Damien's Mate - Anastasia Wilde Page 0,2
his eyes, and she was alone, leaning against a pillar and sipping her drink.
He opened his jacket slightly to give her the answer to her question.
He wore his gun in a shoulder holster.
She winked at him, and then mimed turning the napkin over.
It said: I might have to fix my makeup in about… five minutes. In one of those little powder rooms behind the staircase. It was signed, Lila.
Damien stared at the words. It was a dangerous game—Rostov would probably be pissed off to the point of murder if he caught Damien messing with his lady. And Vic Salzano had been known to shoot guys caught screwing around on the job.
On the other hand, Damien was going to get shot tonight anyway.
Might as well go out with a bang.
Chapter 2
Five minutes later, the woman in the red dress disappeared from the ballroom.
Knowing it was fucking insane, Damien texted Marco, I’m going to take a leak.
Marco nodded, but immediately texted someone else. Probably Tony the Hammer. Tony was stationed near the lavatories, in front of the locked door to the private part of the house.
The door could only be opened with a keycard, but Salzano still had someone there to make sure no one got through who shouldn’t.
If Damien didn’t go past Tony’s station on the way to supposedly pee, they’d come looking for him. It was like being in fucking first grade again, except the hall monitors were better armed.
Damien walked out of the ballroom and back toward the lavatories. He should probably be making a break out the back door, but for some reason he just didn’t fucking care anymore.
It was like he’d already given up on his sorry excuse for a life, and was just going to do one more crazy-ass thing before exiting in a hail of gunfire.
Or rather, he was going to do one more crazy-ass woman.
Hell, when the time came, maybe he would kill Rostov. Then at least the girl would have the chance to start over.
He passed Tony the Hammer, giving him a two-fingered salute, and turned down the dead-end hallway that led to the lavatories. Two separate powder rooms on each side, single-holers, with their own gold-plated faucets and little crystal chandeliers.
He didn’t see the woman in red.
Hell, had he come to the wrong place? Or had she just been leading him on?
Then the nearest lavatory door opened. A hand shot out and grabbed his arm, and he was dragged inside.
She was stronger than she looked, and Damien stumbled a little, catching himself with a hand on the brocade wallpaper.
The door shut behind him and he heard the lock click. Then Lila hiked herself up on the vanity, the slit in her dress exposing her tanned thigh all the way up to her hip.
Wow.
“Hey there,” she said, mischief in her eyes. “You came.”
“Not yet,” he said, eyes still on all that warm golden skin.
He usually wasn’t quite that blunt, but tonight he didn’t fucking care about that either. She just gave a throaty laugh and shifted so the dress hiked even higher.
Lord have mercy.
“Want a drink?” she asked. “I brought the good stuff.”
Somewhere she’d acquired a bottle of top-shelf whiskey and two glasses. She poured them drinks and handed him one. “To new friends,” she said, holding up her glass for a toast.
“I’m Damien,” he said. “To new friends.” They clinked glasses, and she held his gaze with hers. Her eyes were golden-green like a cat’s—for a second he even imagined he saw the pupils elongate into slits, but he blinked and the moment was gone.
Damien tossed back the drink, and she did the same. The whiskey hit the back of his throat smooth as silk, and warmed him all the way to his belly. He’d missed out on the steak dinner and the great-grandkids, but he had the whiskey and the hot woman, so maybe that was all he could ask of his death-day fantasy.
It sure beat bleeding out in an alley.
Lila pulled him closer, guiding his hand to her exposed thigh, then tilted her head and traced the line of his neck with her lips, barely touching the skin.
His whole body came alive with a tingling electricity. She was wearing some kind of musky scent that filled the room, surrounding him in a cocoon of pleasure and desire.
He’d never felt an attraction so powerful and so instant with anyone.
He put the glass down and dug his fingers into her hair the way he’d been dying to do since he first saw