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No Time like Mardi Gras
Kimberly Lang


A scandalous night – and no one will ever know! Mardi Gras might be the best party in the world, but Jamie Vincent is spending it third-wheeling with her new flatmate.So when gorgeous stranger Colin Raine offers to show her around how can she say no? Soon Jamie’s seduced by the hedonistic carnival – and by her delicious tour guide! Technically she’s sworn off men, but for one night only they can go crazy and no one will ever know… Until everyone in New Orleans finds out! Now Jamie’s secret is out, it looks as if what happened at Mardi Gras might not stay at Mardi Gras after all…









Colin rolled slightly toward her. “So what do you want to do now?”


A dozen images jumped immediately to mind, and she gritted her teeth to keep from describing them in detail. “I guess we could go back to the Quarter? After all you’ve said about it I’m kinda curious to see the insanity for myself.”

He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

No, but you’re not giving me any better options. “Isn’t it part of the full Mardi Gras experience?”

“Oh, honey, it’s an experience all its own.” He leaned all the way back, stacking his hands behind his head. Turning his head toward her, he arched an eyebrow. “You think you can handle it?”

“I don’t think I’m that shockable.”

That earned her a smile. “Then let’s do it.”

He rolled to his feet and brushed the grass off before extending a hand to help her up. The crowds weren’t quite as thick here, so Colin didn’t take her hand—sadly—but he did put his hand on the small of her back to guide her. She was so primed even that simple touch was downright torture.


Dear Reader

Just one more book set in New Orleans and then I’ll stop. Or maybe I won’t. It’s a tough call, since I love New Orleans and it seems to be the perfect setting for a romance. New Orleans is exciting and vibrant and sexy, not afraid to break rules, push boundaries, or do its own thing its own way. It’s hard to resist and too much is never enough.

Kinda like a Modern Tempted


, you know… ~grin~

After years of insisting that he’s totally the inspiration for the heroes in my books, this time my Darling Geek will actually be telling the truth. In many ways Colin is based on my Geek, and at least one of the conversations between Colin and Jamie happened in real life—all I had to do was transcribe it. I’m not a Girl Geek—I don’t know a sonic screwdriver from a warp drive—but I am a geek girl. I go geeky for geeks. They rock my world.

And if indulging my love for New Orleans and geeks in this book wasn’t enough to make me smile, I also got to work with the fabulous Aimee Carson again on this duet. Aimee’s great; everyone should brainstorm with her. I loved having Aimee’s heroine, Callie, guest star in this book, and I know you’re going to love getting to know her better in her story.

There’s so much I love about this book—I just hope you’ll love Colin and Jamie’s story as well.

As always, I hope you’ll find me on Facebook, Twitter or my website (www.BooksByKimberly.com) and stay in touch! I’d love to hear from you.

Love

Kimberly


No Time Like

Mardi Gras

Kimberly Lang






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily-ever-after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

This and other books by Kimberly Lang are available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk


To Finlay, you gorgeous, clever boy. I know you’re going to grow up to be even more awesome than you are now. (And remember your auntie knows a thing or two about awesome men, so you can trust me on that!)


Contents

Prologue (#udcba659c-79a8-58da-8d7d-3d4c4e573350)

Chapter One (#u3c50c58d-42b8-55bc-bd9d-ae39ee7035de)

Chapter Two (#ucf230e2a-6515-5f56-9ac9-29a022bbfae5)

Chapter Three (#u14d9d7cf-4266-54fa-a929-921b9f23b181)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


PROLOGUE

From The Ex Factor:



Dear Exes,

My ex and I were together for three years and knew each other socially before that. Unfortunately, while our relationship is over, I still see him all the time. We have the same friends, go to the same places...it’s really awkward. We don’t hate each other, but we don’t want to be together anymore. How should I handle this?



Callie:



It takes time and a bit of tact. You don’t want to alienate your friends or make them feel as though they have to choose one of you and exclude the other. Change what habits and haunts you can—find a new coffee shop, a new bar to hang out in—so that the old places don’t remind you or others of your former couple status. Your friends will take their cues from you, so the more over him you are and the more comfortable you are in his presence, the easier it will become for everyone. You might even want to do things in smaller groups—minus your ex, of course—until the breakup isn’t so fresh. Eventually those friend-only feelings will return.



Ex-Man:



Move. As far away as you possibly can. I cannot recommend this strongly enough. You can always make new friends.




ONE

Sometimes being a nice guy sucked.

But a friend didn’t turn down a friend in need, even when that need was for a relief bartender on Fat Tuesday in the French Quarter.

Seemed he’d only thought his bartending days were over. And he’d forgotten how much he hated bartending.

Colin Raine made another cash drop just as Teddy came downstairs from his apartment above the Lucky Gator, looking somewhat better rested and fresh from the shower. Owning a bar in the French Quarter had been Teddy’s dream, but the frenetic, nearly twenty-four-seven nature of the business during Mardi Gras would test even the most pleasant of dreams come true. The guy hadn’t had more than a couple of hours’ sleep in a row all weekend.

“All good?” Teddy asked.

“All good.” Colin usually avoided the Quarter on Fat Tuesday—at least since bartending had quit being his main source of income—far preferring to watch the parades over near his own place off Lee Circle or hang with friends. At least it was still early, only just past noon, and while the revelers were thick in the streets, he had time to escape before the crowds really got crazy. “You owe me, though. Some drunk frat rat puked in the men’s.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “Already?”

First-time visitors to the Quarter on Fat Tuesday always faced a bit of a shock at the all-out, truly bacchanalian atmosphere. Half the people on the streets were still drunk from the night before, and the rest were rushing to catch up. Depending on perspective, it was either the biggest and best street party in the world or an absolute nightmare.

The Lucky Gator occupied a great piece of real estate, just a block in from Canal on Chartres, and the place was hopping simply from the traffic of folks heading into or out of the Quarter itself or trickling in from the parade route on Canal. A local cover band played with enthusiasm—if not extreme skill—on the Gator’s small stage, calling folks in off the streets to continue the party indoors. Every table was occupied and folks stood in the doorways. They weren’t packed yet, but they would be—the crowds were already starting to pick up. Teddy was making a mint, which tended to dull the irritation of those who were letting the bons temps rouler a little too much.

He helped Teddy restock and bring out new kegs, dumped his share of the morning’s tips into the beleaguered waitresses’ tip jar, and took out the trash, where he was waylaid by the stupidity of two women who’d thought flashing for beads at street level was a good idea. It took him ten minutes to get them out of the groping maw of an overly appreciative crowd that looked as if it could easily turn aggressive and on their way with their friends.

With that, though, his good deeds for the day were officially done. He was getting the hell out of here. He had time for a shower and a nap before deciding if he’d head to a party or just stay home and work.

He went to tell Teddy that exact thing, only to find him staring oddly at something near the stage. Colin followed Teddy’s line of sight and nodded. “She’s been there for a couple of hours now.”

“She doesn’t look happy about it.”

The she in question was a pretty brunette, maybe in her mid-twenties, scrolling idly through her phone. While the other woman at the table, a blonde, was turned around, straddling her chair, practically dancing in her seat and catcalling the band, the brunette looked, for lack of a better word, bored. She had a couple of strands of beads around her neck and a beer he’d pulled over an hour ago sitting untouched on the table in front of her. It was a stark contrast to the scene surrounding her. She put her phone back in her pocket and seemed to sigh as she turned to watch the street.

Teddy shook his head. “A reluctant groupie.”

