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  "Puke," I finished.

  Her boyfriend or whatever stumbled back and made a face, suddenly not so hot to get her more tequila. Her face turned green, and she slumped toward the ground.

  I jumped to catch her. "Get me some napkins," I ordered. James quickly grabbed a bunch and thrust them in my hands, and I cleaned her face as best I could. "Are there towels in the kitchen?"

  James nodded. "I'll get you some clean ones and some water."

  "Thanks." Hooking my arm under her pit, I held her up and guided her through the sliding glass doors and into the house. Funny, her boyfriend scurried away like the rat he was. Asshole.

  "Don't feel so good," she muttered. She swayed on rubbery legs, but I was well used to the drunken walk, usually with a man with triple the weight to move and take care of.

  "You'll be okay. Let's get you to the bed." I eyed the stairs with trepidation, but finally found an unoccupied spare bedroom. I helped her sit on the edge of the mattress and she pressed a knuckle to her mouth. She didn't look so composed and perfect. She looked like a young girl, sick to her stomach, alone, and not sure what to do. "What's your name?"

  "Tratchie."

  "Tracey?"

  She nodded. "Spinning. Stop."

  "I'll try."

  James came in the room with a bucket, towels, and a few bottles of water. "Thanks, I can take it from here."

  He looked from me to Tracey, brows lowered in a frown. "Let me help. Do you think we need to call 911?"

  I shook my head and began dumping water on one of the towels, smoothing it over her face and pushing back her hair. "I'd like to know how much she drank so far, but she hasn't passed out yet. She's thrown up already, so let's get some water in her system and see."

  "Got it." I gently retied her bikini top so she was covered, and James uncapped the water and managed to get her to take some sips. She choked, but held it all down.

  "So tired," she muttered, clutching the edges of the bed as it probably spun out of control.

  "We'll let you sleep in a minute, Tracey. Can you tell me how much you drank? Do you remember?"

  She closed her eyes, but I kept gently repeating my question over and over. "Tequila," she spit out. "Shots."

  Ouch. Dad was a Scotch man, which was pretty nasty, but I'd seen what tequila had done to him one night, and he'd avoided it afterward. "How many shots? Three? Four?"

  She held up a shaking hand with five fingers. I calculated her body weight, added another shot for good measure, and knew she'd be okay. Just a wicked hangover to end all others. The fact I knew such research should've been depressing, but living with an alcoholic father and interning at the rehab had given me more knowledge than I ever wanted. "Okay, sweetie, let's get you to lie down."

  We forced her take a few more sips. James helped me lay her down, and we covered her with the patchwork quilt from the bed. She moaned for a long time, but we kept watch, and she finally went to sleep. I left the bucket by the bed along with some water and faced James.

  "Is she safe in here?" I asked. "I don't want that asshole to think he can take advantage of her."

  His features hardened and he clenched his jaw. There was a bit of sexy stubble that gave him a rough edge I found interesting. "I won't let anyone in. Besides, he's moved on. He's not interested in passed-out women, trust me."

  I crinkled my nose. "If he's a friend of yours, I'm not impressed." I know I come off snobby at times, but who people picked as their friends said a lot about their character. I was disappointed to think James hung out with the same crew.

  "Not a friend. He just comes to the parties and knows me." He seemed to pick his words carefully. "We travel in the same circles."

  "Asshole Central?"

  He laughed and shook his head. "Hope not. Listen, I promise you she won't be bothered. Tracey tends to party a bit too hard and many of her friends are used to her overdoing it." He studied me hard. "You didn't even know her, but you were the only one who stepped in."

  I shrugged. "Alcohol poisoning is serious stuff. I mean, I like to drink too and all, but I know my limits and try to have backup with my girlfriends if I'm gonna let myself go."

  "Guess you don't go to many frat parties at school, huh?"

  "Not really. " I eased open the door and we walked out, shutting it. Now he knew the extent of my lameness. I realized this wouldn't work. He wanted a party girl--fun, frolic, and a good fuck for the moment. No matter how hard I wanted to, I couldn't change who I was. I'd probably end up planning everything, just like I did the first time I got laid. By the time I had decided to lose my virginity, I was so stressed out about it going according to plan that I didn't even enjoy it. I pushed down the lingering disappointment at myself and forced a smile. "Well, it was nice chatting with you. See ya around."

