Perfectly Saucy

“You’ll look hot.”

Still doubtful, but determined to be saucy, she tugged on the boots before standing and looking down at her outfit. The skirt was a good ten inches shorter than anything she’d ever worn. The tank top exposed glimpses of her midriff every time she moved. And the boots…Well, let’s just say, if her mother ever saw her wearing them, she’d faint dead away into her martini glass.

Patricia sighed. “Alex would be on his knees begging if he could see you now.”

“That would be nice,” she said with a chuckle.

Patricia came to stand beside her. Shoulder to shoulder, they stared at their reflections in the mirror.

“Well, forget about Alex,” Patricia said. “You look so good you’ll have to pry men off you with a paint scraper! And I say, we don’t leave that club alone. We’ll definitely find you the perfect guy for your fling.”

Despite Patricia’s bravado, Jessica had her doubts. What she wanted was someone who would:

A. Drop everything to have a wild passionate fling with her.

B. Want her so passionately, he forgot everything but her. And,

C. Make her forget all about Alex.

Yep, that about summed it up. In other words, she wanted a freakin’ miracle. She didn’t need superhero boots, she needed Dorothy’s red shoes.

ALEX HAD NEVER BEEN one to find redemption at the bottom of a bottle. Then again—he mused as he tipped the longneck back—he’d never really looked for it there.

He emptied the beer then set it down on the faux wood tabletop. The condensation and the slight tilt of the uneven table legs pulled the bottle closer to the edge, but his brother, Tomas, grabbed it before it could crash to the floor.

The table—like the rest of the decor—was a little too slick for his taste. Music blasted from the bar’s sound system and a mile-long row of bottles lined the mirrored wall on the other side of the gleaming, polished bar. This wasn’t a real bar, it was bar lite. Purified for the yuppies. But Tomas was buying and it was Alex’s first night out since he’d arrived back in town. Who was he to complain?

“What do you think?” Tomas gestured at the room with his beer.

Alex hid his smile and his sarcastic comment. “It’s great. You come here often?”

Tomas took a sip from his bottle, but couldn’t hide his own mischievous smile. “Never been here before. I think it’s absolute crap. But thanks for lying.”

“If you think it’s crap, why’d you bring me?”

“You seemed like you needed to blow off a little steam.”

Even as he protested, he knew Tomas was right. He appreciated his brother’s efforts, but he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. The bar was little more than a pickup joint catering to Palo Verde’s growing yuppie population. The beautiful women were plentiful and scantily clad. And if he’d been interested, he probably could’ve snagged one.

But, right now, the only woman he wanted to take to bed was Jessica Sumners.

He told himself she was all wrong for him. They had nothing in common. Sleeping with her would get him nothing but a few moments’ pleasure. None of that mattered. None of that had driven her from his thoughts.

And—so far—neither had the beer he’d been drinking.

He picked up the empty bottle. “You want another one?”

Tomas nodded. “Sure.”

A few minutes later he was working his way back through the crowd, holding a pair of longnecks, when Jessica walked in. The way she was dressed, he almost didn’t recognize her, but her posture gave her away. Even in a bar, she had the bearing of a princess. The sight of her jerked him to a standstill.

She was with a friend…someone shorter and curvier with platinum-blond hair. Beside her friend, Jessica looked like a goddess—one of those water sprite things he’d read about in school, tall and willowy. Her honey-blond hair tumbled over her shoulder in gleaming waves. Her eyes widened and shifted nervously as she glanced around the room.

Then, almost as if she sensed him watching her, her gaze drifted to his. She took half a step back and bumped into the door behind her. Her eyes darted from his as she frowned and tugged on her shirt.

The action called his gaze to her clothes and his hands clenched the necks of the beer bottles. Her outfit was no more revealing than the clothes of any other woman in the bar and less so than many. Neither her clothes nor the gorgeous body underneath held his attention—though the combination packed a powerful punch. But, oh, man, her expression nearly ripped his guts out. A beguiling mixture of innocence and seduction. Of temptation and redemption. He raised one of the bottles to his lips and took a long, slow drink.