Colin realized Teddy was right. The blonde was obviously there for someone in the band and the brunette was the fifth wheel regretting accompanying her now. It was a shame, really, practically a crime, not to be having fun in New Orleans on Mardi Gras—especially since she’d obviously come for the celebrations, not to listen to some just-shy-of-crappy band. “How long is their set?”

Teddy sighed. “They’re booked for two.”

He nearly choked. “Really? They’re not that good.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. But every decent band in the parish was booked.”

Two hours into the first of two three-hour sets. The poor girl had a long day ahead of her if the blonde truly was there as the band’s groupie.

And her phone’s battery was bound to go dead eventually.

“You should go talk to her.”

Sleep deprivation was definitely doing damage to Teddy’s brain. “What?”

“I feel bad for her. Plus, she’s kinda bad for business, sitting there like that all miserable. People can see her from the street and they’ll think twice about coming in here.” Teddy grinned. “Consider it a favor.”

“I’m barely done with the last favor and you’re asking for another?”

Teddy grinned. “If I recall correctly, your exact words were, ‘I’ll owe you for life.’”

Damn it. Five years ago, the money Teddy had invested had been the final and crucial piece launching No Quarter and Rainstorm Games into the big leagues. He and Eric had pulled together every last cent they’d had—forgoing all but the most basic of human survival requirements—and had come up short. Teddy hadn’t had the money to spare at the time, but he’d given it anyway, pulling the cash out of his own business savings to support theirs.

Colin had meant the sentiment at the time, but he’d never thought he’d regret it. And it wasn’t as if Teddy regretted the money; the return on that investment had allowed him to open the Lucky Gator three years earlier than anyone expected. “Seriously, now, how long do you think you can keep playing that card?”

“The rest of your life, my friend. The rest of your life.” Slapping Colin’s shoulder, Teddy went behind the bar. “What? You got big plans or something?”

“Maybe,” he hedged.

“Plans other than locking yourself in your office and working?” Teddy grinned, knowing he’d gotten it right. As if Teddy had room to talk. He, Eric, Colin...they were all practically workaholics. Growing up just shy of poor and building your business from scratch often did that to people.

“Come on,” Teddy coaxed. “There’s a damsel in distress over there, Lancelot, so go save her. You know you want to.”

Actually, he didn’t. He’d done nothing but put out fires all day, and he was done with the whole thing. But...she did look miserable. “Fine. But we’re going to have a discussion about hyperbole and the shelf life of favors owed after this.”

Colin grabbed a bottle of water and went over. “Something wrong with your beer?” He practically had to shout over the music, but she did hear him.

The brunette looked up, startled at the interruption. Her eyes were a deep, deep green, and tiny freckles dotted her cheekbones. Strands of dark hair had escaped her braid to coil around her temples from the humidity. Close up, she was an all-American, fresh-faced, girl-next-door beauty. “Excuse me?”

“Your beer. You’re not drinking it. Something wrong with it?”

Her eyebrows pulled together briefly in confusion, then she seemed to notice the Lucky Gator logo on his T-shirt, and she smiled as she shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Just a little early in the day for me to be drinking.”

“That sentiment rather puts you in the minority today.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Indeed. But I’ve got all day, so I need to pace myself.”

He held up his water bottle. “Right there with you. Do you mind if I take this chair?”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead. We’re not using it.”

At her look of surprise when he sat down, Colin realized she’d thought he meant to take the chair away, not join her. He bit back a smile and stuck his hand out. “Colin.”

She shook it. “Jamie.” There was something careful about the way she said it, and her posture changed to be more guarded.

He pointed toward the bar. “That’s Teddy. He owns the Lucky Gator.”

Jamie followed his finger, and Teddy waved at her. With a small, slightly confused smile, she waved back.

“Teddy is concerned that you’re not having a very good time in his establishment.”

An eyebrow went up. “So you’ve been sent over here to find out why?”

She was honest, it seemed. No false assertions or denials. “Something like that. He seems to think I might be able to entertain you a little, since the music isn’t doing it.” He leaned forward. “Not that I blame you for having better taste than that.”

“That’s very kind of you and Teddy both, but I’m sure you’re very busy today and have better things to do than entertain me.”

“Teddy is busy. I’m done, thank God.”

Jamie’s head cocked sideways, causing the end of her braid to fall over her shoulder and into the cleavage that peeked through the colorful beads. “Your shift is over already? I’d think the big money would be made later today.”

It took him a second to catch up. Jamie assumed he was Teddy’s employee, which, considering the circumstances, wasn’t a bad guess. But he didn’t feel the need to correct her, either. The truth would require explanations and this really wasn’t the time for that. “This place will be a zoo in a few more hours. And once the parades are over, it will be a complete madhouse. There’s not enough money on the planet to get me to work that shift.” And Teddy knows not to even try to call in that as a favor.

“It gets that crazy, huh?”

He laughed. “This must be your first Mardi Gras.”

Jamie’s nose crinkled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty much. The big giveaway is that you’re sitting here not having a good time when no matter what your definition of a good time is, it can be found right beyond those doors.”

She sighed wistfully. “Yeah, this was not what I expected to do today, but I came with Kelsey and she wants to listen to David play.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, but she’s hopeful about it. And since I don’t know my way around or anything, I’m stuck here with her.”

“What did you want to do today?” There was literally something for everyone, but since she’d already ruled out drinking, she obviously had something else in mind.

She smiled and it lit up her face. “I wanted to see the parades, of course. We caught a little bit of Zulu on the way in, but we were carrying the band’s stuff and couldn’t hang out to really watch.”

He looked at the clock over the bar. “Rex should be getting to Canal shortly. The truck parades follow it. There’s still plenty of parade goodness available, if that’s what you want.”

He could tell she wanted to, but that she was tamping down the desire. “Yeah, but I don’t think Kelsey’s really interested.”

“Go without her.”

She wrinkled her nose. It was kind of adorable. She was kind of adorable. “It wouldn’t be much fun to go alone.”

“It couldn’t be less fun than you’re having now.”

“True.” She fiddled with the beads around her neck, seemingly torn. “But would it be safe to go by myself? This may be my first Mardi Gras, but I have heard stories and I’m not stupid.”

That did show good sense. “Well, you’re sober, so that increases your safety exponentially right there. And you’d only need to go about two or three blocks on well-populated streets in the middle of the day, so I think you’d be all right. There’s a lot of people, but there’s also a lot of police around. If it was dark and you were planning on wandering the Quarter alone, I’d say differently.”

“I don’t know.” He could hear the indecision in her voice, the desire to go somewhere else battling with the common sense not to wander about alone in a strange city. “When I was a teenager, my mother used to tell me that it wasn’t me she didn’t trust, it was the situation.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “And if there was ever an untrustworthy situation, this would probably be it.”

“Want me to go with you?” It wasn’t until Jamie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline in shock that he realized what he’d said. The offer had just come out of nowhere, without forethought, and he was almost as shocked as Jamie that he’d even made it. But he couldn’t just let her sit here when it was such an easy thing to fix.

Jamie was quick to recover, though. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure you have other plans today.”

He realized that was almost as suave of an invitation as she could get from any number of random dudes on the street. She’d just said she wasn’t stupid, and her refusal—as polite as it was—showed it.

But he was oddly disappointed. He’d known her for all of five minutes—and without Teddy’s intervention he wouldn’t have known her at all—but being shot down like that still stung, no matter how much sense it made. And it wasn’t as if it would help to mention that she’d be perfectly safe with him; he was pretty sure most serial killers professed what nice guys they were, too.

