The setting suited her.
Of course, she looked just as good in the gym wearing skimpy, yet breathable cotton. Or on the beach in a tiny bikini. On the slopes wearing layers, behind her laptop while she interviewed relationship experts for her latest column or on a date with the latest in her string of male conquests.
Simply put, she was a woman used to being admired.
So used to it that she barely noticed. Instead, she admired the huge manor. Lit up like a beacon, the chandeliers glinted as music played softly in the background. The ballroom was so filled with people that Tessa welcomed the cool March night air wafting through the open doors. She could see the torch-lit paths leading from the gardens to the beach beyond, but didn’t think anyone had ventured out yet.
It was a lovely party that suited Olivia Kane perfectly. And Tessa wanted her best friend to be safe and happy. But Livi was making a huge mistake. Tessa knew it; she was terrified of it. Yet she couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Not without putting her friend’s happiness—and more important, her health—at risk.
So Tessa did something so unusual, so out of character, that she had to focus on it with all her being. She ignored her instincts, put aside her personal prejudices and, God forbid it became a habit, for the first time in her life she tried faking it.
With her brightest smile plastered on her face, she pretended she was perfectly thrilled as she made her way to her dearest, oldest friend’s side to celebrate what could be a huge, painful mistake.
Marriage.
Tessa shuddered.
She had to say something. At least get Livi to consider what she was jumping into. Not just marriage. But marriage to a military man. A SEAL.
Her mind simply boggled.
“Livi...” Her voice trailed off as the rest of the words disappeared somewhere in her throat before they reached her tongue.
“Yes?”
Her blond hair twisted into a cascading crown of curls down the shoulder of her lipstick-red dress and her huge brown eyes dancing with happiness, Livi looked better than Tessa had ever seen her. Tucking her arm into Tessa’s, Livi offered a bright smile, hers as genuine as the sweetness shining from her face.
How the two of them were such good friends was baffling, since the only thing sweet about Tessa was her taste in desserts.
“About all of this,” Tessa said, waving her hand to indicate the party. But once more her words trailed off as she looked into Livi’s face.
She glowed, as if she were lit from within with happiness. Joy shone in Livi’s eyes, pleasure curved her lips and her entire being simply radiated delight.
Crap. Tessa sighed. She couldn’t do it.
“Can I get you more cider?” she offered instead, gesturing to Livi’s almost empty glass with her own champagne flute.
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Isn’t it lovely here?” Practically bouncing in her Louboutin shoes, Livi gazed around the beachside manor. “I’d so love to have the wedding here, but there aren’t spots available until November.”
Before Tessa could suggest she hold out, since November was only eight months away—didn’t it take years to plan these sorts of things anyway?—Livi continued.
“But obviously we can’t wait that long,” she said with a soft laugh. Rubbing her hand over her silk-covered, flat belly, she added, “Mitch’s mother would really like it better if we were married before the baby arrives.”
And that settled it.
Tessa offered a passing waiter a smile big enough to make him trip in his rush to bring her another glass of champagne. As soon as she’d exchanged flutes, she knocked back half of the bubbly to hide her grimace.
“Now, that’s a sight made to make women swoon,” Livi murmured with an appreciative sigh. “You know, we work with good-looking, incredibly built men all the time, but these guys give new meaning to the word fit.”
Ready to be distracted, Tessa put her worries aside. Because if there were one thing she made a point of appreciating on a regular basis, it was men. So much so that she’d managed to turn her enjoyment of the male species into a career writing about the games between the sexes.
Sometimes when she was alone late at night she wondered how long she could finesse her talent for flirting into a viable profession. When the clock ran out on that option, what would she do? Emulate her mother, who’d flirted her way through six—and counting—marriages so far?
Tessa shuddered at the thought.
More than ready to be distracted and play, Tessa followed her friend’s gaze in search of a worthy opponent.
And damn near spun on her five-inch Giuseppe Zanotti heels and ran the other way.
Her heart skipped, bouncing in her chest a few times before plunging into her stomach. It had plenty of company there, as it tangled up with a wild jangle of anticipation, nerves and lust. She tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. Her tongue, usually quite nimble, was glued to the roof of her mouth.
She shifted her gaze to the gardens beyond the French doors, pretending she found the sight peaceful. Fingers clenching and unclenching around the stem of her glass, she took a couple of deep breaths and focused on pulling the soothing air down to her belly until she found some semblance of calm.
Then she looked back at the group of men who’d just walked into the mansion.
Her heart raced again. Emotions spun through her, too fast to identify. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care what they were. Only that they spun right back out.
“Why is he...they here?” she asked, hoping Livi hadn’t caught her slip of the tongue.
“The team? You don’t think Mitch would celebrate our engagement without his SEALs, do you?” Livi asked with a laugh. Then, before Tessa realized what her friend was going to do so she could have grabbed her arm to stop her, Livi gave a big ol’ exuberant wave.
As one, the men looked their way.
But Tessa only saw one man.
Taller than the rest, his shoulders broad and tempting beneath a lightweight sport coat the same vivid black as his eyes, he wore a simple dress shirt under his jacket, yet managed to look perfectly elegant.
His gaze locked on her, sending a zing of desire through her body with the same intensity as it had the first time he’d looked her way six months before.
Tessa Monroe, the woman who’d flicked off movie stars, who’d written articles calling out misogynists and who always—always—came out on top when it came to any encounter with the opposite sex, wanted to duck behind her friend and hide.
“That’s so sweet of his friends to come all this way to celebrate your engagement to Mitch,” she said hopefully, watching Livi’s fiancé stride through the crowd to greet the group with back slaps and what looked to be laughing taunts. “Isn’t most of Mitch’s team stationed across the country?”
“They didn’t have to come far. They’re all based in Coronado now. Didn’t I tell you?” Livi asked, her eyes locked on Mitch as if she could eat him up with her gaze alone. “Romeo’s the best man.”
Romeo.
Tessa’s smile dropped away as dread and something else curled low in her belly.
Her gaze cut across the room, honing in on the man she’d secretly dubbed her personal kryptonite after just one meeting. And had judiciously avoided ever since.
Gabriel Thorne. Aka Romeo.
His eyes were still locked on her.
At least a hundred feet separated them, but Tessa could see the heat in that midnight gaze.
It