Shameless by Ann Major

jeopardize Phillip’s good opinion of her. Not yet. Their relationship was too new and fragile and precious.
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    â€œDo you want to dance?” Phillip whispered in Celeste’s ear.
    â€œOh, yes!” She set her purse on the table. Anything to escape the escalating tension at their table. Her own nerves had started skittering at her first sight of the four-story clubhouse and its rolling lawns.
    â€œExcuse us, gentlemen,” Phillip said as he helped Celeste out of her chair.
    She smiled at his friends brightly, maybe too brightly—her star-wattage smile. When every man in the room turned to admire her, Phillip swore under his breath.
    â€œDo you have to be so damned sexy?”
    She threw her head back and laughed.
    â€œMinx,” he said in an awed whisper.
    She’d dressed up in a slinky red dress that hugged every curve. She’d put on lots of makeup and fixed her hair because she was so afraid of all the beautiful women Phillip had dated at the club.
    She gripped his arm as he led her across the elegant room to the dance floor.
    â€œRelax. You’re the most beautiful woman here and the only one for me.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally, damn it.”
    â€œIs my dress too loud?”
    â€œYou look sensational.”
    She hated being so insecure. She wanted and needed him to say things like that over and over.
    Lavish bouquets of long-stemmed roses of all colors decorated the tables of the Lone Star Country Club dining room. Celeste and Phillip had a candlelit table in a corner with Phillip’s handsome friends from the 14th unit—Flynt Carson, the local millionaire rancher, Spence Harrison, the former D.A., Tyler Murdoch, a bomb expert, and Luke Callaghan, Ricky’s brother-in-law.
    Luke was wearing dark glasses because he’d been blinded by scrap metal in a mission and was only just now recovering his vision. Like Phillip, Luke trusted Ricky completely, despite the rest of the gang’s doubts.
    Unlike her, Phillip seemed so relaxed and at ease in his country club with his successful friends. Celeste knew he wasn’t an extremely wealthy man, but he had his Marine retirement and he’d inherited. Compared to her, he was very comfortable financially.
    Some of the guys were married and settled now, but this weekend their wives were away in San Antonio shopping. Ricky Mercado, the black sheep of the bunch because his family had Mafia connections, had come in late and was now slouching at the far end of the table. He’d had too many beers and his attitude was that of a sulky jungle cat. Phillip believed Ricky had gone straight, but Mercado was ready to pounce at any remark or glance the other guys made that he didn’t like. Not that his attitude slowed his former guys down much.
    Even though Phillip and Celeste were sitting between Mercado and the rest of the men, thereby bodily separating them, and Luke, Ricky’s brother-in-law, had been hard at work to defuse the situation, the other guys knew what to say and do to irritate Mercado. Thus, Ricky’s mood had worsened with each beer.
    Not that Phillip seemed upset by Mercado’s glowering face. Celeste, however, had wanted everybody to be happy. She’d begun feeling nervous when Mercado had started telling a story about Phillip putting his life in danger by charging three snipers. She hadn’t wanted to hear about Phillip’s near-death experiences so she was glad Phillip had put his hand on her waist, glad he’d led her to the dance floor.
    â€œQuit twisting that ring ‘round and round’ your finger. Didn’t I tell you, you’re stunning?” Phillip whispered when they reached the dance floor. “Didn’t all the guys say you were beautiful? Too damn many times? Even Mercado?”
    â€œIt was the only nice thing he’s said. But why would you take on three snipers?”
    â€œMercado was exaggerating. Hey, you look good in red. You look