“I have no other plans,” that much was almost true “and I’d be happy to go with you for a while and walk you back here when you’ve seen enough.”

He could tell Jamie was really tempted. She was clearly bored out of her mind here and desperate to do something else, but he understood her hesitation at wandering off with a guy she’d just met. He’d kill his sister if she ever did exactly what he was suggesting to Jamie. At the same time, he was growing more and more interested in her and actually wanted her to accept his offer.

Then the band hit a particularly discordant note, and Jamie winced. That seemed to shake her out of her indecision. She tapped her friend on the shoulder. “Kelsey, give me your phone.”

The blonde turned around for the first time. “What? Why?” she asked as she handed it over.

Jamie held it up in his direction. “Smile.”

Caught off guard, he did, and Jamie took his picture.

“Kelsey, this is Colin. He’s a bartender here.” Jamie was typing into the phone as she spoke, but Kelsey sized him up and smiled at him appreciatively. Then Jamie looked at him again. “Last name?”

This didn’t make a lot of sense, but he answered anyway. “Raine.”

“R-A-I-N?”

“E,” he added automatically.

“Thanks.” She handed the phone back to her friend. “Colin and I are going up to Canal to watch the parade.”

Kelsey gave Jamie a look and a smirk. “Really, now? How interesting.” The innuendo in her voice all but had them doing it in an alley fifteen minutes from now.

Jamie frowned back at her. “I’ll meet you back here later. I’ve got my phone with me, so send me a text if you go somewhere else.”

Kelsey gave Jamie a big smile and then winked at him suggestively. He wasn’t unaccustomed to having women flirt with him, but that wink bordered on tawdry and made him feel a little dirty. “Y’all have fun.”

Jamie stood. Until now, he’d only seen her from the waist up, but that white T-shirt tucked into a pair of cutoffs exposing tanned legs and firm thighs. She wasn’t tall, maybe only chin height on him, but everything was perfectly proportioned.

So far he had no real reason to regret his impromptu and unexpected invitation.

Then Jamie grinned at him, her excitement clearly evident and surprisingly contagious to someone who should have been long immune to the parades. “Let’s go.”

Chartres Street wasn’t completely packed, but it was busy, requiring Jamie to stay close as he helped guide her through the throng. “What was that about?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, mild confusion wrinkling her forehead. “What was what about?”

“The phone. The photo.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Just in case I go missing, Kelsey has your photo and name to give to the police,” she answered matter-of-factly. “This may not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t have to be completely stupid about it either.”

Bold but cautious. Funny and smart. He put a hand on her back as he shouldered through a group gathered under a balcony begging beads from the people above.

Nope, no regrets at all.

* * *

I, Jamie Vincent, am a complete idiot. Her biography, if it were ever written, would carry the title But It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.

She was alone, in a still-strange city, during one of the biggest street parties in the world, with a man she’d met ten minutes ago as her only guide.

But Colin didn’t seem creepy or shady—he hadn’t triggered any of her internal alarms—and it was broad daylight. She was sober, he was sober and there were, quite literally, thousands of people and police around. Surely it was safe enough to just watch a parade. Hell, Kelsey was so infatuated with David, she wasn’t exactly holding up her end of the buddy system anyway.

She couldn’t even get angry about it, either. Kelsey was just someone who’d agreed to rent her a room when she answered Kelsey’s ad. They weren’t exactly besties or anything. Kelsey didn’t owe her a good time, because Jamie was technically infringing on her Mardi Gras celebration to start with.

If I end up dead in a Dumpster, I’ll have only myself to blame.

She had a basic map of New Orleans in her head, but she’d only been here two whole days—and she’d spent most of that just trying to get settled in—so it was patchy at best. Chartres would cross Canal and become Camp, and Camp would get her home. That much she knew. As long as she stayed on the main streets, she shouldn’t get too lost or turned around.

The crowds got thicker as they approached Canal, and she found herself pressed closer to Colin. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing, she admitted to herself. Amid the general smell of stale beer and teeming masses of people, Colin smelled nice—like clean laundry. Plus, Colin had a rather nice body to be pressed against—athletic, but not muscle-bound. A girl could do much worse.

“Here, hold my hand.”

The instruction startled her, and she looked up at him. Colin grinned as he held out his hand. He had a great smile that caused little crinkles at the corners of bright blue eyes. A shock of dark hair—just long enough to curl around his ears, as if he was a few weeks late for a haircut—was held back from his face by the sunglasses perched on his head.

Goodness, he was just damn pretty.

But that didn’t mean she was going to hold hands.

The sentiment must have showed on her face, because Colin laughed as he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not trying to get fresh. I just don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

It was a fair enough statement, but before she could reply, he flashed her another lady-killer grin. “Either that, or you could just stick your hands in my back pockets.”

Without thinking, her eyes flicked down to the pockets in question, and damn, did he have to have a cute butt, too? That was tempting. Way too tempting.

For safety’s sake, his first idea was probably the best one.

Jamie put her hand in his and Colin’s fingers threaded through hers, bringing them palm to palm. His hands were warm, the grip firm but not painful, and there was one brief ridiculous moment where she was sure her skin tingled like the heroine’s in some romance novel.

She almost wished he would get fresh.

No!

But he’s so cute.

Down, girl. Have we learned nothing?

She had. And the lesson had been painful enough to ensure she wouldn’t forget it.

She continued to tell herself that as she was hauled up against Colin’s side, their clasped hands pressed against his chest as he maneuvered through the crowd. Jamie just did her best to keep up.

Colin finally stopped near a streetlamp. “This should be good. Rex will come this way, but the trucks turn the other way up Canal, so to see them, you’ll have to go up a few blocks.”

Although crowds lined the barriers on both sides of the street, there was no sign of a parade. “So where is it?”

“Ah, timing can be a tricky thing. You never really know how long it will take for the parade to get to a specific spot. There are delays, the floats break down, you name it. But this—” he gestured to the crowd around them “—is part of the experience, too.”

“So we wait?”

“We wait. Do you want a drink or anything?” When she shook her head, Colin sat and leaned back against the lamppost.

Although there was no telling how nasty the sidewalk might be, Jamie sat as well. She felt a little awkward now, this good idea faltering a bit as she tried to decide how to make small talk with a stranger—regardless of how pretty he might be. One thing she’d never been very good at was cocktail party chitchat.

Thankfully, though, Colin didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Is this your first time in New Orleans?”

“No.” She’d been down here a few years ago with Joey for a game before he’d moved up to the majors. Before everything had gotten crazy and gone to hell. But there was no way she was going to mention that. “It was a very short trip, though, on business with my boyfriend, so I didn’t have much time to explore.”

That eyebrow went up again. “Boyfriend?”

“Ex,” she clarified.

Colin winked at her. “That’s good to know.”

Was that flirting or just charm? It was so hard to tell. She’d been out of the game for so long she didn’t remember how to play. And she certainly didn’t know how to respond. Joey had been the jealous type—possessive, actually, she amended with hindsight—so her flirting skills were rusty from disuse. Maybe she should delay even easing back into this.

Colin stretched long, tanned legs out and got comfortable. “So, where’s home?”

Oh, it was going to be tough, though.

“South Carolina,” she answered automatically, dragging her attention from those nice calf muscles. As he nodded, she realized that she’d just led Colin to believe that she was only in New Orleans for a short visit. Still, the statement wasn’t entirely false. South Carolina was home, even if she didn’t live there anymore and hadn’t for a while. She’d followed Joey to five different cities and they’d never felt like home, and while she was here now, New Orleans didn’t feel like home yet, either. So it wasn’t entirely a false statement, and considering the circumstances, it probably wasn’t a bad thing to let Colin keep that misunderstanding for now. She didn’t trust herself not to flirt herself right into trouble accidentally. And since he could be an ax murderer for all she really knew, some vagueness about her living situation was probably wise. “And you?”

