Date with a Diva. Joanne Rock

It’s a guy thing.” His arm slid away from her only through great willpower. “Automatic reflex.”

      Nodding, she tossed the paper cup and the stick from her ice in a trash can. “It’s okay. But I was thinking maybe we’d better forget today ever happened once we get back to the hotel.”

      “Impossible.”

      “Excuse me?” Her tone assured him she hadn’t been refused many times in her life.

      “I couldn’t forget today if you bribed me with an NHL contract. I’m attracted as hell to you, in case you haven’t guessed already, and a guy just doesn’t go home and forget about that.”

      “Nico, I’m flattered, but let me assure you I’m in no position to act on any kind of attraction right now.” She squeezed her temples with her fingers as if the hangover headache was already setting in. “Not that I’m saying the attraction is two-way or anything.”

      God forbid.

      “What’s wrong with your position?” He enjoyed the view as he watched her strut down the street with her linen skirt still remarkably wrinkle free and her suit jacket folded neatly over her arm. “It looks damn good from where I’m standing.”

      She couldn’t give him the brush-off now. Her siren’s body had been melting in his arms half an hour ago, damn it. He’d been watching her for weeks and he was already halfway to obsessed. One thing was certain, if Lainie didn’t like her current position, he had at least ten others in mind that would definitely please her.

      LAINIE WAS NOT PLEASED.

      Ever since she’d perfected her cool, dismissive look in law school, she’d been able to keep men at arm’s length with no trouble. Men simply didn’t chase her. Even in the case of her husband, she’d been the one to pursue him. Why wasn’t Nico taking the very specific hints?

      “Look, I’m sure you’re used to women falling all over you with your jock appeal and your superstar status and all that.” Could she help it if just a touch of sarcasm crept into her words? “But I’ve got a hotel to run and a bitter divorce still weighing me down like a Mack truck around my neck. I’m just trying to be honest with you about what you can expect from me.”

      “Which I’m rapidly realizing is nothing, according to you.” His voice hummed a bit too close to her ear as they edged past a crowd gathering outside the velvet ropes of a new nightclub Lainie had been meaning to check out.

      A shiver tripped through her at his nearness. She couldn’t deny a little thrill at the way he maneuvered her through the milling people. His protective arm around her now and then might be a tad chauvinistic, but it left her no doubt he’d be quick to make sure nobody messed with her. Her shiver was an unusual sensation for a woman long accustomed to watching out for herself.

      Still, she couldn’t afford to get tied up in knots by a man again. Not now. Maybe not ever. Her divorce from Robert had ripped her raw and then turned her inside out. But since she had no intention of discussing the scarred state of her heart with Nico, she settled for counting down the more obvious, logical reasons that they would be all wrong together.

      “For starters, did I mention how devastating it was to have your sister pull out as executive chef here last month? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled she’s happy, but you have to see how difficult it’s been filling her shoes.” Giselle’s contribution to the resort had been bigger than Lainie realized, and although Nico’s sister maintained ownership of the controlling shares, she left a hell of a void in her place.

      One that the new chef hadn’t come close to filling, but Lainie was crossing her fingers the woman learned quickly.

      When Nico didn’t respond right away, she hurried on. “And did you know we’ve got a film crew coming to town to shoot a movie at Club Paradise?”

      “What movie?”

      “The press release called it a sexy action-adventure drama, if that tells you anything. Didn’t Giselle tell you—Crap.”

      “What?”

      “I forgot to tell Giselle about it. I thought maybe Summer or Brianne would tell her. It was Brianne’s industry contacts that led to the club being used as a filming location. Did you know she used to be a director in New York before she invested in the resort and took over security?” Lainie hoped maybe if she threw out enough smoke-and-mirrors conversation, Nico would forget about her dictate that they go separate ways when they reached the hotel. She was feeling a little less weak-kneed now that she’d had something to eat, but she still had enough bourbon chugging through her system not to trust herself to make rational arguments tonight.

      “Giselle told me. Not about the movie, but about Brianne having worked in film.” He spoke absently, taking out the Hacky Sack that he toyed with like a lucky charm. Tossing the beanbag up in the air as he walked, he caught it three times in quick succession and then jammed it back in his pocket. “Having the movie filmed here—that’s huge. Did you happen to catch the name of it?”

      “It’s called Diva’s Last Dance. You see why I’m up to my eyeballs right now? We’re down a partner and we’ve got to be more impressive than ever. I just think it would be easier if we—”

      “You’re not down a partner.” He gestured to something up the street. “The resort is within view now. You think you’ll be okay the rest of the way?”

      She nodded, no longer tired thanks to his intriguing and potentially worrisome comment. “What do you mean we’re not down a partner? Your sister has practically turned into Ms. Peace Corps now that she’s overseas, and she’s so damn starry-eyed in love I’d be surprised if she ever comes back to the club.” Did he know something she didn’t know?

      They passed a group of drag queens dishing and primping in front of their compacts on the next street corner. The crowd of oversize men dressed in sexy dresses openly ogled Nico with whistles and catcalls. He made them all squeal by blowing them a kiss.

      Lainie nearly commented on his obvious comfort with the locals until she realized he might be pulling his own version of conversational smoke and mirrors.

      Before she could get back on track, he continued. “I’ve read about this movie. It’s a hot psychological drama where the heroine goes undercover to track a killer and ends up confronting the ghosts of her own past. Bram Hawthorne—the guy who’s supposed to be the next Tom Cruise—is in it.”

      “Do I look like I’m lacking a pulse? Of course I know who Bram Hawthorne is. I didn’t recognize the female lead’s name though.”

      “Rosaria Graham. And trust me, guys know who she is.”

      “Oh really?” She didn’t like Rosaria already. Not that she cared who Nico Cesare spent his time drooling over.

      “I’ve read a few things about the movie, I just didn’t know that some of it was being shot in Miami. But I heard the first actress quit because the script called for really graphic love scenes, so they called in Rosaria who has done a couple of mild adult films.” He cleared his throat. “Or so I’ve heard.”

      A vision of Nico watching adult films flashed through her brain, followed quickly by an image of her watching with him. She’d never felt secure enough with any man to investigate the potential sensual possibilities of that kind of erotica, and not in a million years would she have ever gone out on a quest to explore that cinematic genre on her own. But the idea of watching with Nico….

      Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered she had no business thinking about sex with this man. Scavenging up some righteous indignation—a far safer response—she sent him a level look.

      “Are you telling me I’m hosting a porno flick on a four-star property?” Because no matter how much of a sex goddess this Rosaria person might be, Lainie would scream breach of contract so fast it would give those film executives whiplash if they tarnished the upscale image of her resort.

      “Of course not. And