Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes

“Chicken.” CoCo bounced onto the bed with a grin. “Fine. I’m actually thinking of hooking up with Charlie Rogers... He’s pretty cute and he’s a great dancer, which means he knows how to move, if you know what I mean.”

Stella gasped in total shock. “Are you kidding me? I hate to burst your bubble but he’s totally gay. Sorry, babe.”

“Are you sure?” CoCo asked. Stella nodded. “Well, that sucks,” she said, sharply disappointed.

She sighed and flounced back on the bed, her plan totally derailed until Stella said, “Don’t worry, I have someone you might like. Let’s just focus on the party and then we’ll worry about who we’re shagging later. Those things should really happen organically, right?”

“I guess,” CoCo grumbled as she rose on her elbows, frowning. “Wait a minute...you never said who you were targeting.”

Stella grinned with a wink. “I know. It’s a secret. Now, c’mon, let’s get the party going. We have social media to post, a caterer to hire, a mixologist to find and a ton of other details to coordinate in eight short hours.”

CoCo, happy to have something to look forward to, allowed Stella to drag her from the room. And just like that...everything was looking up.

2 (#ulink_50bdb6cf-2800-5c7e-a659-df2adde4ffcb)

AFTER FLASHING HIS CREDENTIALS, Rian drove through the gates of the Malibu mansion and gave his keys to the valet, shaking his head at the opulence of having a valet at a private party, but hey, this was LA and that was the norm. Having grown up dirt poor, sometimes the habits of the insanely wealthy baffled him. It was like landing on an alien planet and finding out all the inhabitants talked out of their butts. Well, that actually happened a lot in Hollywood, he thought with a private chuckle.

Music throbbed with an electric beat that vibrated his bones and he wondered how many complaints CoCo racked up with one of her parties. She was definitely violating the noise ordinance with that crap assaulting his ears. He wound his way through the teeming masses and ignored the drunken solicitations from the myriad of messed-up girls and made his way outside, looking for CoCo. He found her easily, the center of attention, with a group of stylish, nearly naked people dancing to the music from the DJ, who was moving to his own beat as he mixed music. Rian recognized the DJ, Guillermo—otherwise known as The Dealer in certain circles—and wondered how the guy didn’t have a rap sheet a mile long for all the shit he was into. He had a feeling that CoCo wasn’t going to go quietly into his protection and he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself so he decided the best way to handle the situation would be to get her alone.

And there was one way that usually worked.

Rian made his way to CoCo, wearing his confidence like an expensive suit. Women like CoCo responded to that alpha vibe even if they tried to pretend otherwise, at least that’s what experience told him so that’s what he was going with.

Walking straight up to her, ignoring the curious stares and the murmurs, he snagged CoCo’s attention with a mesmerizing look that never failed to catch the ladies. Kane liked to call it Rian’s “C’mere, girl” look and never missed an opportunity to razz him about it, but so far it’d served him well, and who was he to argue with success?

If Rian were a different kind of man and CoCo wasn’t part of the job, he might be all over that sizzling Italian number. She was enough to make a man change his religion but Rian knew that beyond that model face and body was a headache and a half, and he didn’t deal in drama.

CoCo’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed with interest as she boldly appraised his body, the corners of her lush mouth tilting in an intrigued smile as he went straight to her. “Some party,” he said by way of hello.

“And you are?” she asked, lifting one perfectly groomed eyebrow.

He leaned in, catching a whiff of her delicate perfume, and answered, “The man you’re going home with,” and her amused laughter tickled his insides.

“It’s my house, so I’m not going home with anyone,” she said, moving away with a sly grin that bordered on flirtatious, glancing over her shoulder as she added, “But maybe if you’re lucky, you can stay, country boy.”

And then she was gone, melting into the crowd, leaving him and his girl-gettin’ smile behind. Well, hot damn. That hadn’t worked as well as he’d hoped. Time for plan B, though admittedly, plan B...was a lot less fun.

He was also willing to bet CoCo wouldn’t like plan B at all.

* * *

AS FAR AS hosting parties went, CoCo held the distinction for holding the best, and this one was no exception, but for some reason she was bored out of her mind and wished everyone would just go home already. However, that wasn’t likely to happen. It was only midnight and it was just getting rowdier. She surveyed the writhing masses grinding to the beat and she wondered if there was anything left to excite her. Poor rich-girl problems. She wanted to get away from the noise, and considered leaving altogether, but then she didn’t trust all these people in her mother’s home without some sort of supervision and opted instead to retreat to a less crowded area of the house.

As she pushed past the people clogging the entryways, she thought of the stranger who’d managed to gain entrance into the party. It was possible he was a friend of someone she’d invited but his was a face she wouldn’t have forgotten.

It wasn’t often that a guy managed to catch CoCo’s attention like that and it’d taken every ounce of self-control she had not to take the bait. Talk about a killer smile, and those eyes! He was the hottest thing she’d seen in LA thus far and that was saying a lot. CoCo ran in elite circles where handsome and rich were the norm.