“Born and raised right here in New Orleans.”

“A real ragin’ Cajun, huh?”

His mouth twisted as if something was funny. “Something like that.”

Oh, she just needed to slap a warning label right across his forehead. A good-looking, charming, self-professed ragin’ Cajun bartender who just happened to have no plans on Fat Tuesday other than to escort a woman around... Oh, the dangers were piling up, and Jamie knew she should just cut and run. But, oh... She could feel her libido crank its engine. Talk about her own personal Kryptonite. It was what had attracted her to Joey in the first place—a slightly rough-around-the-edges underdog with a big dream and charm to spare.

Really? This is how you’re going to start out?

It had been her downfall before; it would be stupid to repeat the experience.

But maybe just for today?

How much trouble could she get into, really? It wouldn’t be anything serious, just one day to enjoy herself before the new life kicked in. It made sense—Mardi Gras was supposed to be the big decadent party before the austerity of Lent. One last day before life got real again. Hell, she couldn’t even assume he’d stick around longer than this parade anyway. They were talking about an hour or so, max. What harm could really come of it?

It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, she had a cute, seemingly nice enough guy to talk to, and she was in the middle of a crowd that just wanted to have a good time. She felt free, powerful, in charge of her own life again.

She really couldn’t ask for more, could she?

She deserved a break. After everything she’d dealt with—the pain, the shame, the complete destruction of her life—she’d earned this Fat Tuesday and all the decadent fun it could bring her.

She could have today, by God.

The noise level had been increasing steadily, and now music floated over the top of the roar. It kept her from having to respond.

Colin pushed to his feet. “Here it comes.” He extended a hand to help her up. She was still justifying everything to herself as Colin hauled her up and stationed himself behind her as the crowd pushed forward toward the street and the barricades.

His chest was broad and hard against her back, and one hand came to rest easily and naturally on her hip as he leaned forward to tell her something. He was wearing shorts, like she was, and she could feel the hair on his legs tickling her calves and thighs. She totally missed whatever it was he was trying to say.

“What?”

“Don’t reach down if anything hits the ground. You’ll get your hands stomped.”

What the hell were they throwing off these floats? Diamonds? She twisted around to look at him. “Over cheap plastic beads?”

“Yep.”

“Seriously?”

Colin laughed, patting her hip as he did. It left a nice residual tingle. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Look, there’s Rex.”

Jamie strained up on tiptoe, craning her neck to see. Wow. She’d heard these parades were amazing, and she’d expected something really cool, but this.... A massive gilded throne, ornate costumes with feathers and men on horseback in matching courtier outfits with satin pantaloons...just wow.

She jumped up and down to get a better view, accidentally bumping against Colin’s chin in the process.

“Can you not see?” he asked. She shook her head and tried to use his shoulder as a boost when she jumped this time. A second later, she felt hands on her legs and the whisper of hair against her thighs. She jumped for real this time.

Colin was crouched behind her. “Come on. Climb up.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, and she felt the broad base of his shoulders pressing against the backs of her thighs as Colin’s head dipped between her knees. Then she was up over the crowd—with an amazing view of the parade—with Colin holding her as though she weighed nothing at all. He shrugged to get her settled, and she quickly wrapped her legs behind his back to anchor herself.

“Better?” he shouted up.

She was still reeling from the fact his head was now between her thighs and a rather personal bit of her anatomy was now pressed against the nape of his neck. Funny how she’d never noticed the inappropriateness of this position until just now. “Yeah,” she answered, but it sounded a little weak even to her own ears. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?”

“Oh, please. I can barely tell you’re up there.”

“Now what do I do?”

Colin tilted his head way back, nearly sending her toppling over before she corrected by leaning forward, and grinned at her again. “Catch whatever comes your way. And no matter what you’ve seen on TV, don’t flash the riders for beads,” he cautioned. “You’ll get us both arrested.”

“Flash them—?” she began, but she was cut off when something hit her right in the face.

She caught it reflexively and a strand of green-and-gold beads dangled from her fingers.

“Good job,” Colin said, patting her knee. “Now put them on.” She looped them over her head as a shower of beads began to rain down from the floats.

Colin caught a few, but for the most part, he kept his arms locked around her legs to keep her stable as she quickly got the hang of it. Occasionally, she’d loop a set over his head until he began to look a bit like a cheap Technicolor Mr. T.

There were marching bands, more elaborate costumes, ornate floats—just an ongoing stream of tacky, over-the-top opulence. And Jamie loved every minute of it. She’d had no idea she was such a sucker for a parade, and the crowd’s enthusiasm was contagious. This was so much better than sitting at the Lucky Gator listening to a crappy band play, and she finally understood the allure of the street party.

This was simply freakin’ awesome.

Colin kept pointing out details and providing backstory, acting as her own private Mardi Gras guide and tutor. When a float broke down, bringing the parade to a halt, Colin got her a beer from a street vendor and then danced with her to a high school marching band’s rendition of “Louie, Louie” before putting her back on his shoulders for the last few floats. She was sad to see the final one go by.

As the crowd began to pull back a little, Colin set her on her feet for the last time.

Rising up onto her tiptoes again, she kissed his cheek, surprising them both. “That was so much fun. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Want me to walk you back to the bar?”

Jamie fished her phone out of her pocket. No message from Kelsey, so she was probably still there listening to David’s band mangle another classic, and she didn’t really want to go back now, anyway.

Colin must have picked up on her mood. “Or we could head a couple of blocks up the street and watch the next one?”

A happy glow settled in her stomach. “I think I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

To her surprise, he seemed genuinely pleased with her answer. He held out his hand. “Then let’s go.”

This time, she didn’t think twice about taking it.

Let the good times roll.


TWO

They ate muffulettas bought from a food cart near Woldenberg Park as the sun went down. Jamie didn’t really care for the olives, but she wasn’t complaining. About anything.

Today hadn’t been what she’d expected—who could have expected this?—and if anyone had tried to tell her she’d have one of the best days of her life at a street party with a guy she barely knew, she’d have laughed in their face.

Colin wadded up the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it into an already overflowing garbage can. New Orleans was a beautiful place, but it was definitely worse for wear today, with garbage littering the streets and a pervasive odor of stale beer, sweat and something else she didn’t even want to try to identify. She could relate, though. Like the city, she wasn’t exactly fresh as a daisy now either, but she was still thrumming with energy and excitement and the desire for a good time.

She might just come to love New Orleans.

That might not be a good thing.

“Your nose is turning pink,” Colin said.

Jamie wrinkled it experimentally and felt the tightness. “Great. I’m going to have a clown nose.”

“Cutest clown ever.” He reached out a finger and touched it gently, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Does it hurt?”

The proximity, the gentle touch, the concern in his voice...Jamie’s throat felt tight and that tingly anticipation slid up through her stomach again. “No. Not yet,” she managed to get out.

He nodded and traced a finger along her cheekbone. “You’re a little pink here, too.”

Colin was killing her. There’d been flirting all day, the friendly, teasing kind that danced along the line but never went over it, leaving her wondering if it was just his personality or genuinely directed at her. She’d scraped the rust off her own flirting skills and given it her best, but the results were unsatisfying—in multiple ways. She had no idea if she was having any effect on him at all, and if not, was it from lack of interest on his part or lack of skill on hers?

