Fool, he lashed himself. He wasn't doing this out of pity, obligation, or honor, as Denise might believe. No, he'd just recommitted to helping her for the staggeringly witless reason of not wanting to let her go yet.

Fool, he lashed himself. He wasn't doing this out of pity, obligation, or honor, as Denise might believe. No, he'd just recommitted to helpi...

I just love your girlfriend's purse," Denise said with the proper amount of feminine gushing. "Is it Versace? Versace's my favorite. Oh, well, maybe Gucci, too, but they haven't had anything really good come out lately, you know? And oh, you have to tell me where she got her shoes from. Mine are Escada, but you know, I really think I should have gotten Stuart Weitzman instead. They're a much better bargain considering what these cost..." A glazed look descended over Web's half-covered face as Denise went on about the inadequacies of different designers, ticking off her list of bests and worsts for purses, shoes, and dresses. By the time the music ended and Spade walked up, Web almost shoved her back into his arms. "A pleasure," he managed before stalking away. Spade whirled Denise around so that his back was to Web, a devilish smile curling his mouth as he led her deeper amid the other dancers. "That was brilliant," he whispered, so close to her ear any observer would think he was just nuzzling her. She smiled, pleased at the compliment. "I didn't even get a chance to talk about my most and least favorite jewelers," she teased, her voice also just a whisper. Spade laughed, brushing his mouth across her neck. "Tell me. I promise to be fascinated.

I just love your girlfriend's purse," Denise said with the proper amount of feminine gushing. "Is it Versace? Versace's my favorite. Oh, wel...

I love you," Denise choked, smiling when he kissed her with a passion and hunger that bent her spine back. Three hard, loud bangs, followed by a bellow of "Open this door!" had her jumping in the next second, startled. "What the hell?" Spade muttered, letting her go to fling the door open with a scowl. Ian stood on the other side. "What is wrong with you, banging on like that?" Spade demanded. Ian cast a wicked look at Spade, who wore only his shirt, and then one at Denise as she hastily closed her robe. "Paybacks," Ian said succinctly. Then he walked away, whistling.

I love you," Denise choked, smiling when he kissed her with a passion and hunger that bent her spine back. Three hard, loud bangs, followed ...