  I tried to walk away, but his hand shot out to grab my upper arm. "Did I say something wrong?" he demanded.

  I blinked. "Umm, no, it's just that I'm sure you realized we're total opposites. You'll do better with one of those girls out there, I think." I jerked my head toward the giggling masses surrounding the pool and stream of gorgeous tanned bodies set up for display on lounge chairs. My one-piece suit and flip-flops screamed "amateur" and "stick-in-the-mud." I was so not spring break material. Mackenzie would be pissed I didn't wear the off-the-shoulder halter dress she picked out for me or the tiny red bikini she'd stuffed in my carry-on.

  "Wow, I really failed this pickup. You're throwing me at other women within half an hour of meeting me. Is it my looks?"

  I let out an impatient breath. "Of course not."

  "My conversation?"

  "No."

  He dragged me a few steps in. The delicious scent of him rose to my nostrils, and his body heat could've burned me alive. My knees grew weak, just like one of those awful cliches I read about. "Then what happened to our plan to run off together and have an adventure?"

  My lips parted. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and those blue eyes darkened with lust. Holy crap, he really wanted me. There was no denying the heat between us, and my body pulled so tight it seemed to almost hum with tension. He was going to kiss me, and I was going to let him. My breath strangled in my chest, and he bent closer. His full pouty lip held me motionless, and I reached an inch toward him to close the distance and--

  "Yo, James, we're running out of beer in the back. You got extra in the cooler? None are in the fridge."

  James muttered a curse. I jumped away, the moment broken, and rubbed my hands over my arms. "Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you asking me--just go look."

  The other guy glanced back and forth between us and grinned. "I interrupt something? Sorry, dude. There are some bedrooms open upstairs where you won't get bothered."

  The creepiness of a house full of strangers having sex wasn't my thing. It was so public and casual. I always pictured a fling being a bit more romantic and secluded than screwing a stranger in the back room of some rich guy's house.

  And why was he asking James about the beer? Were they co-hosting the party or something? My stomach suddenly twisted. "Who's the owner of this place?" I asked. "Is he even here?"

  The guy widened his eyes and hooted with laughter. "Holy shit, is she messing with me?"

  James clenched his teeth. "Dane. Enough." He grabbed my hand and tugged me down the hallway. "Ignore him, let's go somewhere to talk."

  "That what you calling it these days, my man?" Dane continued. "What's the matter? She don't like the idea you're so rich you can pocket half of Key West without a second thought? You can always hang with me, sweets. I'm just the poor working class along with my buddy for the ride." Dane's tone took on a cruel tinge. "You know, the one who just refills the beer and doesn't bother him?"

  I gasped. James was the owner? He was the rich kid who hosted the whole party? Anger cut through, long and deep, like a slice of a knife, and I turned on him. Of course, he'd been playing me. Having a bit of fun so he could laugh later, and entertain his buddies with his new conquest.
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  "You really want to play this card?" James asked him. I noticed his face completely changed, becoming cold and hard, and Dane realized he'd gone too far. James' eyes went flat and hard, like a shark, and he stood completely still, a strong power rushing from his figure. I knew two things at that moment. James was a lot more dangerous than I originally thought. He'd crush competition, get rid of anyone he didn't like, and play by his own rules. The rules of the rich.

  The second thing I noticed was I couldn't keep my eyes off him. I was horribly turned on by that powerful streak.

  I had to get the hell out of here.

  Dane put his hand out. "Sorry, man, I'm a little drunk. Catch you later."

  He disappeared and we were left alone. I shook as I tried to form all the words I wanted to fling at him. If there was one thing I hated more than anything else, it was lies. I'd grown up with them like a nest of snakes, ready to take a bite out of every piece of truth in my life. But I was on my own now, and got to choose my friends and my men. Screw him.

  "I'm outta here."

  "Wait!" He blocked my path and we faced each other like an old Western at noon. "Quinn, hold on a second. Let me explain."

  "Why bother? I get it. You thought I was stupid and you'd have a bit of fun. Hope you enjoyed yourself. Now move."

