From the corner of the darkened bar, Dylan watched Serafina Justice dance. For over an hour, he'd been observing her and her friends. And he hadn't been the only one.

They'd danced and laughed and taken shots. The shot-taking worried him, but from his count, she'd only had two and stopped there, switching to what looked like either a gin and tonic or club soda.

She had no idea the shit that's brewing. As far as little miss wild child was concerned, ignorance was bliss. Like it is for you? He shoved that thought aside, he didn't need the good doctor getting in his head right now.

All he knew was he had better work his magic before she found out the hard way why he was really here. Dylan had already considered his options. He wasn't a fan of Senator Justice's plan to keep Sera in the dark. He preferred full disclosure. It was far less messy and entangled. But he had a job to do and it was the senator's dime.

At least he wasn't going to have to take the risk of going full undercover. He and the senator had agreed that he would pose as Sera's boyfriend. Sera would be the only one to know he was there to babysit her and take her to DC. To the rest of the world, he was her new love. Senator Justice hoped his presence would deter further threats. And in the meantime, he'd see if he could flush out the Cochrans.

Pretending a level of emotional connection with someone would have been his own personal nightmare. No, instead, he was going to fake it for the world. But you did it every day with Symone. Shit. For months he’d fought to get back. Lately he’d started to worry it was more for Carmen than for Symone. He was twenty-six. Was he ready for a full time forever family?

To make matters worse, for two days, his mother's ghost had tried to haunt him more than once. That stupid letter. Dylan took another pull of his beer just as Sera and her friends stood. Damn it. Was she leaving? If so then he'd waited too long. They needed to establish cover sooner rather than later. Whoever had sent photographs to the senator needed to be aware the landscape had changed, and pronto. Either he'd be an idiot and keep pursing and Dylan would catch him. Or he would back off and bide his time until the announcement. Either way, Dylan would get him. Then he'd be on his way home to New York.

As the girls wove their way from their booth through the crowd, he cursed under his breath. But he relaxed when he realized they were headed for the bar and not the exit.

His gaze swept down to Sera's hips as they swayed through the crowd in her leather pants. His heart rate ticked up and he forced himself to take deeper, slower breaths. Eyes on the prize, Donovan. But he couldn't tear his gaze from her. Her friend, the tiny dark haired one with the olive skin tone, leaned back and whispered something to her that made her laugh. She didn't have one of those high-pitched giggling laughs that trilled. No, Sera Justice laughed with her whole body.

Her head fell back as her mouth fell open. Arms wrapped around her as if to hold herself together while her body engaged in the best moment of the day, encompassed with the feeling. Fuck, she's beautiful when she laughs.

Holy hell. The sound was like some kind of primal mating call to his dick. What the hell? Where had that come from? First of all he was supposed to be protecting her. Second, and most important, she was the senator's daughter. His dick didn't seem to care about any of that. At least he wouldn’t have to fake the connection. Oh yeah, it was all about the small blessings.

He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts under control, but then she and her friends climbed right up onto the bar with several other girls and all he could do was stare.

The DJ switched the beat to some Nicki Minaj song and each of the girls broke out into a choreographed dance routine of some sort. He leaned over to the guy next to him. "Hey, man, is this what usually happens here?"

The guy grinned back at him. "Oh yeah. Every Friday night at nine. The owners invite some girls up on the bar to signal the beginning of ladies’ hour, where all the women drink for free."

Fantastic. "And they all know the dance because?"

He laughed. "You must be a first-timer. These girls are regulars. They know the owner."

That made more sense. Trying to force himself to relax he breathed a gruff breath. She wasn't in immediate danger. But no matter what he did, the longer he watched her, the tighter the tension coiled in his gut. Worse, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her.

At some point, mid-dance, she scanned the crowd and locked her gaze on him. His chest tightened as his heart worked overtime. She was dancing for him. Well, that would certainly make things more difficult. First, he knew right away there was something wrong with the senator’s intel. There was nothing fragile about that girl. That direct stare told him that. Next thing: he was going to need a plan B and fast, because he wanted Sera Justice.

* * *

As the music blared from the speakers, Sera leaned her head back and enjoyed the balmy San Diego night. She'd done it. She'd gotten the client. And as an added bonus, she had some ideas of what to do for them.

"Honey, you better be enjoying that drink. You need to catch up with the rest of us. You've only had two shots." Ava passed her another drink, then raised her glass. "A toast to Sera. You kicked ass."

"I'll drink to that." Taj raised her glass.

Sera shot back the fiery liquid and coughed as it burned its way down. "Jesus Christ, Ava. What the hell was that?”

