Dangerous Flirt by Avery Flynn

tightened Beth's voice as she gripped the phone receiver.
    “Where are you? What's happened?” Claire hollered over the sound of beeping and revving motors.
    “I'm still in Vegas.” Beth couldn't think of how to break the news to her best friend. Where should she start?
    “What's wrong? Did you gamble away your hotel money? Doyou need bail? What is it?”
    “Oh shit, Claire,” she mumbled.
    The blaring horn of a truck sounded over the line. “What? I can't hear you, Beth. Speak up!”
    “I can't talk louder. He's in the bathroom. I had to wait for the shower to come on before I could call you.” She tried to rein in the nervousness playing havoc on her mind.
    “Who's in the shower? Who's he?”
    Taking a deep breath, she steeledherself. The best solution was to put it all out there. “Claire, I think I married your brother.”
    “What?”
    Beth yanked the receiver away from her ear, ringing from the hollered question. The sound of running water stopped. She gulped and twisted the phone cord in her hand. “Oh God, the shower just turned off. What am I going to do?” Apprehension vibrated through her tense body.
    “Beth, whichbrother?” Claire screamed into the phone.
    Hunching over the phone, she whispered, “Hank. I think I married Hank.”
    The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam.
    “Who you talking to?” Hank strolled out, a towel slung around his hips.
    Flashing him a tight smile, she dropped the phone receiver onto the cradle. “Uh, no one. Room service, but I changed my mind.”
    “Uh-huh.” Hank wanderedback into the bathroom.
    Flopping back onto the bed, she tried to figure out how she'd get herself out of this mess.

    As much fun as it was to see Beth squirming, Hank had to tell her they weren't married. It wasn't going to be pretty. Not that pretty was a word she inspired right now. He wasn't sure if the green-around-the-gills look wasfrom the idea of having him as a husband or the after-effects of her night out on the town. Either way, she looked like hell, with her hair shooting out in all directions and some black goop dotting the underside of her eyes.
    So why did he still feel like tumbling her over and burying his face in that rat's nest on top of her head?
    Giving in to the inevitable, Hank grabbed her dress from whereit had fallen behind the chaise lounge and tossed it to her. “We're not married.”
    Hope lit her eyes. “We're not?” Beth jumped up from the bed and wiggled her lace-clad ass in celebration.
    Damn, what was he, some kind of an ogre?
    Annoyed with her obvious relief, Hank grumbled to himself. “Women.”
    “Okay, so if we're not married, did I just dream about a really short Elvis?” The smooth materialof her dress muffled her words as she pulled it over her head.
    Hank's spidey sense pulsated. Something was going on beyond the few verbal threats she’d told him about the other day. The truth of it crawled up his spine, sending off sparks of suspicion. “You sure you only had one drink last night?”
    “You know what happened to my parents with the drunk driver. My limit has always been one.” Shesecured the leather belt around her waist, pulling the material tightly closed. Her fingers stilled and she looked up, fear darkening her eyes. “Do you think someone slipped something into my drink?”
    The idea made sense. It explained why Beth had been so out of it. But it didn't account for the two guys who’d followed them into the chapel. The more he thought about it, the more certain he wasshe’d been targeted last night.
    He sat down beside her on the bed. “Any idea why someone would have slipped you something and then followed you?”
    Her face blanched. Her gaze fell to her lap, where her hands twisted the silk of her dress into a knot of worry.
    “What aren't you telling me, Beth?”
    She turned her dark-brown eyes toward him. Flecks of gold in her irises shimmered with unshed tears.“It's probably nothing, but you know someone is buying up