Two

      Luke’s first instinct was to grab hold of the woman who had dropped into his lap from out of nowhere. She smiled up at him, and he felt a punch of desire slam into his chest. When she squirmed on his lap, he felt that punch a lot lower.

      “What the hell?” He looked into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes and realized she was laughing.

      “Sorry, sorry!” She squirmed again, and he instantly held her still. “I guess I stumbled on something. Thank God you were here, or I’d have fallen onto something a lot harder.”

      He didn’t know about that. He felt pretty damn hard at the moment. And wet. He felt wet, as the wine she’d been carrying now seeped into his shirt and pants. Even as he thought it, she half turned around, grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed at the wine splashed across her blouse, then started in on his shirt. If she tried to dry his pants, he was a dead man.

      “What’d you trip on?” He glanced down at the floor and saw nothing.

      “I don’t know,” she admitted, then shrugged helplessly. “Sometimes I trip on air.”

      “Good to know.”

      She tipped her head to one side and long, dark brown hair slid across her shoulders. “Are you going to let me up?”

      It wasn’t his first thought. “Are you going to fall again?”

      “Well, I’m not sure,” she admitted with a grin. “Anything’s possible.”

      “Then maybe it’s safer if you stay where you are,” Luke mused, still caught by the smile in those brown eyes of hers.

      She started her fruitless dabbing at his shirt again. Not unlike trying to soak up the ocean with a sponge.

      “Yeah,” he said, taking the napkin from her. “Never mind.”

      “Well, I do feel badly about this,” she said.

      “Me, too.”

      “In all fairness, though,” she pointed out, “I got plenty of the wine on my shirt, as well.”

      “And that should make me happy?”

      She shrugged and her dark green off-the-shoulder shirt dipped a bit.

      Instantly, his gaze dropped to the full swell of her breasts and he wondered if he’d get more of a look if she shrugged again. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he saw a knowing smile.

      A waiter hustled up to them with several napkins, then just stood there as if unsure what his next move should be. Luke could sympathize.

      Finally, the waiter asked, “Are you all right, miss?”

      “Oh, I’m fine.”

      She was fine. He was being tortured but, apparently, no one cared about that.

      “I’m so sorry, Mr. Barrett. Is there anything I can do?”

      “No,” he said grimly. “I think it’s all been done.”

      “Well, there is one thing…” His mystery lap dancer spoke up. “My wine’s gone.” She held up the empty glass like it was a visual aid.

      “And I know where it went,” Luke muttered.

      The waiter looked from Luke to the woman and back again. Still unsure. Still worried. Luke was used to that. He was rich. His family was famous. Most people got nervous around him. And he hated that. So he forced a smile and said, “Would you get the lady another glass of wine, Michael?”

      “Certainly. What were you drinking, miss?”

      “Chardonnay, thanks. The house wine’s fine.”

      Luke frowned and shook his head. “I think we can do better than that, can’t we, Michael?”

      The waiter grinned. “Yes, sir.”

      When the man left, Luke looked into those chocolate eyes again. “So, since you’re sitting on my lap, I think it’s only right I know your name.”

      “Oh, I’m Fiona. Fiona Jordan.” She held out a hand to him.

      He glanced at it and smirked. “I think we’ve already moved past a handshake, don’t you?”

      “I think we have,” she said. “And since your lap is being so welcoming, maybe I could know your name? Last name Barrett, according to the waiter. First name?”

      “Luke.”

      She tipped her head to one side and studied him for a long second or two. “I like it. Short. Strong. Sounds like a romance novel hero.”

      This had to be the strangest conversation he’d ever had.

      Nodding, he confessed, “You found my secret. By day, I’m a tech-toy developer. But at night, I’m a pirate or a lord or a Highlander.”

      She gave him a wide grin, and that punch of desire hit him harder. “How is it you know so much about romance novels?”

      “My grandmother goes through a dozen every week. I grew up seeing books with half-dressed men and women on the covers scattered around the house.”

      “A well-rounded childhood, then.”

      Luke thought about that and had to say, she was right. In spite of losing his parents when he was just a child, Luke’s grandparents had saved him. They’d given him normalcy again. Made sure that though his world had been rocked, it hadn’t been completely destroyed.

      His lips quirked. “I always thought so.”

      “I envy you,” she said simply, and before he could comment, the waiter was back.

      Michael hurried up, carrying a glass of wine for Fiona and a refill of Luke’s scotch. He set both glasses on the table and said, “On the house, Mr. Barrett. And again, we’re very sorry about—”

      “You don’t have to apologize, Michael,” Fiona told him. “I’m the clumsy one.”

      The man winced. “Oh, I wouldn’t say clumsy…”

      “That’s because you don’t smell like chardonnay,” Luke put in wryly.

      Michael nodded again before he scurried away.

      “I think you scared him,” Fiona said as she watched the man rush back to the bar.

      “I think you’re the one who scared him. Pretty women can have that effect on a man,” Luke countered.

      She turned back and literally beamed at him. “But not you?”

      “I’m immune.”

      “Good to know,” she said, smiling. “Does that mean I should give up or try even harder to be scary?”

      “Oh, definitely keep trying.” Luke grinned. Hell, he liked a woman this sure of herself. Well, to be honest, he just liked women. But a strong, gorgeous one with a sense of humor was right at the top of the list. And this one was more intriguing than most. It had been a long time since a woman had made this kind of impact on him. He laughed to himself at that thought, because she had landed on him with both physical and emotional impacts.

      He took a quick look at the whole package. Long, dark brown hair, those chocolate eyes, a wide mouth, now curved in a smile, and a body that filled his mind with all kinds of interesting images. That green shirt looked great on her, and the full black skirt was short enough to showcase some great legs. The mile-high black heels just put the finishing touches on the whole picture. Oh yeah,