But there’d been something rugged about the man, even though he wore a tailored suit and flashed a designer watch. Her father had always told her that you could tell a lot about a man by his watch and his shoes. Considering her father was a world-renowned Italian shoe designer, she took his word to heart. She wound her way past the throng of people, making her way to the kitchen to grab a bottled water and to escape the craziness for just a minute.

“CoCo, baby, there you are, I’ve been looking for that sweet ass of yours all night.”

CoCo turned in time for Drake Pennington to drape himself over her as if she were his own personal coatrack, and she rolled her eyes in irritation at the man’s drunken pawing. Sleep with a man once and he thinks he has the right to a booty call anytime he’s horny. She removed Drake’s arm with a scowl. “Go somewhere and sober up,” she said, trying to extricate herself from his grip as he pulled her to him. “It was a onetime thing and not likely to be offered again,” she told him with distaste.

“Don’t be like that, CoCo,” he chastised her as he tried to nuzzle her neck, abrading her tender skin with his chin stubble. “You and I are like two mirroring souls, destiny and all that. It’s a shame to let all that hot tail go to waste, baby. I got what you need right here.”

“Poetic and total shit. You’re drunk. Let me go,” she said. “Don’t make me toss you out. I’m in no mood for your crap tonight.”

Drake ignored her threat and squeezed her ass, eliciting a squeak of alarm as he pressed her against the stainless-steel refrigerator. “Here’s how I see this going down... You and I are going to go to your room for a little privacy and we’re going to relive some good times. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a nightmare. You’re a selfish lover and you slobber like a dog,” she said coolly, trying to remain calm even though Drake was freaking her out. Maybe she’d underestimated Drake’s feelings for her. Wouldn’t be the first time a man fell in love with her after sex.

She pushed at him but he stuck like glue, the alcohol dulling his good sense. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she said, mildly alarmed that Drake seemed deaf to her blatant answer of hell no. “Drake, stop it.” But he continued to nuzzle her neck and slobber all over her as if she were an ice cream cone, which only brought back the unfortunate memory of sleeping with him. What had she been thinking? If she could go back in time... She shoved at him again, trying to put some space between them. “What are you doing, you idiot! I swear I’ll scream and bring this whole party rushing in if you don’t stop.”

“Now you’re talking. Let’s do it in front of everyone. Kinky!”

Ugh! What a pervert! Was she going to have to scream to get him off her? Why’d she let Stella invite him? CoCo kicked up her struggle but just as she opened her mouth to yell for help, Drake was suddenly ripped away from her and tossed to the floor like a rag doll, and CoCo found herself staring at the hot stranger she’d talked to earlier.

“You really should pick better friends,” he said, picking Drake up from the floor and manhandling him straight to the door before tossing him out. “Let him sleep it off on the front lawn.”

Oh, thank God. That could’ve been embarrassing. CoCo’s relief was short-lived as she realized he’d just vaguely insulted her. “Excuse me?” she bristled. “Do I even know you? How’d you get into my party?”

“You have a funny way of showing gratitude,” he said. “A simple thank-you would be just fine.”

“I don’t recall asking for your help. I can handle Drake on my own. He’s basically harmless.”

“Yeah, it looked like you were doing a bang-up job of handling things. Tell me, at what point were you going to admit that you were in over your head? About the point when he started ripping your clothes off?”

“Don’t be such an alarmist. That wouldn’t have happened. Drake isn’t a rapey kind of guy.”

“Could’ve fooled me. In my world, when a woman says no, it means exactly that. Didn’t seem that your friend was getting the message.”

Her cheeks burned at the mere possibility that Drake might’ve taken things too far. Drake was pretty drunk. He probably wouldn’t even remember getting tossed outside.

“Still choking on that thank-you?”

Smart-ass. “If I had something to be thankful for, I wouldn’t have a problem saying it. But as I said, I had things under control,” she maintained stubbornly, even if there was a niggling doubt that maybe Drake might’ve been a little too jacked up to listen to reason. “However, since you seem stuck on the need to hear it...thanks for handling a mildly embarrassing situation,” she said stiffly. “Now answer my question... Just who are you?”

He sighed as if she’d just responded exactly as expected and found it disappointing, then said, “Glad you asked.” He produced credentials and a business card, which she accepted with open confusion. Elite Protection Services, Rian Dalton. She regarded him with a faint frown as he continued. “Your father has hired me to watch over you for the next couple of days while the FBI figures out who’s been threatening him.”

She returned the card with an irritated exhale. “Chill out on the panic button. Your services aren’t required. I don’t need a babysitter. My father is just being overly protective.”

“Your father started receiving death threats about a week ago. In the interest of your safety, your father has hired me to make sure that no one gets any bright ideas about kidnapping his only heir for ransom.”

“As if that would happen,” CoCo said, bored. “People don’t get kidnapped. That happens on television and in the movies but not in real life.”

“And here I thought you were smarter than that but apparently, you’re pretty comfortable with the blonde stereotype.”

She stared. Okay, that was definitely an insult. What a jerk. When her father had told her about the threats, she’d tried to reassure him that it was nothing but he’d been so freaked out. Now it seemed she should’ve worked harder to talk some sense into him. But first, she needed to send this prick packing. “As I said, your services aren’t required. Thank you for your assistance earlier but I think we’re done here.”