Garret nudges my back. “Kate, introduce yourself,” he says out of the side of his mouth.

I smooth my hair back around my ear and balance my hand in the tantalizing air between us. “I’m Kate.” When his skin touches mine, a surge of electricity circuits up my arm, across my chest, and dips down below my waist.

“I’m Drew.” He lifts my hand to his lips. His breath excites my skin just before he kisses it. And it’s not one of those polite English gentleman kisses. It’s sensual. Erotic. His mouth parts slightly, leaving behind an invisible mark.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say. “And sorry again for the spill.”

Drew grins. “The pleasure’s all mine. And don’t worry about getting me all wet. Maybe one day I can return the favor.”

Garret slaps a hand over his mouth, choking back his martini. A little liquor dribbles down his chin. I almost forgot he’s still here.

“This is my friend, Garret,” I say.

Drew nods. “Pleasure.”

“Hi.” Garret flutters his fingers in a wave, then grabs onto my arm. “Kate, can I speak with you for a moment?”

I keep up a polite smile. “What is it, Garret?”

“It’ll just take a sec!” My friend shows off his freshly whitened teeth. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

“Sure.”

Garret tugs me along with him, and I trot close behind in my stilettos. When we’re out of Drew’s earshot, he turns to me with a wide-eyed glare. “Look, I know you’re not looking for afun distraction, but there’s no way that guy wants to wear your lingerie. If anything, he wants to rip it off of you.”

“You think so?” I ask. Of all the beautiful people in the room, why me?

“Yes! He is bad boy gorgeous, and if you don’t take him home, I’m going to try.” He holds my hand in his, pleading with me.

“I’m not taking himhomewith me,” I say in a hushed tone, even though my body wants him in my bed. I have a rule about one-night stands. I don’t do them. They’re tacky, not sexy. Besides, how good can sex be with someone you don’t know?

“Kate, honey, I love that you’re such a good girl, but since you came back to work, you’ve been stiffer than the hard-on you just gave him. You havegotto loosen up. Look,” Garret nods toward Drew. “He’s still staring at you.”

I glance over my shoulder. Drew patiently waits exactly where I left him. At least five glossy cover models hover nearby, but Drew stares at me like I’m the sexiest woman in the room. Like I’m the only woman in the room. And I like it. “He is gorgeous,” I say, giving in a little.

“Exactly. Go over there, graze your little Katies on his arm, and if he asks to take you for a ride, at least consider it. Guys with his vibe don’t come around that often. You don’t want to live with regrets,” he says.

I shoot him a caustic look. “I’m starting to regret this conversation.”

Garret chuckles. “No, you’re not. Now get your sexy little tush over there so we have something to gush about later.”

I barely shrug one shoulder “Fine.” Garret gives me a light swat on my booty, sending me back over to Drew.

The truth is I want to do exactly what Garret’s suggesting, but not because I need to loosen up. Because being close to Drew makes me feel like I’m already lying naked in the sheets, everyinch of me wants every inch of him. It’s an urge I haven’t felt in ages. My body’s never reacted to a stranger like this before. It’s like not knowing how thirsty you are until someone offers you a drink.

I’ve been a beast in business, but I’ve never been bold in the bedroom. Maybe it’s his musky cologne or his five o’clock shadow, but something about Drew makes me want to toss the rulebook over Tower Bridge.

I smile, batting my eyelashes as I approach him, and try to appear worthy of his attention. “Sorry about that.”

Drew holds a steady gaze and says nothing. But his eyes say everything. It’s a language I desperately want to know. Another waiter passes by, this time noticing me. I swap out my now-empty martini for a sparkling champagne glass and suck down a long sip. If I’m going to even remotely consider what Garret suggested, I’ll need some liquid courage.

“Thirsty?” Drew asks.

“Yeah,” I say, catching my breath. “I didn’t realize how parched I was until I saw you—I mean saw this . . . glass of champagne.” I hold up the flute, pretending to be mesmerized by the bubbles floating near the surface when I really want to face-palm myself for that stupid slip-up.

He lets out a small laugh and takes a drink, keeping those mysterious eyes intently fixed on me—like he can see right through me. Like he’s undressing me in his mind, in every way a person can be stripped. A shiver runs up my spine.

“You from the States then?” Drew asks in a low tone.