  He fisted his hands and muttered a curse. "Shit. I was going to tell you, I swear. I hadn't seen you before, and I just wanted you to know me as me--not the rich guy throwing the party."

  The hurt was the worst. I'd actually begun to like him in the short time he spoke with me. But he didn't even trust me to think I'd be anything but interested in his stupid money or social standing. "Oh, well that explains things. Now I know you as you. And I'm leaving."

  "Fuck. I made a mistake. I'm sorry. Just...stay."

  "Do you even know half the people here? Are they even your friends, or are they a bunch of strangers you want to impress?"

  His jaw clenched. "It's a tradition," he said tightly. "I open it up to anyone who wants to come, but I'm not trying to show off. Look, I was gonna tell you, but you seemed like you'd already prejudged the owner as an asshole."

  He was right, but I didn't care. I felt betrayed, and I wanted to get as far away as possible. If Dane hadn't blurted it out, would James have told me? I had no idea if he could be trusted. How many times had I been disappointed by some male promising me things he never intended on doing?

  Suddenly, I was depressed. Why did this always happen? Was there ever going to be a guy I fell for who had integrity? I pushed my hair back. "Forget it. I need to get back to the hotel and meet my friends, and you need to get back to yours. Keep an eye on Tracey. And thanks for the drink."

  "Quinn--"

  I ignored him, choosing to turn and walk out the other way instead of trying to get past him. I took the outside path past the pool, the bar, and down the gorgeous bluestone steps circling back down to the driveway. He didn't follow me.

  I didn't think he would.

  CAPTAIN CROW'S was crowded, hot, and exactly what I needed to get my mind off this afternoon and him. By the time I got back to the hotel, grabbed something to eat, and got ready to meet the girls, I'd burned off some of my steam but not enough. This time, I was done. I would find one super hot guy I could fall in temporary lust with--morals be damned--and sleep with him. Have my frikkin' orgasm. And be happy.

  "Whoa, that is not a happy face, darlin'." Mackenzie peeked from beneath her wide-brimmed sunhat that made her look more movie star than disguised ordinary college student. "But at least you dressed appropriately. 'Bout time."

  Her gaze was all appreciation and approval. I'd fished out the sexy black halter dress and fuck-me heels hidden in the bottom of my suitcase. I put on a bit of lipstick and mascara, then curled my hair so it had a nice wave to the ends. Halfway tripping on the killer stilts I wasn't used to, I slid into the vacant bar stool they had saved for me.

  Cassie slid over a drink, and waited till I sipped the familiar concoction of Sex on the Beach. Now if I could only get some on the beach instead of drinking it, I'd be set. "What's up? We leave you for one afternoon and you combust. I told you, Mackenzie. It's not a good idea to be split up."

  Mackenzie rolled her eyes and did a lovely snort that I could never pull off without sounding like a pig. "If we stay together, no one gets laid. You guys would stay at the pool all day and never talk to anyone but each other."

  My gaze met Cassie's and I sighed. Yep, that's exactly what we'd do and probably be happy. Maybe Mackenzie was right. Hell, she must be, since she already zeroed in on the guy with the tats and the lovely voice. If he was a musician to boot, she'd be toast. Goodbye technical virginity, as she liked to say. I always thought it was a hoot she was still a virgin, and she was the most outgoing, flirtiest in our crew.

  Cassie sighed. "Yeah, I guess," she said glumly.

  "Oh, for God's sakes, I'm not sentencing you to jail for the week! I swear, if both of you don't find someone by tomorrow, I'll find him myself."

  "I thought I did," I muttered, burying my face in the drink.

  "What? Who? When? Who?" Mackenzie demanded.

  Anger still burned in my veins. I related the story briefly to my friends and my body relaxed a bit. Alcohol and girlfriends were the best antidotes to stupid men.

  Cassie tapped her lip thoughtfully. "That's an odd thing to want to hide. You'd think he'd be bragging about his money and house to snag you. Right?"

  I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "Well, yeah, but he had plenty of opportunities to tell me the truth. I felt like an idiot."

  "Did he defend himself?" Mackenzie asked.

  "He said he wanted an opportunity to show me his real self, instead of me jumping to conclusions because he was rich."