She’d been touching him for hours—even once wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing against his back as they went through a particularly dense crowd—but she wanted to really touch him. She’d found herself staring at his lips, her mouth gone dry and her stomach fluttering, but Colin never made the move. Even when he touched her—a hand on her back to guide her, holding her hand in the crowd, even once wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close and protectively when a couple of drunk guys got a little too rowdy—it hadn’t been more than what she’d expect from any male friend. It bordered on brotherly, for God’s sake.

And it was completely, absolutely killing her.

Surely Colin wouldn’t spend this much time with a woman he didn’t feel some attraction to? This might have started out as a step above a pity date, but he could have gone his own way at any time. The fact that he hadn’t gave her hope.

If this was some kind of game, he was playing her like a pro, but it didn’t feel like a game, and that both pleased and concerned her. Because if she was being played, she was falling for it, hook, line and sinker, and she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to. And she wasn’t sure she really wanted to anyway.

But if Colin didn’t make a move on her soon, she was going to launch herself at him like a penis-seeking missile, probably humiliating them both at the same time.

She drained the last of her beer, wishing she had a few more in her system—just enough to cause her to lose the inhibition that kept her from acting on the ideas running wild and free through her mind.

But no, she’d just had to be somewhat responsible today.

Just enjoy this for what it is. Don’t ruin it by making a complete fool of yourself.

She was probably misreading the situation anyway. Maybe this was just some New Orleans tradition she was unaware of—a local interpretation of Southern hospitality: find a bored tourist and show her a good time.

And hadn’t she proven—conclusively—that she was really bad at reading people, unable to even pick up on the glaringly obvious, much less the subtle? She wouldn’t even be here if she had the ability to judge people correctly. At the same time, she was still glad she was.

So this was a nightmare—an oddly pleasant and exciting nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.

Colin’s finger moved away. “Yep, definitely a few new freckles, too.”

Sweet mercy. She was in such a mind-versus-libido turmoil time was practically standing still while it was grinding away. Not that those frozen moments in time were necessarily a bad thing...

She took a deep breath, but Colin’s phone rang before she could say anything. He took it out, glanced at the screen and sent the call to voice mail, but not before she had the chance to see the smiling face of a very attractive woman on the screen. “Feel free to answer that,” she said as casually as possible.

He shook his head. “It’s just Elise. One of our friends is having a party today, and she probably just wants to know where I am.”

“Oh.” She forced herself to smile instead of asking who Elise was.

As if he could read her mind, Colin offered, “Elise is my baby sister, by the way.”

She had to fight not to show relief in that news. “Well, if you need to go, then don’t let me keep you.” She tried to sound casual about it. “You’ve been great to show me around, and it’s been really fun.” She fished her own phone out and checked Kelsey’s last message. “Kelsey and David are barhopping, and I can go catch up with them.”

Colin lifted an eyebrow at her. “I’ll take you back to your friends now, if that’s what you want.”

“God, no.” Jamie stopped and cleared her throat. She toyed with her watch, trying to look nonchalant. “I mean, I’m having a good time with you, but I really do understand if you want to...”

He leaned back on his elbows in the grass and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Do I look like someone who’s in a hurry to go somewhere else?”

She felt herself smile and just hoped it wasn’t too goofy-looking. “I guess not.”

Colin rolled slightly toward her. “So what do you want to do now?”

A dozen images jumped immediately to mind, and she gritted her teeth to keep from describing them in detail. “I guess we could go back to the Quarter? After all you’ve said about it, I’m kinda curious to see the insanity for myself.”

He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

No, but you’re not giving me better options. “Isn’t it part of the full Mardi Gras experience?”

“Oh, honey, it’s an experience all its own.” He leaned all the way back, stacking his hands behind his head. Turning his head toward her, he arched an eyebrow. “You think you can handle it?”

That was a tad insulting. “Of course I can handle it. Why would you think I couldn’t?”

“It’s way outside your comfort zone.”

“You know nothing about my comfort zone,” she protested.

“You blushed when that drunk guy propositioned you, and he wasn’t even that graphic about it.”

That was true, but the blush hadn’t come from the guy’s proposition. She’d been hoping Colin would make her that offer, and that was what had made her blush. “It simply caught me off guard.” She tried to add an airy wave, but accidentally caught one of the many, many beads around her neck in the clasp of her watch instead, and had to take a moment to untangle herself.

“There will be nudity, adult situations, suggestive language...”

“So it’s an X-rated event,” she interrupted. “I’m a grown woman and this is the internet age, you know. I don’t think I’m that shockable.”

That earned her a smile. “Then let’s do it.” He rolled to his feet and brushed the grass off before extending a hand to help her up. The crowds weren’t quite as thick here, so Colin didn’t take her hand—sadly—but he did put his hand on the small of her back again to guide her. She was so primed, even that simple touch was downright torture.

The wind off the river blew the hair that had escaped her braid into her eyes as they walked, but the breeze felt good.

She’d chosen New Orleans as her new hometown almost on a whim. It was far enough away to be a fresh start, but it also seemed like the kind of vibrant, exciting place where a person could truly reinvent herself. And after a few Midwest winters, the climate seemed ideal.

She hadn’t had time yet to explore the city, but she was now making a mental list of all the places she wanted to explore sooner rather than later. As they turned toward Jackson Square, all lit up with the cathedral behind it, she began to fall in love. “I can’t wait to see what New Orleans is like when it’s not Mardi Gras.”

“There’s always something going on,” Colin said, “but it’s not always crazy like this. It’s a good bit cleaner, too,” he added, kicking a plastic cup into the gutter with the other trash.

“You really love this city, don’t you?” He’d been a walking, talking guidebook all day, and she belatedly realized that it was genuine love and pride for his hometown causing it—not just the need to inform or impress with his knowledge.

“What’s not to love?” he asked, spreading his arms wide to embrace the city. Directly to his left, a college-age girl was loudly being sick into a garbage can. “Well, except for that,” he corrected and steered her away.

The crowds were getting thicker and Colin reached for her hand as they moved farther into the Quarter. This time, though, he pulled her in front of him, letting his arm cross her chest like a seat belt, pressing her against his chest and tucking a hand into the back waistband of her shorts. “Whatever you do, don’t let go of me. I’ll never find you in this crowd.”

Jamie just wanted to lean against him for awhile—maybe rub a little against that chest—but Colin was pushing her forward into the mass of people on St. Peter’s Street. She didn’t think it would be possible, but the crowd got even denser as they crossed Royal, edging closer to Bourbon Street and the epicenter of all things.

Oh, the internet had not prepared her for this. She’d been expecting costumes, and she wasn’t disappointed. Most of them weren’t as elaborate as those worn in the parades, but some did try with large amounts of feathers and rhinestones. The closer they got to Bourbon, however, the smaller the costumes got—leaving elaborate behind in favor of exposure.

There was a man wearing nothing more than a strategically placed jester’s hat and harlequin face paint walking with a man in a crown and a cape who displayed a very long...um...scepter. A man on stilts wearing lingerie and a feathered mask. And the women—she’d never seen so many breasts before, either exposed as a part of the costume or simply bared in order to be showered with beads. Every body shape and type was on display, and she had to have a bit of respect for the people with enough self-confidence to let it all hang out like that—literally.

