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meant to establish intimacy, to take the sting out of the way she’d addressed him and that glimpse he’d had of Ilana’s raised eyebrows.
    And, while he was at it, the kiss was to remind her of her function here tonight.
    For those reasons, no other, Lucas took his supposed mistress in his arms and kissed her. It wasn’t even much of a kiss, just a light brush of his mouth over hers.
    But her lips were warm. Silken. Her little “oh” of shocked breath was warm, too, and tasted of mint. Toothpaste, he thought in surprise, a taste that didn’t quite go with the sexy dress, the do-me shoes, and.
    And, he stopped thinking.
    Everything around him faded. The crowd. The noise. TheRostovs. It was as if each of his senses was solely concentrated on the woman in his arms.
    Lucas drew her closer. Slid one hand to the base of her spine and lifted her slightly, just enough so that she fit the contours of his body while he cupped her face with his other hand.
    He felt the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest. The tilt of her hips against his. The delicate arc of her cheekbone under his fingers.
    Felt himself turn hard as granite.
    His lips parted hers. She made a little whisper of sound and he thought,
Yes, that’s it, kiss me back.
    She did. For a heartbeat. Then she stiffened. She was going to pull away.
    He told himself, with admirable logic, that he couldn’t permit that. If they were lovers, she would be eager for his kisses. Anytime. Anywhere. Not just in bed.
    Which made him imagine her in his bed, her hair spilling in golden disarray over his pillows, her eyes hot with hunger as he entered her.
    Dani sank her small, sharp teeth into his lip.
    “Cristos!”
Lucas jerked back. Touched the spot with his finger. No blood, nothing but a flash-fire rush of fury.
    Rostov roared with laughter. Ilana’s eyebrows sought refuge in her hairline. And Dani…Dani looked as if she might turn and run and, damnit, he could not let that happen!
    Lucas’s life had taught him many lessons. Quick recovery. Damage control. Self-control. He needed all those skills now. Somehow, he managed a smile as he wrapped his hand around the blonde’s slender wrist. She’d have to wrestle herself free of his grasp and he was betting she wouldn’t let that happen.
    “Now, sweetheart,” he said, his smile changing, going sexy and intimate, “you know we don’t play those games in public.”
    Another laugh from Rostov. A pause, and then a little sigh from Ilana.
    And the best reward of all, the cold pleasure of seeing crimson sweep into his defiant translator’s beautiful face.
    “No,” she said, “we—you and I—we don’t pl—”
    “Exactly, darling. We don’t.” She looked as if she were torn between embarrassment and the desire to murder him, and that made it easier for him to tug her closer, curve his arm around her waist and hold her captive against his body. “If you want your reward, you have to wait until the evening ends. You know that, Dani.”
    He knew the second his message registered. If she wanted his thousand dollars, she’d have to play the role Jack Gordon had crafted for her.
    “Understand, sweetheart?”
    Her eyes flashed. No embarrassment now, no fear. “I understand completely—
sweetheart.”
    Lucas laughed. The lady had guts. He had to admit, he liked that in her. He wasn’t accustomed to it. Women rarely stood up to him. Well, not until he ended a relationship and then some of them balked, but flying into a rage wasn’t the same thing as standing up to him.
    Rostov elbowed him in the side. “Your lady is vildcat, Luke-ahs.”
    Yes. She was.
    She was a great many things. Beautiful. Bright. Skilled in Russian—he had no proof of that yet but, somehow, he felt no reason to doubt it. Add the sweet taste of her mouth, the alluring scent of her skin, the lush feel of her against him and she was an intriguing package, the embodiment of sex and intellect rolled into one.
    Except for her name.
    It didn’t