Her Book Of Pleasure. Marie Donovan

at the reception. Searching in vain for his discarded briefs, he pulled on a clean pair and threw on his clothes. He took the stairs two at a time to the ballroom and scanned the reception for the petite brunette who had blown his mind. As his eyes were adjusting to the dim light, the happy couple spotted him.

      “So where have you been, buddy? Did you fall asleep in the can?”

      “Marco!” Rey rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s been drinking Cuban rum all night.”

      Rick ran his fingers through his messy hair. “I, um, had a drink with one of your friends.”

      “Really? Which one?”

      “Her Japanese name is Michiko.” He wanted to ask Rey point-blank for Michiko’s full name, but he’d promised not to cheat. He hated cheaters.

      “Michiko?” Rey asked him, a big grin on her face.

      “Your maid of honor with the exotic green eyes?”

      “Ah.” Marco nodded. “Her Japanese friend is named…”

      “Michiko.” Rey elbowed her new husband. “Yes. Michiko left.”

      “Left?” Rick’s euphoric mood plummeted. “Is she staying here at the hotel?”

      Rey raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t tell you?”

      “No.”

      The DJ needed to talk to Rey, so Rick pulled Marco aside. “Michiko and I made a bet that I wouldn’t be able to find her after tonight.” It’d be a piece of cake to find her with the clues she’d given him. Then he’d wine and dine her, do things in the right order. He had a pretty good idea what made her tick in bed, but what they had done together was much more than a wedding quickie.

      “You? The man who tracked down one of the FBI’s most wanted using nothing but his laptop?”

      “That guy shouldn’t have been peddling my client’s new weapons’ technology overseas.” Rick grinned. “And Michiko doesn’t know me that well. Yet.”

      “Yet. Happy hunting, amigo, but be careful. The Spanish verbs for ‘hunting’ and ‘marrying’ sound identical.” Marco gave a big laugh and pointed to his tux. “Case in point.”

      Rey finished her business with the DJ and twirled her new husband onto the dance floor.

      Rick watched them spin away, suddenly discontent to stand on the sidelines and observe other people’s happiness. Well, no more watching and waiting. He’d waited thirty-two years to meet Michiko and he wasn’t going to wait any longer. If he couldn’t find a green-eyed Japanese girl at a university in Chicago, he’d better find a new line of work.