  As soon as the words popped out, I knew I was doomed. They knew honesty was my sticking point, and that I was a bit overzealous when it came to the quality. Cassie spoke gently. "Sweetie, maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he just liked you and didn't want you to have expectations."

  "Was he hot?" Mackenzie asked.

  I shivered from the thought of his broad, muscular chest, and piercing blue eyes. "Yeah," I admitted. "Really hot."

  "Explain."

  "Curly dark hair, beautiful blue eyes. Tall. Lean. Perfect mouth."

  Mackenzie grinned. "Like that guy over there?"

  My head swung around and I came face to face with James.

  Holy shit.

  He sat at the corner table with a few friends. A pitcher of beer served as the centerpiece, and they were all laughing at something, but he remained still, his gaze locked on mine just like he had at the party hours ago.

  What was going on? Was he following me? Why was he here?

  "I think that's definitely him," Cassie commented. "You're right, Quinn. He's smoking. And very into you from the looks of it."

  My heart pounded and my palms felt slippery around the glass. A weird ache thrummed in my lower belly, as if I was hungry or thirsty or something, but I had an idea of what it was. He turned me on. Big time. This was not good. Right?

  "What's he doing here?" I hissed, spinning back around.

  Mackenzie looked delighted at my sudden interest in the male species. "Probably trying to find you. His friends look cute too. Maybe you can introduce Cassie to one of them."

  "No!" Cassie and I blurted out.

  Mac pouted and disappeared under her hat again. "Just trying to help."

  "I can get my own man," Cassie said.

  "Tock's clicking, girlfriend. Tick. Tock."

  Cassie shot her an annoyed look, but a grin threatened her lips. "Okay, virgin girl."

  That got Mackenzie to peek from under the brim. "Lowball shot. You're one too."

  "You're right. Sorry."

  "Can we refocus on my problem, please?" I said. "What should I do?"

  "Well, you're not allowed to stay here with us and hide," Mackenzie announced. "Remember the rules. We don't meet anyone unless we split up. Now
take your gorgeous ass outside to the tiki bar near the beach and find someone else if you don't want Mr. Blue Eyes for the week."

  Damn. I hated to admit it, but I tended to suck at going up to men, and how could I find one at this bar if James was here? I certainly wasn't about to march up to his table after my departure this afternoon. Besides, maybe he was just hanging with his friends and it was a coincidence. Maybe he realized I was kind of lame and he'd rather be with one of those easier-type girls.

  I drained the rest of my drink and stuck out my chin. "Fine. I'll try."

  "That's my girl," Mackenzie said.

  Cassie squeezed my hand. "Good luck. Be safe."

  "You too. Call me if there are any problems. Meet Tuesday morning for breakfast?"

  They agreed. I tentatively got myself back on the ground, tugged my dress down, and headed for the door. I refused to look toward the back, but felt a burning gaze stripping off the little dress, finding skin, and stroking with pleasure. I fought the goosebumps, raised my head high, and pretended I owned this outfit and heels.

  Of course, being me, I stumbled over the first step, grabbed the door frame, and had to pull myself back up.

  Such is my life.

  The sun was hot and my heels clicked on the deck as I got to the second bar. Groups clustered around, and Jimmy Buffett was crooning the pleasures of Margaritaville and sweet alcohol. Girls swayed and danced in their bikinis, and others were dressed up like me, but seemed a hell of a lot more comfortable and confident. I chewed on my lip, squeezed into an unknown group, and ordered another Sex on the Beach.

  The bartender gave me a look of appreciation and winked. Hmm, not bad. But he was surrounded by a crazed crowd, and I could barely hear him ask what I wanted to drink over the noise. Not conducive to seduction. I gave him a nice tip, battled my way out, and tried looking approachable by the railing. I cocked my hip, screened my face to look approachable, and waited.

  No one came.

  Everyone seemed to be hanging with friends, overdrinking, and interested in their own conversations. Humiliation threatened, so I quickly gulped the rest of my drink and reconsidered the bartender.

  "Hey, pretty girl, how are you?"

  Relief flowed through my body as I turned to face my approacher. Kind of cute, average looking, blond hair, brown eyes. "Good, thanks." I searched for something witty to say. "Umm, having a good time?"