Ava raised her slim shoulders. "Dunno. The bartender called it a firebomb.”

Ava had been her freshman-year roommate. Despite their differences, they'd been thick as thieves all through school. They'd even had the same major and both interned at Stark in their undergrad.

They always joked that they were salt and pepper. But their differences went beyond just their looks. Ava had grown up on a farm in Wisconsin and had won a scholarship to come to San Diego. She used to joke that she'd clawed her way up out of the dirt. Sera, in contrast, had grown up with the proverbial silver spoon jammed so far up her backside that despite all she'd done to shed her mother's influence, she still might need surgery to remove it.

But somehow they worked. They just blended well. They'd supported each other through everything.

"For once, I agree with Ava. I'm already one drink down and you haven't even finished yours. Catch up, honey, so you can enjoy the same alcohol goggles as I have. You know, the ones that magically turn hipsters from unwashed, bearded, unoriginal douchebags into someone you'd actually sleep with."

Even Ava laughed. Sera studied the options on the outer patio lounge of the Exchange. This had become the default pre-party spot. The owner had used Stark to do their launch. Added bonus, it was near work.

"I don't know, Taj, I'm not really feeling it tonight. I'm just seeing the same old, same old."

Since Aaron, she'd been trying to get back in the swing of things, but she hadn't really been able to get in the spirit of it. Besides, it wasn’t like she had time for a relationship now anyway, given the sheer amount of work she'd have to do to prove herself and stand out over the nepotism crowd.

Taj pushed her drink in her direction. "Drink up. You'll feel better. And after Wednesday, you need it."

Ava frowned. "What happened Wednesday?"

Sera scowled at Taj. Her friend hadn't pressed the Aaron issue since the other morning, but this was her way of nudging Sera to talk.

"I ran into Aaron. Though, not so much ran, as hid from. As if I'm the one who fucked up."

"Aww, shit, I'm sorry, Sera." She turned her attention to Taj. "I'm sure you bitch-slapped him for her?"

"I would have, but this one over here"—she hitched her thumb at Sera—“wouldn't let me." Sera drained her glass and signaled the passing waitress. She was going to need way more alcohol if they were talking about Aaron. "I keep hoping he'll go away."

Ava's shoulders relaxed. "If you want, I can talk to him. Mark out a plan for joint custody of everything in the city so you won't have to run into him." She snorted when Sera looked up hopefully. "Sera, that's ridiculous, you have to see him sometime."

Taj slid her a scowl. "Not funny, Goldilocks. She was really upset."

"It's okay. She's right. It's not feasible."

Ava patted her knee. "I'm so sorry I ever introduced the two of you."

"Not your fault. He seemed like a good guy."

Taj snorted. "I want the record to show I hated homeboy from the start."

That was true; Taj had wrinkled her nose the first time they'd met and immediately she and Aaron had gotten into it. She should have listened to her. Granted, Taj wasn't a fan of most people.

As the server brought them another round, Sera glanced up at the street cam and froze. The bar liked to post street images which often included the marina as their patrons drank and partied. The shaggy dark hair was familiar. As were the tattoos and the sinister smirk as he stared up at the camera.

Short gasping breaths tore out of her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut tight. No. No. No. That can't be him. You're imagining it. Tommy Cochran is in prison. She dragged her eyes back open and he was gone.

Craning her head to glance down at the corner, she didn't see anyone. You're losing it, Sera. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, then another, she knew why this was happening. Once she got some sleep, it would be all right. Thanks to her mother, she had Tommy Cochran on the brain and she needed to focus on something else, anything else. Lucky for her, Taj and Ava were engrossed in a conversation about the hotness of a potential guy and hadn't noticed her silence.

"I mean, I'm not kicking him out of bed, that's all I'm saying."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Taj, look at him. He clearly screams, 'I'm in a band, I'm in a band.' I mean, what are his future prospects?"

"The only future I care about is the next couple of hours and what he can do in bed."

"Jesus, Taj, don't you ever think beyond your libido?"

For once the two of them bickering was actually comforting. A low voice from behind her sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her before finally settling low in her belly, practically reviving her libido with a defibrillator. "Admit it, you were dancing for me, weren't you?"

All three of them whipped around. Sera had never seen Taj speechless. Not once since she'd met her. But now her mouth hung agape. And if Sera wasn't too busy doing the same thing, she'd have laughed. It was the guy who'd been staring at her when she was up dancing on the bar. He was right. She had been dancing for him.

