Oh, Naughty Night!. Leslie Kelly

There was no way they could have any kind of future, not with all the baggage and the family issues. Besides, he was an internationally traveling reporter—and she intended to stay right here and change the world in other ways.

      Meaning if something happened between them, it had to be a one-shot deal. Something with no drama, no angsting, no questions even.

      Which meant Chaz could never know the truth.

      If she slept with him tonight, she had to make damn sure he never found out who she actually was. And that meant she had to stay in control.

       2

      CHAZ HAD MET plenty of beautiful women before.

      He’d traveled all over the world covering stories of glamorous spies, interacting with powerful politicians and sexy stars. He’d had a few more lovers than a nice small-town-boy should probably ever admit to having. He’d been in love once, infatuated twice, and in lust dozens of times. But he’d never felt his heart stop beating in his chest at the sight of a woman’s smile.

      Until tonight. Until her.

      This stranger, this redhead with a half mask that made her dark eyes gleam nearly black, had a smile that could stop the world on its axis. Her amazing body and mysteriously beautiful face had caught his eye the minute he’d entered. But that smile...nations could rise or fall on a smile like that. And now, having her in his arms, he knew there wasn’t much he wouldn’t give to make sure this night ended just as he’d told her he wanted it to. Whether he ever learned her name or not.

      “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked when she settled back into his arms, her clumsiness an adorable indicator that she was interested, maybe even turned on, by his suggestive comments.

      The music changed, the torchy song swinging into something a little faster, but neither of them separated. They continued the sexy, sultry glide of hip to hip, thigh on thigh.

      “My thoughts’ll cost you a nickel,” she said, her voice a bit deeper, throatier than before. As if she was intentionally ratcheting up the flirtation level. She’d gone from sweet to sexy, if only in her tone.

      “Inflation sucks.”

      “Okay, the first one’s free. One of the things I was thinking is that I should thank you for preventing me from falling on my ass in front of all of these people.”

      “Those are some dangerous shoes you’re wearing.”

      “It’s not the shoes,” she admitted.

      “So, it’s the company?”

      “More like the conversation.”

      “Should I apologize?”

      She snagged a lush lower lip between her teeth, and slowly shook her head. “No. Please don’t. I like a man who says what’s really on his mind. That’s pretty rare.”

      “Especially in this city. Honesty is a lost art here.”

      She glanced down toward the floor, toward those oh-so-sexy shoes with the silver chains that resembled handcuffs. Damn, the moment he’d spotted them, they’d put some seriously wicked ideas in his head.

      Lately, he’d been living in a high-adrenaline, high-risk zone. People in those situations couldn’t hesitate to take risks, even though they never knew what dangers might be lurking around the corner. He apparently hadn’t gotten out of that mindset—out of the need to go for what you wanted the moment you spotted it, because you might not get another chance.

      Maybe if he’d met her a week from now, he’d never have told this beautiful stranger what he was really thinking. Maybe as soon as tomorrow, he’d regret having done it.

      At this moment, though, looking at her luscious mouth and losing himself in those dark, deep-set eyes, he didn’t regret a damn thing.

      “Are you really not going to give me your name?”

      She hesitated.

      “Do I have to pay for that, too? I’m not sure I have enough nickels. Or any American money at all, to be honest.”

      “So I take it I’m buying the first round?”

      “Maybe we can go somewhere else where the drinks are cheaper,” he said, staring intently into her dark eyes, wishing he could see her whole face without the admittedly sensual mask.

      There was something erotic about her anonymity. He had no doubt she was beautiful beneath the mask, but couldn’t deny the anticipation of removing it was exciting.

      “Where did you have in mind?”

      “I live a couple of blocks from here.”

      She licked those lips, sending another sharp stab of lust surging through him. Damn, the woman was getting to him with every single breath she took. He’d been sexually on edge since he’d left for his trip a few months ago, and certainly hadn’t had any relief during it. Now, knowing her all of fifteen minutes, he was ready to rip her sexy bustier open, yank her skirt off, and explore every delicious inch of her.

      “That’s certainly something to keep in mind,” she said. “But didn’t you say we were backing up? I think you’re directionally challenged. That was pretty forward.”

      He laughed, enjoying her bluntness, her humor. She was refreshing, challenging and sharp. He was starting to like her as well as want her.

      “Okay. Sorry. Backing up.” The music changed, and he said, “Want to go grab a drink? At the bar, not at my place.”

      She nodded and let him lead her toward the bar. He shouldered his way in, calling their drink orders to one of the harried-looking bartenders.

      “Do you need money?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I was kidding. I can cover it.”

      She stuck out her hand. “Okay, then, where’s my nickel?”

      Laughing, enjoying everything about her, he dug a coin out of his pocket and dropped it into her hand.

      “Ahh, the beautiful feel of cold hard nickels.”

      Drinks in hand, he led her away from the table where she’d been sitting with her friends. No way did he want to sit with the shark who’d eyed him like he was chum. He had to wonder what this woman had been doing with somebody like that, since she didn’t seem at all on-the-make as her dark-haired friend did, or, actually, as innocent as the lighter-haired one seemed.

      His witch was just right.

      Heading toward a small empty high-top in the corner, he put their drinks on it, and then helped her hop up onto a stool. She crossed one leg over the other. The position revealed a devastatingly sexy length of thigh, and he swallowed hard as he took his seat opposite her.

      He sipped the drink, having gotten the special for himself, and grimaced. “Yeah. Cough syrup.”

      “I warned ya.”

      “I had to try one holiday-themed drink, and the only other choice was some green, glow-in-the-dark ectoplasm stuff.”

      They talked drinks for a few minutes, and then music. He realized they had very similar tastes. She was a great conversationalist, but he would never remember half of what she said. He just lost himself staring at her and listening to that sexy, throaty voice—which occasionally tipped up into a more normal tone, one that seemed familiar to him somehow. He was about to ask if she had a cold, or if she’d been around a smoker, but she asked him something first.

      “So, Chaz, why were you overseas?” she asked, taking over the conversation. That was a good thing, since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to think of anything except how much he was dying to taste that vulnerable spot on the hollow of her throat.

      Besides, it was better than Nice weather we’re