his thumb at the corner of my mouth.

I parted my lips to tell him to back off.

Or maybe to come closer.

My brain was too muddled. His presence was making my head spin.

His thumb pressed against the center of my mouth, shushing me.

"Tell me, sweetheart. How many times have you touched yourself thinking about me?"

I exhaled a sharp breath.

His eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"Maybe you're not so uptight after all," he drawled.

He let go of me and backed away.

I leaned into the door to keep on my feet. The smallest of tremors wracked my body. Heat pooled between my thighs. I squeezed them together to alleviate the ache.

I hated how much this man affected me.

I wanted to push him away. I wanted to pull him close.

But mostly, I wanted to wipe that smug look from his face.

I straightened my back. I examined my dress, as if checking for wrinkles. I smoothed my glossy hair down over my shoulders.

"You need to go to the dining hall," was all I said.

When he didn't move, I gave Damon what I hoped was a look of impatience and not desperation.

"Well?" I asked.

"I don't know where the dining hall is," he said easily. "You'll have to lead the way."

I turned on my heel and stalked off without a word.

I know he followed me, because I could feel his eyes on my backside the entire way.