Tall, dark and screwable, coming right up. He was something straight out of her subconscious dreamland. Taller than average. Well above average. Next to her five-foot-three frame, he was practically a giant. His dark hair looked inky in the twilight of the deck, his bone structure chiseled out of the unofficial superhero mold. But by far the most outstanding feature was his icy, pale blue eyes. There would be no escaping the blatant honesty in them. He was the stuff of runways and fantasies.

For a long second, none of the three of them spoke.

The guy smirked. "Looks like the cat's got all of your tongues. How about I introduce myself? I'm Dylan, and you are?"

Ava thawed first, her statue coming to life in jerky movements. For once she wasn't reserved and refined. "I'm Ava. Nice to meet you, Dylan. I might have been dancing for you. Depends on if you liked it or not."

Slowly Sera found her brain. Dylan didn't take his eyes off of her despite what Ava said. Taj came to life next. But, instead of her usual come on, she glanced between Dylan and Sera and grinned. "Back off Ava, I think he's here for Sera."

Dylan's gaze flickered to Taj momentarily before landing back on her. Despite her best intentions, Sera squirmed in her seat as her insides turned to liquid. The heat of his direct stare forcing her body to life after its long slumber.

Dylan cocked his head. "Sera? Pretty name."

"S-Sera, Serafina actually. My mother has a thing about angels." Seriously? Seriously? What the hell? Shut up, shut up now. What she needed was a muzzle. Not her finest game spitting moment. Though it was probably for the best because she was not equipped for a guy like this. She might be all about living every moment, but he was out of her league. Screw league, try stratosphere.

"Your mother has good taste."

Despite what Taj said, Ava wasn't in the mood to be ignored. "Taj, I think our new friend can decide who he wants to buy a drink for." She winked at him. "Or are you hedging your bets and going to buy us all drinks?"

For the first time, Dylan's gaze shifted to Ava and his slight frown gave Sera's inner diva a little jolt of glee. What was wrong with her? She wasn't in competition with her friends. Not her style. Time to go before she embarrassed herself. "You can count me out for drinks; I think I'm headed out."

With a clear, unnerving gaze on her again, he grinned. "You didn't answer my question."

Sera leaned forward, close enough to whisper in his ear. Rookie mistake, Justice. Of course he smelled incredible. Fresh and clean like ocean breezes. It was so good she wanted wrap herself around him. Instead, she managed to croak out, "You're right. I didn't." Pulling back, she steadied herself and took a breath. Being that close to him was dangerous.

"Okay, then. One dance. I'll decide for myself. If I'm a terrible dancer, then you can go. If I'm decent, you owe me another dance."

The smile broke out before she could control it. "Something tells me you don't volunteer to do anything you aren't already sure you're good at."

His brows drew down slightly, but the frown was soon replaced by a grin. "You're astute. I'll need to be careful."

Was he for real? Say yes when something scares you. Live to the fullest. Damn it. Malcolm's words sure picked an inconvenient time to be heard. "One dance. Then I'm going."

Taj grinned at the two of them before scrambling out of the booth to give Sera room to pass. Ava pursed her lips and scanned the bar, already on to the next guy. Something was up with her. Sera made a mental note to hash it out with her later.

When he took her hand, a jolt of awareness coursed through her. Her brain raced with every reason why she shouldn't be doing this. All the reasons why she'd sworn off guys. All the reasons she'd sworn off good-looking guys. At the same time, her total commitment to doing the hard thing, the scary thing, propelled her to keep her hand in his, even as he led her through the crowd.

And of course the DJ did her the solid of switching up the song to The Weekend's “Earned It.” Dylan pulled her close and looped his arms around her waist.

Oh hell. Pressed up against him, she couldn't ignore the intense chemistry. Couldn't ignore the tug of need low in her belly. Pretty damn inconvenient. She didn't want to feel this way. It was the last thing she needed. Need and want are very different things. And she needed this. Needed to feel his heartbeat under her hand. Needed to feel every hard muscle pressed against hers. Needed his hands on her body.

Speaking of hands, considering the way her body was melting for him, his were entirely too respectable, never straying from her lower back, even though they tightened on her and then released.

"Thank you for dancing with me." His voice was low and seductive. No doubt he could lull her into doing anything with that voice.

Sure, sir, take my panties, I didn't need those pesky things anyway. "Well, I didn't want to ruin your night. I can see it now: you'd slink off and drown your sorrows, only to then become a raging alcoholic and a recluse, just you and your bottle of gin."

If she thought the effect of his voice was bad, his laugh was worse. Much worse. Because, damn it, if it didn't make her want to wrap herself around him tighter. "You have me pegged. I'm so glad you saved me from myself. Whatever would I have done?" His gaze flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes. "So what do you think? Are you ready to tell me that you were dancing for me?"

"You're sure of yourself."

