2. Frankie
2
FRANKIE
W ow .
I looked around the party. Amazing . New Orleans sure knew how to throw a shindig.
I mean, there was a freaking tree in the center of the room, with flower-laden branches spreading across the ceiling. They glowed prettily.
I’d only been in the city two weeks, and I liked it already. To be fair, I’d spent most of my time setting up my new laboratory. Even the cute little house I was renting was still filled with boxes.
Tulane was helping to fund my new project…with help from the government. It was my dream come true. I was a microbiologist earning my PhD and helping my country at the same time.
But tonight, I just wanted to have some fun.
Tonight, I wanted to let my hair down a little.
I ran a hand down my dress. I loved the red flapper dress. It was a nice change from my lab coat, and who didn’t like the chance to dress up? I was also wearing a long strand of pearls, and had a cute red-feather headband.
My other goal tonight was to see the Fury brothers.
I’d heard so much about New Orleans’ favorite sons already. Well, okay, I really wanted to see Reath Fury—my brother Jack’s best friend.
My brother idolized the man.
My nose wrinkled. Jack was closer to Reath than he was to me. They were like brothers. I felt a pang. I loved Jack, but he was always away from home. Always off looking for the next adventure.
Mom and I hadn’t been enough for him. I’d learned that as a little girl desperate for her popular brother’s attention.
My mom had always warned me that some men were always looking for the next exciting thing. Something new and shiny. A pulse-pounding adventure.
My dad had been. Not that he’d traveled the world or was unfaithful. No, he’d poured all his passion into his job as a cop.
Until it had killed him.
I shook off the melancholy. This was a party, and New Orleans was a fresh new start. I took a drink off a tray and smiled at the server. I took a sip of the champagne, and the sweetness fizzed on my tongue.
I didn’t really remember Reath. I had a vague recollection of a man in uniform—like all the other soldiers milling around when Jack had come home. All I’d seen was my brother. I’d missed him so much.
“Oh my God, there’s Dante Fury,” a woman nearby whispered furiously. “His girlfriend is the luckiest woman in New Orleans.”
I glanced at the trio of gossiping women, then turned.
Oh, yes . It seemed Dante Fury was a hot, dark-haired man, with a muscular body, and a strong jaw covered in a dark beard. The kind of man men wanted to be, and women just wanted. The brunette beside him in the killer black-and-gold dress was laughing, and of course, stunningly attractive.
I craned my neck to look at the others. There was a tall, grumpy-looking man with a beard, and small, blonde woman in front of him, patting his chest.
“I’ll take Colton,” another woman drawled. “All that bounty hunter badassness.” The woman mock shivered.
At that moment, the crowd shifted, and I couldn’t see the other brothers. Darn it .
Sipping my drink, I made my way closer, but I still couldn’t see a thing. I hated that everyone in the world was taller than me.
My best friend Lindsay back in Seattle would tell me to quit complaining. She was five foot nothing, and complained bitterly about being short.
Suddenly, the crowd parted, and a man in a white suit made me forget all about the Fury brothers.
Oh, boy . He was gorgeous. The white was perfect against his dark-bronze skin. He clearly had some African-American heritage. His face was almost beautiful, but his strong jaw saved him from being too pretty. His black hair was short, and the way he held himself said that he was a man who knew how to move, who knew how to deal with whatever life threw at him.
I saw him scan the room, watchful and alert. I’d seen that look in my brother.
Someone passed between us, and my chest tightened. Wait . Was he looking at me?
Then his head lifted, and his gaze collided with mine.
Oh . My heart did a hard rap against my ribs.
I couldn’t look away. We stared at each other for a beat.
The crowd moved again, blocking my view. I quickly drained my drink and resisted the urge to fan myself.
I started moving through the guests toward the bar. There were some people out on the dance floor, doing some 1920s-style dancing to the jazz music.
Glancing back, I looked for my mystery man. I really didn’t need a hot guy messing up my plans. I was Frankie Parker, career girl. My PhD was my main priority. Dr. F. Parker had a wonderful ring to it.
I had no room for men, love, and entanglements. My project was too important.
My work would change things—first for the military, but later for so many sick people.
I thought of my mom. My father had been killed in the line of duty when I’d been seven and Jack was on the cusp of becoming a teenager. He’d been devastated. As had mom. Dorrie Parker worked hard to keep the perfect home, had come to soccer games and cheerleading practice. But after dad had died, it was like a light had gone off inside her. She’d pined for her husband and had never remarried.
I had no plans to let a man do that to me.
I pushed through a small crowd of people and ran straight into a hard body.
“Oh, sorry.” I pressed my hands to the man’s snowy-white jacket. I felt hard muscle and warmth.
Then I looked up into a familiar, handsome face. I blinked. He had dark-brown eyes that I couldn’t look away from.
“Hello,” my mystery man drawled.
My brain sort of stopped for a second. “Hi.” God, my voice was breathy. I sounded like a bad Marilyn Monroe impersonator.
