Carly Phillips - Hot Number

Take Micki to his island retreat? "Give me a break."

"The guys told me how you goaded Micki, telling her you couldn't see her hanging out at a strip club"

"I still can't." But he knew Yank was baiting him and as Damian waited for the old man to reel him in, he stiffened, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Yank cleared his throat, "Well, any idiot would know my Micki's pride would push her to do exactly what you insinuated she couldn't do. Add to that you played on her weakness." Yank poked him in the chest accusingly.

Damian frowned at that accusation. "What weakness? What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

But even as he spoke, Micki's self-deprecating words came back to him. Good old Micki, one of the guys, she'd said. And how had he replied? If you say so.

"Holy hell." How had his life gotten so complicated in less than twenty-four hours?

"I see you get it now." Yank nodded, pleased.

And Damian resigned himself to the inevitable. "I have a full staff on the island. They'll take good care of her."

"You’ll take good care of her. No way will you dump her on the island and take off. You understand?"

Damian understood all right. Him, Micki, a luxurious house, a staff, a beach and time alone. He was so screwed.

"I'll tell her you arranged for your private plane to take her back to New York. You can deal with her from there." Yank let out a laugh. "I don't envy you when she realizes she's been had, but I'm sure it'll build you some character."

“I didn't know I needed any." Damian shoved his hands into his jeans pocket.

Just then, Micki walked out of the bathroom, her face freshly washed and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She'd put on sweats in addition to the large shirt he'd chosen last night but her eyes were still glassy and red.

"I want to go home " she said. 'I promise to lay low once I’m there. There's a difference between running away and being cautious about the agency's reputation."

"We were just discussing that," Damian said.

"I'm not in any shape to argue with you two-?”.

"And we're not going to fight you. You obviously know what's best" Damian hated lying to her, especially when he'd be the one to face her anger later, but Yank counted on him to get her away from emotional harm. He only hoped she'd thank him and not throttle him when they reached his island retreat.

He sighed. He'd bought the place for himself and had never before taken a woman there. He didn't have a good feeling about doing so now.

Yank glanced around the hotel room he'd booked for the night. Sophie would be staying next door, probably so she could keep an ear out for him. But he couldn't be pissed. Sophie was a good girl. When she'd gotten the call about her sister being in trouble, she'd contacted him and they'd hightailed it to Florida pronto. Yank was proud of the girls and how they stuck together.

At this point he was proud of himself, too. He couldn't have planned a better way to get Micki and Damian together. Micki had tried to fight it, of course. She'd wanted Damian to attend the autism event, but under Yank's glare, Damian had insisted on accompanying her on her flight home instead.

If Yank had had any qualms about Damian, they'd been erased last night when he'd taken care of Micki. Yes, those two would be a dang good fit-as long as Damian could handle her when she found out they'd lied and shipped her off to a remote island.

With Micki settled, hopefully soon, he could turn his sights to Sophie. His sights. Now that was a good joke.

If you listen to Sophie, you might have a chance to save your eyesight. There was that voice again.

Yank cursed aloud. "Yeah well and then what'll have? My eyesight and a lonely life." Though he had no trouble fixing up his nieces, when it came to himself, Yank had concluded he was more afraid of commitment than he was of his condition. If he avoided fixing his eyesight, he had an excuse not to fix his relationship with Lola.

He smacked his hand against the wall and an electronic voice said, "Twelve fifty-five p.m." He'd lied when he'd told the girls he didn't need the watch. It was so much easier than squinting into the fog to try and read the numbers on the tiny face.

Never thought you were a coward. He didn't know if the voice was referring to his eyesight or letting Lola go. Either way, that voice was right. But at least as far as his eyes went, he'd made a big decision, one all three girls would agree with.

He decided he'd been acting like a pansy. Sophie had made him a doctor's appointment first thing Monday morning. He intended to keep it. It was time for him to deal with his health because he couldn't make any decisions about his personal life until that issue had been resolved.

No woman will wait around that long.

Maybe, Yank thought, but that was a risk he'd have to take.

MICKI TAPPED HER FINGERS against the armrest and stared out the window of Damian's private jet, waiting for takeoff. He brought her a drink, Coke with lots of ice, and settled in beside her.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful because I really do appreciate you getting me home quickly, but why didn't you go over to the camp and salvage what was left of the day? I could have gotten home myself"

He tipped his head to the side and met her gaze. "You said yourself, I'm a gentleman"

"And my uncle's playing on that particular quality to get you to look out for me." She let out a huff of breath. "I'm perfectly capable of taking myself home, you know. I certainly won't make the same mistake twice." Especially since most of last night was coming back to her-piece by humiliating piece.

“Nobody blames you for what happened," he assured her. "Now shut your eyes and get some sleep." He patted her hand and the warmth caused her heart to skip a beat.

She still wasn't operating at one hundred percent and decided a nap was a good idea. When she woke, they were landing, the jarring noise of the engines and the atmospheric shift rousing her from sleep.

Her head still ached as did her muscles. She stretched and glanced at Damian. "I feel like I've only been out about an hour." She looked down at her watch. "I have only been sleeping for an hour. Why are we landing?" She gripped the armrests and her stomach flipped in sheer panic. "What’s wrong with the plane?”