"What was that you said back at the table? That it's not likely I do anything unless I know I'll be good at it. Same goes for asking questions. I usually know the answer."

Nodding as she laughed, she asked. "But when do you try new things? Must be dull only doing things you know you're good at. Failure is half the fun. Risks can be good."

"I take risks."

Sera laughed. He didn't look like a risk taker at all. Despite the smiling and flirting, there was an air of tight control about him. "Like hell you do."

His grin flashed and her mind short-circuited. "How do you think I learned to dance?"

"Lucky? You got it from your mama? You took classes as a kid? You can't dance and I'm just very bad and I don't know the difference? When in your adult life have you taken a risk? And hitting on a girl in a bar doesn't count. You know what you look like, so the odds are forever in your favor."

He blinked at her before a laugh erupted again. Somehow she got the impression it was more spontaneous. That there was less thought involved with this one. Like she'd genuinely surprised him.

"Man, there is no getting anything past you, is there? I have to warn you, my family has this thing about movie quotes. Hunger Games."

Sera laughed. "Go ahead, show me you're this grand risk taker."

The timber of his voice rolled down her spine, making her euphoric.

His gaze flickered to her lips again. "You asked for it."

* * *

Dylan focused his attention on Sera's full lips. When her lips parted on a sigh, he bit back a groan.

His heart thundered like stampeding horses and the blood rushed in his head, drowning out the music, the people—everything but her. This is for the cover, he told himself. Someone needed to tell his dick that, because the fucker didn't seem to care.

As he leaned down to kiss her, Dylan tried his best to keep the roiling emotions under control. He needed to keep this light with just enough believability for anyone watching. But then his lips brushed hers.

Dylan should have shored up those defenses. If he'd known how potent kissing her might be, he'd never have attempted it. He should have prepared himself somehow. But it was too late for that. He slid his lips over hers as her tongue peeked out and traced over his lower lip.

It had been his intention to pull back. It had all been part of the plan. Kiss her. Just enough to lay cover with her friends as to why he was always around. But then she'd made that sound. The needy one at the back of her throat that pretty much begged him to keep kissing her and well, yeah, he'd lost it.

The next thing he knew, he was reaching his hand into her hair and holding her in position so he could kiss her deeper.

She tasted like mint and strawberries and vodka. The sweet chasing off the burn. He moaned and slid his tongue inside again. Fire ran through his veins, chasing the need—desperate to taste more—to consume her.

There was no controlling his response to her. No stopping it. Dragging her closer, he shuddered, when his cock pulsed against her belly. His erection throbbed in his jeans, begging for release.

Sliding his hand under her top, his thumb traced a pattern on that stretch of skin between her top and her leather pants. Forget thinking—it wasn't possible at he moment. Not with Sera Justice wrapped around him like a second skin and his hands on her. So damn soft.

As far as risks went, kissing her had been a gamble that was going to taunt him for a long time.

* * *

Sera sank into the kiss. She let the heat and need and longing wash over her, drowning out the doubt, the rationality. Or the Hey, he just about screams danger.

Never mind the rational thoughts like, Hey, didn't you just say you were done with guys? Or how about the You don't even know homeboy. The final argument should have worked even on her inner sexual diva, but by the time she could think it up, she was too far gone. This guy is dangerous. Dylan carried an air of badass with him like a cloak. The same kind of air she kept far away from.

But as he dipped his tongue into her mouth, making her insides melt, her libido wrestled her brain to the ground and sat on it.

His lips were firm on hers, coaxing a response. Demanding but gentle. She couldn't hear the music, or the people around her. All she heard was the low growl in his throat as he deepened the kiss. When his hand teased up her top and smoothed over her skin, Sera shivered as euphoric tingles tripped drunkenly over her skin.

His heat, surrounded her, warming her from the inside out, dragging her into the inferno. Dragging? Hell, who was she kidding, she was sprinting toward it.

The tingly, aching heat that pulsed low in her belly pushed her toward inescapable need as his tongue delved and danced with hers.

To say Dylan was an expert at kissing would have been the understatement of the century. It was like he'd invented the act. Especially the act of a slow seduction. In between long, leisurely licks. He'd pull back lightly, barely pressing their lips together as if waiting for her to take another deep breath before plunging in again.

She looped her arms around his neck and he slid his hands down over her ass, cupping her and dragging her closer.

Somewhere in the distance, someone made a desperate mewling sound. Wait, was that her? Despite the fact that she didn't know him or the air of danger that swirled around him, they fit. And they fit well. His leg slid between hers, and the contact between hers made her jerk in desperation.

As long as this man kept touching her and didn't let go, she could give a damn where she was.