Jamie hadn’t led a sheltered life, but she had lived a rather circumspect one. She’d been a good girl from a nice middle-class family; there simply hadn’t been much trouble for her to get in to. She’d flirted with rebellion in college, but then she’d met Joey, who had always worked so hard to keep his public image squeaky clean, to be the kind of player that kids would look up to and their parents would be glad for it. It had been one of the things she’d loved about him—even if she now knew it was all a lie—and she’d been happy to adjust her expectations accordingly. So while Joey had been doing a lot of wild partying—along with other things—behind her back, she’d never been a part of that lifestyle. Now her eyes felt as if they were bugging out of her head.

She heard Colin chuckle in her ear. “I tried to warn you.”

“I’m amazed, but you can hold off on the smelling salts.” She twisted around to look at him. “This is unbelievable, though. Is it legal to get naked like that?”

Colin shrugged. “Public nudity is illegal, but on Bourbon Street—especially this time of year—as long as you’re not causing a ruckus, you’re probably safe from arrest.”

“I guess the police have plenty of bigger fish to fry today.”

“Exactly.”

Their progress through the crowd had been slow but steady, giving Jamie the opportunity to look around and absorb all she could, but then they got caught in a raucous pack parked under a balcony.

She’d seen women flashing their breasts from the balconies above and expected this to be more of the same. But she looked up to see a couple embracing quite passionately for their audience. The man had his hand under the woman’s shirt and her leg was hooked around his waist. When the people below began shouting both encouragement and suggestions, the couple began to incorporate the suggestions into their tableau.

Jamie felt her jaw go slack. While she’d never been much of a voyeur before, it was somehow impossible not to watch. It was simultaneously tawdry and erotic, and in this sexually charged atmosphere, its effect on the crowd was electric.

And Jamie wasn’t immune to the effect. She found herself leaning back into Colin a little too much, craving his smell and his heat. She couldn’t help herself.

Colin wasn’t unaffected by this either, and the fingers that held her waistband seemed to move gently against her back like a caress. Colin’s fingers tightened around hers. She returned the squeeze.

Her knees went a little weak and she sagged against him as he exhaled near her ear, and the warmth of his breath caused gooseflesh to rise on her neck.

The noise and the lights and the crowd surrounding her seemed to disappear as Colin’s thumb traced circles against her palm. Her free hand came to rest on the outside of his thigh, and she felt the muscles under the fabric tighten.

Then the crowd moved, sending the guy in front of her staggering backward to bump into her. Drunk and rowdy, he took it as an introduction and made a descriptive suggestion to her.

Before she could do more than gasp, Colin had released her hand and pushed the guy back with a very succinct suggestion of his own. And while her erstwhile admirer was fueled by testosterone and copious amounts of alcohol, Colin stood a full head taller and several inches wider. The man’s friends wisely pulled him back.

Colin shoved the rest of the way through the crowd and back into the street, where the people were at least moving. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

“Yeah.” Although he’d pulled her back against him, the moment had been ruined, and Jamie felt her cheeks burning. She’d been caught in a slow simmer all afternoon, but the overcharged, overindulged raunchiness around her made that moment under the balcony feel slightly tawdry now. She wanted out of the Quarter and back to the earlier mood. “I think I’ve seen—”

She gasped as a blonde in a very small tank top stumbled over her own feet and the drink in her hand landed all over Jamie. Something slushy and pink covered most of her shoulders and chest, and icy rivulets slid down her cleavage. Against the heat and humidity, the cold and wet drink initially felt refreshing, but Jamie’s eyes watered from the alcohol fumes even as it soaked through her shirt and bra to her skin, replacing that refreshing feeling with clammy stickiness.

The girl mumbled an apology, but she seemed more upset by the loss of her drink than the fact that Jamie was now wearing it. The way the girl was weaving, the loss of alcohol was probably a blessing, although Jamie didn’t doubt she’d get a refill quickly enough.

Colin took a look at her and shook his head. “Have you had enough of the Quarter now?”

Wet, sticky and still reeling from that earlier moment, she gritted out, “Very much so.”

Colin surveyed the damage. “Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

That didn’t seem likely or even possible, and there was something slightly humiliating about the whole thing, but she was now miserable in more ways than she could count, and getting off Bourbon Street seemed like a very good idea regardless. She let Colin lead her through a less crowded back alley she’d never walk into alone, not even for money, and when they emerged on Chartres Street, she realized they were going back to the Lucky Gator.

She’d come full circle.

* * *

He shouldn’t have brought Jamie back into the Quarter—or at the very least, he should have kept her off Bourbon Street. He certainly knew better, even if she didn’t. It was too out of control, with too many people acting like idiots and bordering on dangerous. But there was something about Jamie that made him want to indulge her. She seemed to want to experience everything, give it all at least one try, and she embraced everything with enthusiasm and excitement.

And he had to admit he was rather hoping she’d indulge him back—hopefully with a bit of that enthusiasm, too. It was getting damn near impossible to keep his hands to himself. What had started off as a lark, a little good deed to show her a good time, had turned into something else. Sure, Jamie was gorgeous and he wasn’t immune to that, but there was also something...refreshing about her as well. Something wholesome and sweet that stood out against the decadence of Mardi Gras and made him see the event through new eyes.

But playing tour guide today of all days had brought its own issues. He’d had her pressed against him so many times today, felt the soft skin of her inner thigh against his cheek.... All perfectly innocent and understandable in the situation, but what it was doing to him was far from understandable or innocent.

And while part of him wanted to believe that Jamie would want to cross that line, he wasn’t entirely sure the signals he was seeing weren’t just figments of a hopeful imagination. Hell, he was sorely tempted to press her up against the alley wall and offer to lick every drop of that drink off her skin.

Maybe Fat Tuesday wasn’t the best day to meet someone new. At the same time, the clock was ticking. At best, she might be in town only a day or two longer—he’d have to ask—and the knowledge of a deadline only made the need to touch her more acute.

The hand holding his was sticky, which was one of the main reasons he was taking her back to the Lucky Gator. They slipped in the back door, past a long line of people waiting for the restrooms, and stopped in front of a door marked Private.

“Just stay here for a second.” Jamie looked bedraggled, but she nodded. It took a bit of time to make his way to the bar, where Teddy and his staff were moving at high speed to keep up with the crowd that now spilled out the doors into the street, and even longer to get Teddy’s attention. “I need your office keys.”

Either Teddy trusted him or was simply too busy to care, because he tossed the keys Colin’s way without question or comment.

Jamie was where he left her, doing her best to brush the worst off, and she looked at him questioningly as he unlocked the door. “We can get you a dry shirt from Teddy’s office.” Looking her over, he saw the slush ran down her leg into her shoes. That wasn’t going to be much fun to walk around in. “Not sure there’s much we can do about the shoes, though.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to burn them tomorrow anyway.”

At least this hadn’t dampened her spirit.

The hallway was quieter as the door closed behind him, and he grabbed a couple of clean bar towels off the shelf. After wetting one in the mop sink, he handed both to her as he unlocked the office and led her inside. It was small and untidy, and Jamie looked uncomfortable being in there. “You can get the worst of it off with those, and I’ll see about finding you a shirt.”

“Thanks.” Taking the wet cloth, she wiped it over her arms and hands, then closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure as she wiped her face and the parts of her neck not covered in beads. “Oh, that feels so good.”

He swallowed hard as he watched her. Jesus, he really was on edge, if that simple action was enough to send his blood running south.

Shirt. Find her a clean shirt. He rummaged through the boxes of Lucky Gator T-shirts under Teddy’s desk until he heard her curse quietly. Looking up, he saw her fighting with the huge stack of beads around her neck. “You okay?”

“I suddenly feel like I’m being strangled.”