"Nothing" he said in a soothing voice that would have worked if she believed him.

Micki glanced out the window at the landscape below. "There are palm trees down there so either we're making an emergency landing or we turned back to Florida or-"

"We're landing on a semi-private island," he said, obviously telling her the truth.

Micki stared first at the blue sky and southern landscape and then into Damian's deep eyes. "I'm going to kill you and my uncle.” But right now, Damian was the only one within spitting distance. "How could you?"

She shot him a scathing glare, not seeing the sexy man or the guy who'd been her savior. Instead she saw the man who'd betrayed her trust and discounted her ability to decide what was best for herself.

“Micki-"

“Turn the plane around," she ordered.

"I can't. I promised your uncle I'd get you away for awhile."

"What about what I want?”

He shook his head. In his eyes, she saw true regret but in the set of his jaw she read a determination to stay the course.

"Then I’ll just leave on the next flight" The plane, which had been taxiing, slowed to a stop.

"There is no next flight unless I schedule one." He rose from his seat and extended his arm toward her. "Come on. Let's make the best of this."

She smacked his hand away and strode ahead of him, furious beyond words.

"Welcome to paradise," he said as he followed her out of the small plane.

She ignored him and planned to do so for the foreseeable future.

Once on the ground, Damian steered her directly to the hunter-green Jeep Wrangler waiting for them on the runway. He excused himself to see about the luggage but returned five minutes later with an annoyed scowl on his face and no bags in his hands.

"Where's our luggage?" she asked.

"Apparently it's still in Florida. Someone claiming to be me called and told the people at the terminal to hold on to it there."

Now Micki frowned. "And they didn't find it odd that you didn't want your suitcase on board along with you?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes I bring a bag, other times I don't since I have clothing down here. It was a misunderstanding and there's nothing we can do about it until the bags are flown in tomorrow."

"I don't plan on being here long enough for that. As soon as you can arrange it, I want to go back to New York."

He ran a hand through his hair, obviously at his wits' end. "How about we go back to my, place and you can call your uncle and sister from there? Then you can figure out what you want to do. If it makes you happy, you can leave first thing tomorrow. You must be wiped out, so as long as you're already here, use the time to get some rest."

She tapped her foot against the blacktop, the desire to head home warring with the temptation he offered. She might be furious but that didn't mean she wasn't exhausted, too. Besides, she had to admit she was curious about this gorgeous retreat.

"Okay, that's fine," she said, trying to sound grateful when all she really wanted was to strangle him and her uncle for manipulating her this way. "But I want you to arrange a flight out tomorrow."

"We'll see."

As she climbed into his Jeep Wrangler she growled.

DAMIAN'S TROPICAL RETREAT literally took Micki's breath away. Tall palm trees and lush plants dotted the landscape made more beautiful by the expanse of blue sky above them. Despite her anger, he kept up a steady flow of one-sided conversation she couldn't help but listen to with rapt interest.

So far she'd learned that there was one small town and five major estates on the entire island, none within walking distance of the others. The wealthy neighbors rarely crossed paths, while in the town-which supplied the necessities for the visiting inhabitants-the neighbors hung out, gossiped and treated each other like family. That, she discovered, was why Damian loved the place.

He could find either privacy or a sense of small-town kinsmanship, whichever he desired at the moment. On first glance at the island, Micki completely understood his reasoning, but she wasn't about to tell him so. Because she wasn't speaking to him unless she absolutely had to.

"My sisters and their families use the house on their vacations," he said as he continued to drive.

"I'm not in the mood for idle chitchat."

"There's not much else to do to pass the time during the ride."

He wanted to talk? She'd talk. "You brought me here against my will. I think that's called kidnapping."

"So sue me." He laughed. "Your uncle wanted you to have some peace until this blew over and there's nowhere more peaceful than Casa de Fuller."

She didn't know who she was more upset with, her family for treating her like a baby or Damian for buying into it. "It was one picture in a New York newspaper. I can handle the fallout."

"I'm sure you can," he said in a soothing voice.

"If you believe that, then why bring me here?"

"Your uncle asked me to. Since the photo showed you out of control, the publicist who can't practice what she preaches, Yank's worried. And since I had a role in last night's mess, he holds me responsible. The least I could do was help fix things."

Damian's gentlemanly side was rearing its head again. "What role are you referring to?" she asked. "That of savior?"

He gripped the wheel more tightly. "Instigator. I got the definite feeling that when you saw me with Carole, it set you off somehow."

"Who's Carole?" she asked, deliberately playing dumb.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing grin. "My date last night."

"Date? Is that what you call her?" Micki asked and immediately could have bitten her tongue in two.

She might not want to reveal her insecurities, but she didn't have to insult another woman just because she was jealous of Damian's interest in someone so feminine.

"It wasn’t you or your date that set me off. Not exactly." As she glanced down at her unpainted fingernails, the words she kept inside of her spilled free. "I've always been the tomboy in the family, I guess because of how close I was to Uncle Yank. When my parents died I trailed after my uncle like he was a god." From the day she'd gone to live with him, Uncle Yank had always been there, the most dominant presence in her life.