Fevered Nights

Now? Well, she’d had a few troubling years. And Modelle insisted their models’ characters be above reproach. After Piper’s arrest in the cruise terminal, Modelle had threatened no new contracts. Since then, Piper had been conspicuously well behaved.

Yet here she was, back in South Beach. Maybe she should send the naval officer a note, canceling.

* * *

“NOW, THAT WAS WALKING, talking trouble right there.” Neil’s buddy Clay lifted his shot glass toward the platform workmen were disassembling outside.

“The trophy girl?” Neil plunked down on a bar stool and ordered a beer. He glanced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the yacht club’s dining room. The curvy beauty who’d handed him the trophy didn’t look like trouble. Regal. Haughty even. Although that could’ve been the slight British tones in her Indian accent. But there’d been something...fragile about her, as well. And passionate. That kiss had sizzled. “What’s up with her? One minute she’s kissing me for all she’s worth and the next she’s freezing me out.”

“Well, what’d you expect? Her last boyfriend was a French billionaire.”

Neil paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips. “Why? Who is she?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “You been living under a rock? That’s Piper.”

Neil gave him a blank look. “Piper who?”

Clay shook his head in disbelief. “She’s a famous model. You’ve never seen her in those Desiree’s Desire commercials?” Clay whistled. “And that bikini she wore on the cover of SportsWorld last year? She’s the most notorious bad girl on the planet.”

A lingerie model? Oh, yeah, he could easily picture her in something sexy like that. Neil’s body heated. He was going to have to start paying more attention to lingerie.

“She snubbed the Queen of England,” Clay said, counting off with his fingers. “Crashed a Lamborghini.” Another finger rose. “Dated and then cheated on Hollywood royalty Brad Benton and last but not least was detained by port authorities, returning from Mexico a few months back.”

“Whoa, Bellamy, you read all those celebrity rags while you’re at the salon having your nails done?”

“You’re a real funny guy, Barrow.” Clay spoke with the long, lazy drawl only someone raised in the Deep South can own. “I hear all that stuff from my mother. She lives and breathes it.”

Neil grinned. It felt good to get Clay Bellamy on the defensive for once. “Your mother’s a saint.”

Clay’s eyes narrowed. “The woman you met is real different from when she raised me.”

Neil sipped his beer as he studied the sunset through the wall of windows. Clay never talked about his childhood in Alabama. Neil could only guess it hadn’t been idyllic. But then, whose was? His own mother fell into the same category. She only seemed like a saint to the public.

Though Neil didn’t mind donating his time to her charities, he preferred swinging a hammer for Build a Home rather than racing some rich dudes up and down the Miami coast. But at least it helped the children’s hospital foundation. One of his mother’s high-profile pet projects that looked good on the resume of a senator’s wife.

Would he have asked the trophy girl out if he’d known she was a famous model? She was mouthwateringly gorgeous. Creamy caramel-colored skin, delicate cheekbones and full lips. Her long, straight black hair fell almost to her waist. She was tall and slender, but not bone thin like the runway models he’d seen. Her sleeveless pink dress hugged some substantial curves.

But it was her eyes that had captivated him. Neil couldn’t get the image of the woman’s luminous light green eyes out of his head.

And whether she actually showed tonight or not, he intended to enjoy what was left of his week’s leave. Take his mind off Lyndsey and the divorce. Or rather, the almost divorce. Had she signed the papers yet? His attorney had assured him it was just a formality. He was supposed to overnight the final papers to Neil as soon as Lyndsey signed. Neil wanted the whole mess over with.

He tore his gaze away from the purple-and-pink-streaked sky and cleared his throat. “Well, sorry to ditch you, bro, but the lingerie model’s meeting me here for dinner in...” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes.”

“Hmm, what do you know? Straight Arrow Barrow hooking up with bad-girl Piper. This calls for a toast.” Clay gestured to the bartender for a refill of his shot glass. “I guess our weekend plans to raise hell are getting off to a good start.”

“You’re the one who said we’d raise hell down here, not me.”

Clay shrugged. “I thought it’d do you some good. You been living like a monk since the separation.”

“Didn’t know you cared, Bellamy.”

That remark earned him a rude gesture. But the idea of veering from the straight and narrow appealed to Neil. And an affair with the hot cover model would be the sweetest cure for the contagion that seemed to have spread in his soul ever since he’d returned from a tour in Afghanistan to find his wife in bed with her lover.

Despite a lifetime spent trying to do the right thing, nearly killing himself to be the best, to make his father proud, all his efforts had come crashing down nine months ago.

Though now he could see that things had been crumbling for years.

Clay thumped the second shot glass upside down on the bar next to the first one. “Least now I can fly back to Little Creek knowing you’ll be just fine down here for the rest of your leave.”

Neil chuckled. He and Clay had been pals since BUD/S, standing next to each other in lineup, two last names starting with B. Surviving the training course in Coronado, freezing their petunias off Hell Week. Going through all that alongside another guy tended to cement a friendship.

Clay clapped his shoulder. “Man, an affair with the Piper. Just come up for air every once in a while, okay? You want to be able to walk after your leave is over.”

Neil’s beer slid down the wrong pipe and he choked and coughed while Clay slapped him hard on the back.

“Jeez, Bellamy. You work hard at being crude or does it just come natural? I’m down here for a little R and R, that’s all. I’m going to hire a boat and do some deep-sea fishing, maybe sail down to the Keys...”

Clay raised his brows. “Fine, but this weekend our objective was to find us some women and go wild. And since you’re already mission accomplished, I’m down one wingman tonight.”

“Tomorrow we’ll hit that honky-tonk you wanted to check out. Now get out of here.”

Clay stood and saluted. “Suh, yes, suh!” Then pivoted on his heel and headed for the exit. As Clay took off, in walked the long-legged model in a slinky short black dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. She’d actually showed.

But now that he knew who the woman was, he couldn’t see the dinner going anywhere. The illustrious Piper probably wouldn’t give him the time of day. He was no Brad Benton. Besides, celebrity models and navy SEALs lived worlds apart, right?

Still, she’d agreed to dinner. So who knew?

When Piper passed Clay, his friend turned around to walk backward, wiggling his brows behind her back.

Neil ignored him. His attention was riveted on Piper. She brushed her long hair behind one ear and gave him a hesitant smile. Neil swallowed.

Oh, he sure hoped she wanted to be bad tonight.

2 (#ulink_d5cb27c1-7658-529f-ba88-39d110830982)

PIPER WAS DETERMINED to be good tonight.

But looking into the navy lieutenant’s flashing eyes, she had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d changed into a dark suit with a crisp white dress shirt. But no tie. And he smelled nice. Clean, musky, subtle. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He pushed away from the bar at her approach, and there was a sense of carefully controlled power in his stance. She guessed the military training must be ingrained in him. He was older than she was. With the crinkles around his eyes, she’d say he was in his early to midthirties.

He nodded toward the dining room. “Would you like to eat here or...?”

“Are you a member?”

“Me? No, I live in Virginia.” He smiled. “But I know a guy who is.”

She paused. Surprisingly, Ragi had readily approved of Piper’s impromptu date, suggesting that she bring the lieutenant to the gala. It seemed he was a decorated SEAL whose father was a US senator. Being seen on his arm would be worth more than a dozen pictures with the Miami mayor. So her job tonight was to get her name linked with a military hero’s.