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guzzled my drink. I found out later Carter had them spiked and ordered two of them.'

A muscle ticked in Damian's jaw, his anger barely concealed.

'There's no love lost between you two, huh?' Micki asked.

'Forget me.' He slashed his hand through the air. 'What I want to know is who the hell raised him to treat women that way?'

So much for a slow lead-in, Micki thought. Impossible when he'd just given her the perfect opening. 'Such chivalry from a man who arrived with one woman on his arm and left with another?' She laced her words with teasing innuendo.

'It wasn't intentional,' he said, his tone surprisingly serious.

She couldn't argue with his comment and flushed hot, recalling exactly how she'd come on to him after he'd carried her out.

He tipped his head to one side, studying her with too much intense scrutiny for her comfort.

'You need to know that any woman I've ever been with knows the score and agrees to play by my rules.'

She swallowed hard and decided to face the consequences. 'Is that why you didn't close the deal last night? Because I was too drunk to agree to your rules, whatever they are?'

He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped closer to the bed. 'You remember it all, huh?'

She nodded. 'Just like I'm now sure youremember New Year's Eve.'

He exhaled hard and shut his eyes.

She was struck by the thick fringe of lashes, so sexy on a man. She also realized she was right. He did recall kissing her and had been avoiding and ignoring the fact ever since. Because he didn't find her attractive and didn't want to admit his mistake in the sobering light of day?

Whatever the reason, whatever his feelings toward her, she had to know and put this crazy attraction behind her once and for all.

'Look,' he said, sitting down by her side.

She ignored the rocking movement his big body caused and forced a steady gaze.

'You and I couldn't be more different,' he explained.

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. 'And you have so much in common with the other women in your life.'

To her shock, he burst out laughing. 'Touche'. Reaching out, he tenderly stroked her cheek. 'You're better than the rest of them,' he said gruffly. 'You deserve more than I could ever give. Especially while I'm still focused on keeping this career of mine alive.'

The intimate gesture and honest words took her off guard and her heart did a funny leap in her chest. And she finally understood. When it came to women, Damian lived by what he considered a gentleman's code. Get involved with easy women and don't worry about the damage left behind.

She didn't consider herself better than anyone else, but he was right about one thing. She wasn't the kind of woman up for a no-strings affair. Especially not when the dynamic was already complicated by emotion, the way it was for her.

'I understand' she said, letting him off the hook.

He shook his head. 'I don't think you do. I have three sisters. If anyone spiked their drink intending to take advantage of them, I'd string them up by their-' He cut himself off. 'Well, you get the picture. I wasn't about to take advantage of you.'

But had he wanted to? They had broached sensitive topics this morning. She wasn't ready to touch that one. 'I appreciate you looking out for me. You didn't just take care of me last night but you protected my business by calling Sophie.'

'It was the right thing to do.' He shifted on the bed, obviously uncomfortable with her gratitude.

For Damian, chivalry was inbred. Just because he'd come to her aid when she needed him, it didn't mean his views on women, relationships or her had changed, and she cautioned herself against softening her heart.

An awkward silence surrounded them and Micki struggled for something to say when a loud banging on the door sounded.

Damian was startled by the interruption but grateful, too. He hadn't expected such a private, intimate conversation between them. He also hadn't anticipated the warm feelings as he'd watched over her last night, then had seen her struggle to face her actions-and call him on his.

The knocking on the door continued and Damian glanced at Micki. 'Any idea who it could be?”

She shook her head, then shut her eyes tight against what must still be pain. 'I have no idea,' she said.

The banging grew louder. 'Micki Jordan, open the door or I'll kick it open myself!' a familiar voice yelled.

'Oh God, it's Uncle Yank.' Micki groaned and wiggled back under the covers, pulling the blankets over her head. 'He's going to kill me,' she said in a muffled voice.

Damian cursed. More like Yank was going to murder the man in Micki's room.

He headed for the door, drew a deep breath and let her uncle inside. 'Hi, Yank.'

'What the hell are you doing in here? Never mind, I don't want to know. I do want an answer to who's responsible for this.' He shoved a newspaper beneath Damian's nose.

The press. Damian had pushed Micki past the flashing bulbs last night without pausing or stopping. For her sake he'd hoped they hadn't gotten a good shot of her face and he thought the two of them had made a semi-decent getaway.

Obviously not. And though they were both used to the media, he as an athlete, she as a publicist, Micki certainly wouldn't have ever expected to be photographed in such a compromising position. And she didn't deserve to be. Or to have her hard-earned reputation in the business world trashed.

Damian recognized the New York daily and pulled the paper out of the older man's hand. On opening the page, he groaned at the full-color shot of himself carrying a half-dressed Micki out of Lacie's Lounge, Tampa's most notorious strip joint.

'Shit.”

Yank slammed the door shut behind him. 'Now what do you have to say for yourself, big shot?'

'Hey, keep it down,' Micki said from across the room.

'Get up, young lady, and explain this. What the devil are you doing with your dress hiked down, the twins on display and this clown carrying you out of a strip club?'

Micki pulled the covers off her head and faced her uncle. 'Damian saved me from being even more of an idiot,' she said, defending him at her own expense.

Everything this woman said or did surprised him. She'd been blindsided, given alcohol she hadn't asked for, and Damian never should have let her set foot in Lacie's in the first place.

'Let me see the paper,' Micki demanded.

He didn't see any point in arguing. Reluctantly, Damian walked over and held out the news.

She took in the picture and her skin turned paler, if such a thing were possible. “Those are my twins.'

Yank let out a disgusted sound. 'Since you're obviously hungover now and you normally don't drink, what gives?”

She pushed her curls off her face. 'A lot of it's still fuzzy but Carter spiked my drinks and I couldn't taste the added alcohol because of the spicy food.' She shut her eyes, obviously trying to remember more.

Damian found himself touched by her fragile vulnerability, making him want to protect her even more.

'I'm going to rip his nuts off,' her uncle growled, breaking any tender moment Damian had been experiencing.

'Get in line,' Damian muttered.

'If Atkins represented him, Carter would be dog shit. Unfortunately he's a Cambias client,' he said, referring to one of the newer, younger, money-hungry agents.

Damian knew both Yank and Atkins Associates were losing clients to men like Cambias. The older players possessed agent loyalty but the younger ones, like Carter, only cared about contracts, perks and cold, hard cash.

'Eventually he'll bury himself.' Micki rose from her bed, glanced down at her T-shirt and shot Damian a questioning glance.