“It looks like you need a drink.” His voice was deep and rich. “Allow me.” He held out an arm to me.
I didn’t even think. I just slipped my arm through his.
Mr. Mystery had even more impact up close. As my body brushed his, my belly clenched. He smelled like limes and spice, and exuded a quiet strength.
He led me to the bar, and people seemed to move out of his way. He lifted a hand, and the stunning black bartender brought a fancy cocktail glass over, along with a short tumbler filled with amber liquid.
“For you.” He handed me the cocktail glass.
“Thank you.” I closed my hands around the glass, thankful to have something other to do than stare.
“Are you enjoying the party?”
“Well, it’s fancy.” I took a sip of the drink, and flavors exploded on my tongue. “Mmm, this drink is good.” I leaned in closer and caught a whiff of his crisp cologne again. “Honestly, I’m not much of a party person.”
“I’m not, either,” he said. “Although I get dragged to more of these parties than I’d like.” He tugged the lapel of his jacket. “And I’m always forced to dress up.”
“I don’t mind the dress-up part.” And really, this man should dress up more often.
His gaze lowered, and he took his time as he studied my dress. Heat ignited in my belly.
That brown gaze came back to mine. “Actually, I don’t mind you dressing up, either.”
My throat tightened, and I felt tingles everywhere.
“So, why don’t you do many parties?” he asked.
“Work. I’m a bit of a workaholic.”
His lips quirked. “Me, too.”
“I love what I do, so it doesn’t bother me to work late.”
He nodded, and I could see he understood.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
I shook a finger at him. “No, don’t ruin it. I’m enjoying the air of fun and mystery.”
He paused. “Okay, Ms. Mystery.”
I smiled. “Don’t try saying that three times fast.”
He laughed.
God . It was a good laugh. Desire shot straight between my legs. I didn’t know what was going on. No man had ever affected me like this before. I could see he felt it, too, reflected in the intense way he watched me.
I took a big gulp of cocktail. “So, you work too much?”
He nodded. “Like you, I enjoy my work. I have my own business.”
“For me, it’s knowing my work will help people. It gives me purpose.”
“Mine too. Too many people look or walk away when they could help.”
He was a double whammy. A good guy and a feast for the eyes. I shifted, and my glittery black handbag slid off my shoulder and hit the floor.
“Dammit.” I crouched, gripping the hem of my dress so I didn’t flash anyone.
Mr. Mystery crouched too, and our faces were close.
Both our hands closed on the strap of my bag.
Looking at each other, we slowly rose. His fingers, bigger and darker, tangled with mine. His brown gaze stayed locked on my face.
“I noticed your mouth first,” he murmured.
I blinked. “Oh? It’s big. My brother used to tease me about it when we were kids.”
My companion reached out and stroked a thumb across my bottom lip. “I think it’s perfect.”
My heart raced, flutters going crazy in my belly. His touch felt electric, and I wanted him to touch me in other places. Anywhere.
I swallowed and licked my lips. It touched his thumb. There was a dangerous flash in his eyes.
“Shit,” he muttered as he stepped closer. He took my glass and set it with his on one of the tall tables that dotted the venue. Then that intense gaze came straight back to me. “I want to kiss you.”
My heart was beating so fast. “If that’s a question, even though this is crazy and I don’t kiss strange men that I’ve just met, it’s a yes.”
“Good.” He lowered his head.
I could barely breathe.
His mouth touched mine. A tantalizing brush of lips. The crowd disappeared and my lips parted. His tongue stroked inside my mouth, and I moaned. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of my head.
The room whirled. Like the Earth shifted on its axis. I pressed my hands to his hard chest to hold myself up.
I lost myself in the taste of him as he kissed me. It was a sexy exploration of teasing, tasting, and learning. He made a low humming sound.
His mouth lifted. Our lips still touched, both of us breathing heavily.
I pulled in air. “I need—”
Shouts broke out. I heard glass smash.
His head whipped up, and his eyes sharpened as he turned. A fight had started nearby. Two men in suits were shoving at each other.
I recognized the look in his eye. My father and Jack had both possessed it. The knowledge that there was trouble nearby, and they needed to wade in.
“I need to help,” he said.
I nodded, feeling dazed. “Go.”
He charged in, shouldering past several people. I watched him pull the fighting men apart. One was clearly drunk.
A second later, I saw Dante and Colton Fury appear. A big, tattooed man and an elegant man in a suit joined them. They all dove in, herding people back and calming down the chaos.
My guy waved at the security guards, who were closing in.
“Deal with them,” Dante ordered, his tone cold.
Then he turned and slapped my mystery man on the back. “Quick reflexes as always, Reath.”
Reath .
My world tipped again, and my stomach tightened.
Oh, no. No. No. No.
I’d just kissed Reath Fury.
I’d just kissed my brother’s best friend.
I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks. Panicked, I wheeled around and hurried through the crowd.
Jack would kill me.
God . This was why I never went out.
I made a beeline for the front door.