“Here. Let me help. Lean forward.” She gave him a look, but then did as he said. “All the way.” He slid his hands along the sides of her neck, under the plastic strands and lifted them away from her skin. “Now just drop your head forward...more. That’s it. Now pull back.”

The mass slipped onto his arms and Jamie stood up. “Oh, my God. I feel ten pounds lighter all of a sudden.” She ran her hands over her neck and grinned. “Overaccessorizing is a bad thing.”

He dropped the beads onto the desk and went back to the box of T-shirts. “Let’s get you a dry shirt. You’ll have to wear a gator across your chest.”

“Thanks. This one is beyond help.”

“It’s probably going to be big on you...”

As he turned around, the rest of the sentence died in his throat. Jamie was already matter-of-factly peeling her shirt up, exposing a flat stomach and a bra so barely there that he could see the dark shadows of her nipples through the fabric. As the shirt cleared her head, she noticed him staring. He expected her to cover herself, to turn around, but instead, her movement slowed to a crawl. He looked up, expecting to see shock, or even outrage, but her eyes met his evenly as her shirt hit the ground.

Just like that, the mood shifted, and the air felt close and tense. The noise just beyond the walls faded until Jamie’s shallow breaths and the blood pounding in his ears blotted it out completely.

Unable not to, Colin let his fingers glide gently over the plane of her stomach, tracing the indentation that ran from ribs to navel, enjoying the little gasp and the way the muscles contracted under his touch. Jamie never broke the stare, even as he retraced his path up between her breasts, to the hollow at the base of her throat that fluttered under his fingers.

Jamie swallowed and her breath began to stutter. Her hand reached for the hem of his shirt, fisting in the fabric, pulling him closer to her until he could feel the heat from her skin. There was a moment where she seemed to inhale, her pupils dilating, and then Jamie rose to her tiptoes to press her mouth to his.

The sensation rocketed through him as if he’d been hit by lightning, causing his knees to buckle as he pulled her close and her tongue slid inside his mouth. He grabbed onto the filing cabinet with one hand and slid the other around the firm curve of her butt, steadying them both. Jamie moaned deep in her throat, and the sound nearly sent him over the edge right then.

Jamie’s hands tangled in his hair, holding him when he moved to taste her neck, the skin on her collarbone, the soft spot behind her ear, and her leg rubbed restlessly against his.

He’d just wanted to touch her, nearly convincing himself that would be enough, but now... He wanted to explore her, devour her, lose himself in her.

The bra strap marred the smooth skin of her back, but a quick twist of the clasp allowed him an unimpeded sweep from neck to waist. She dropped her arms, allowing it to fall the rest of the way to the floor, and leaned back against the door, giving him access to small, perfectly formed breasts. Jamie hissed as his thumb brushed over her nipple, and her whole body quivered.

She pushed his shirt up until it caught under his arms, and he let go of her long enough to remove his own beads and pull the shirt the rest of the way off. He tried to capture her lips again, but Jamie’s head dipped to his chest, pressing hot kisses against his skin. He was having trouble breathing and then couldn’t breathe at all when Jamie’s tongue flicked over his nipple. He pressed his palms against the door hard, gritting his teeth as the pleasure seared through him.

Then she was kissing him again, hitching herself up to wrap her legs around his waist, her hips writhing against him. Any hope he had of rational thought or restraint was lost.

A tiny voice in the back of Jamie’s mind was trying to send out a caution signal, but the rest of her was able to ignore it completely. She’d known she’d go right over if Colin so much as touched her, but she hadn’t realized she could spontaneously combust in someone’s arms or that it could feel this incredible when she did. It was better than her imaginings, more than her hopes. Colin was a freakin’ gift from the sex gods, every inch of him designed to tempt and to please, and she didn’t care if it was a good, bad or indifferent choice; she was going to take every bit she could and enjoy it.

Colin coaxed her legs back to the floor, then slid to his knees, hands grasping her hips as his mouth caught her nipple. The lights went dim as he sucked her, and without his support, she’d have collapsed altogether. Hot, wet kisses on the sensitive underside of her breast and across her ribs left her trembling. Then his tongue traced a path to her navel and beyond, inch by torturous inch until he finally reached the snap of her shorts.

He paused, his breath hot against her skin, and she looked down to see him watching her face, as though he was looking for permission to cross this last barrier. At the same time, his fingers were tracing along the hem of her shorts, teasing over her inner thighs, so close but yet so far from where she really needed them.

She reached for the snap and the zip, letting them sag from her hips. Colin surged back to his knees, his hand clasping her neck and pulling her down for a hot, wicked kiss at the same time his hand slid inside her panties.

Breaking the kiss, she gasped for air, holding onto his shoulders to steady herself. Colin’s fingers circled and teased, wringing tiny moans from her. Just as she was about to scream in frustration, his hand twisted and his finger slipped inside her.

This time her knees did give out. Colin caught her in his lap, rolling to his back and then lowering her to the floor, never letting up on the sensations that had the edges of her mind fuzzy. She was panting, writhing, clawing at his back and the floor as he redoubled his efforts until she climaxed hard and fast.

She was vaguely aware of Colin reaching over her head, rummaging through desk drawers while she fumbled with the zipper of his shorts and palmed him. He stilled, his breath hissing out in pleasure, the muscles in his thighs shaking slightly as she worked her hand, trying to give him even half of what he’d given her. With a groan that sounded nearly painful, Colin grabbed her hand, planting a kiss in the palm and placing it on her stomach while he turned his attention back to the desk.

A second later, she heard a mumbled, “Thank God,” and the distinctive sound of a foil packet being ripped open. Suddenly desperate, she shimmied her shorts down over her hips, letting Colin help push them to her ankles as he knelt between her thighs.

Dear God, he was absolutely gorgeous, eyes hooded and burning as he slid a hand from her pelvis to her neck, then met her eyes with a smile that was somewhere between pleased and predatory. It sent shivers of desire slicing though her, and she kissed him almost desperately as he slid slowly inside until their hips finally met. The sensation sent tiny shocks through her system, causing tremors she couldn’t control. Bracing himself on his elbows, Colin held still as he kissed her, keeping the tremors going until Jamie began to buck and arch under him, demanding more. Slow and teasing quickly gave way to hot and frantic, and Jamie lost control, the intensity of it all both scary and exhilarating.

* * *

Jamie’s breathing took almost a worrying amount of time to return to normal, but then, so did his. He’d come with a force that should have blown the top of his head off, so Colin was having a hard time gathering thoughts—any thoughts.

He heard Jamie sigh. He mustered enough strength to turn his head toward her and saw her staring at the ceiling. She sighed again. “Wow. That was...unexpected.” A little smile tugged at her lips and she faced him. “Can I ask how you knew there’d be condoms in the desk?”

According to Teddy, one of the perks of owning a bar in the French Quarter was what happened after closing time. But he didn’t really want to share that information with Jamie. “Um...”

She laughed. “On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know.”

He pushed up onto his elbow. “No, you really don’t.” Quite a bit more of her hair had come loose from her braid, and he toyed with a piece. Jamie leaned up and kissed him, a sweet, basking-in-afterglow kiss that had almost the opposite effect, reawakening his blood just when he thought he was half-dead.

He deepened the kiss even as the phone on Teddy’s desk began to ring. It was annoying, but ignorable, even as the ancient answering machine picked up and the Lucky Gator’s outgoing message played.

Teddy’s voice was also the incoming message. The bar noise in the background was loud as Teddy shouted into the phone. “Dude, I don’t know what you’re doing in there, but I need change. I’m trying to run a business, for God’s sake.”

Jamie collapsed into giggles. “Busted.” With a satisfied groan, she pushed to her elbows and sighed as she reached for her clothes. “Did you say something about a fresh shirt?”

Silently cursing Teddy—but applauding his timing nonetheless—he dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. “Oh, yeah, that’s why I brought you back here. I got a little sidetracked.”

She took the shirt and slid it over her head. “Now we match.”

“Consider it a Mardi Gras costume.”

As he dressed, Jamie stuffed her ruined shirt and bra into the trash can and managed to untangle a few of her beads from the pile on the desk to put back around her neck. Holding the hopelessly tangled mound of remaining beads over the trash, she hesitated. “This seems wrong, somehow. I worked so hard to get them.” With a shrug, she dropped them in.

Dressed now, Jamie tried to push the strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid back from her face. “I don’t even want to know what I look like right now.”

“You look amazing.” Although Jamie rolled her eyes, as far as Colin was concerned, it was true. Her eyes were bright, cheeks pink and glowing, lips slightly swollen from his kisses. It was enough to make him decide to ignore Teddy’s eviction attempt.

But even as he reached for her, Jamie had the door open and reality rushed right in.

“So what are we going to do now?” she asked.

Go back to my place? “Whatever you want.”

“You know, I’m kinda feeling like I should give the French Quarter experience another try.” She seemed to have a fresh burst of confidence—as well as a burst of energy he couldn’t quite claim for himself.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, maybe we should start on Chartres and work our way back up to Bourbon Street.”

It wasn’t quite what he’d hoped to hear, but she wasn’t heading back to her friends just yet and the night was still young.

This time Jamie followed him into the bar, only blushing slightly when Colin tossed the keys back to Teddy and Teddy gave her a knowing wink along with a couple of beers. “Great shirt. It looks much better on you than Colin. Y’all go have fun.”

Jamie looked up at him and smiled. “I intend to.”


THREE

Okay, now she saw the attraction to the celebrations in the French Quarter. Maybe it was afterglow, maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t so uncomfortably conscious of Colin now—although she was still very conscious of him, it was different now and definitely not uncomfortable—but regardless of why, Jamie was truly enjoying herself and exploring that bit of her that was just a little on the wild side. There was an anonymity to being in a crowd of strangers that downright encouraged her to explore it. Anonymity was something she hadn’t had in a long time anyway, and it felt so damn good.

Colin’s mood seemed to have shifted, too. More sure of her now, his charm was on full display, and he’d quit his best behavior, leaving her to discover he had a very wicked—and sometimes dirty—sense of humor. He’d kept it under wraps most of the day, making her question her initial judgment of his bad-boy tendencies, but they were there. Oh, yeah, they were there.

But she’d worry about all of that tomorrow. Tonight, she had a bit of a buzz going, a gorgeous man on her arm and absolutely no reason not to enjoy them both.

The entire Quarter was heaving with people, but she felt a part of the crowd, a part of the experience. She danced to the music that drifted out of the clubs and bars into the street, caught beads tossed from the balconies above, marveled at the costumes on display and in between enjoyed the feel of Colin’s arms around her, the press of his body against hers and the occasional kiss he’d drop on her lips or neck.

It was the best night of her life and she was unwilling to let it end, even as Kelsey texted her repeatedly, wanting to go home now that she’d realized David wasn’t all she’d hoped he’d be. She’d delayed and stalled until Kelsey had gone home without her, and now Jamie felt a bit bad. But Kelsey had ditched her first—figuratively, at least, by fawning over David—so Jamie didn’t feel really bad about it for long.

Colin returned with their drinks and caught her frowning at her phone as she typed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She hit send and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “Kelsey’s going home.” She was pleased to see disappointment flash across Colin’s face. “I told her I’d meet her there later.”

Colin moved closer, a finger hooking in her pocket to tilt her hips toward his. “There’s not a lot of later left of tonight.”

She smiled up at him in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “Then I really need to enjoy what there is of it.” Now would be a good time for you to suggest we go back to your place, get a shower... “What do you suggest—”

The question was interrupted by an earsplitting siren wail. She saw more than heard Colin curse as he grabbed her hand.

“What’s going on?” she shouted, wanting to cover her ears as the siren wailed on and a surge of people pressed toward them.

“It’s midnight. They’re clearing the streets.” Colin pulled her against his chest as he tried to move sideways through the crowd toward the sidewalk. More sirens and honking horns joined the din, and her head began to throb from the noise. Jamie peeked over her shoulder to see a horizontal line of mounted police officers visible above the crowd and the strobe of red-and-blue police lights as they moved down Bourbon Street, instructing people by loudspeaker that Mardi Gras was over and they needed to clear the streets.

She was tripping over her own feet, being jostled from all sides, and only Colin’s grip on her kept her from falling. The noise, the surge of people...it was the first time all evening that she’d felt scared, and she worried what would happen if she did fall. She gripped Colin’s wrist with her free hand and trusted him to get them both through the melee.

At the corner—Jamie wasn’t sure of which street—an influx of people caused a moment of gridlock. A girl bumped into her, and Jamie felt the heat of a lit cigarette against her arm. She jumped, trying to get away from the burn, and opened up a few inches of space between herself and Colin.

Those few inches, though, were all it took, as someone tried to move into the opening between them, forcing them farther apart. Colin’s grip on her wrist tightened as he tried to shove the person out of the way and pull her back to him. Now she was trapped: a surge of cross traffic pulling her one way as Colin was pushed in the other direction, and the idiot who’d started it all was pressing against the arm Colin held, causing pain to shoot up from her elbow to her shoulder as though she was being stretched on the rack.

She could barely see Colin’s head above the crowd. His lips were moving, but the sirens and crowd noise drowned the words out. Her grip on his wrist began to fail and while Colin’s grip tightened more, pressing her watch painfully into her skin, his hand began to slip, too, until the connection was broken.

Jamie had no choice but to go with the flow. Her ears were ringing, her wrist was burning and her shoulder felt loose in the socket. Unable to see over the shoulders of those around her, she followed the crowd blindly, figuring eventually it would have to break. It was a slow-moving crowd, but a very thick one, and with all of her attention required to remain on her feet, she lost track of how long she’d been in the surge. There was a scuffle to her right and she caught an elbow in the head, causing her to see stars, and she began to panic a little.

The panic actually motivated her and she began to elbow her way out of the pack, finally reaching clear air and less congestion. Nothing looked familiar, and the street signs didn’t help much beyond their distinctive style telling her she was still in the French Quarter.

There was no way in hell she was going back the way she came—even assuming it would be a straight shot back to familiar territory. About two blocks to her left, she could see a traffic light and figured that had to be Canal Street, so she headed that way.

Her head hurt, her ears were ringing, her heart was still pounding and her wrist was burning. She looked down to see that her watch was gone, the skin scratched and raw. It must have come off when Colin lost his grip.

Colin. She nearly turned around, but good sense prevailed. The exodus from the Quarter would be nearly impossible for her to fight against, and if the police were clearing the streets, did that mean she could get in trouble by going back in? She really didn’t want to get arrested again.

Automatically, she reached for her phone, only to realize she’d never gotten his number. She hadn’t needed to.

She could go back to the Lucky Gator; surely someone there would know how to get in touch with him...

What am I doing? It was bad enough she’d hooked up with Colin—who, now that she thought about it, she knew absolutely nothing about. She’d been enthralled and under his spell all day, but now that she was out of proximity, good sense came roaring back.




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