Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

was, but any company started the beginnings of a panic attack and a crowd like this was devastating to her. It was humiliating to be a grown woman, successful at business, but be unable to control herself the way even a young child could.
    "Why do you always make a try, Russ, when you know I'm going to say no to you?"
    she asked, holding her ground for pride's sake.
    His grin widened, became devilish. "Two reasons, Hannah, my little temptress. First, I might get lucky and you'll change your mind. And second, I love that trapped look you get on your face right before you decide to let me down gently." He reached around her, caging her body, as he picked up her glass and handed it to her. Raising his own, he winked. "To another rejection."
    Hannah watched him take a drink, a small frown pulling at her mouth. "Don't be silly.
    You ask me out when you have a woman on your arm. You've never been serious."
    "Of course I'm serious. Any man would be serious over a chance at you, Hannah.
    Who is your mystery man and why doesn't he ever come with you?"
    Hannah touched the glass to her lips, but didn't actually drink, a trick many of the models used when attending major events. "This isn't his thing."
    "You mean guarding you from other men isn't worth his time? Because if you belonged to me, I'd be right at your side, making sure men like me didn't come near you." He took another drink, tilting his head to study her face. "Maybe he doesn't deserve you."
    Hannah shrugged and this time she did take another swallow. It burned all the way down, but she needed a little false confidence with this strange and unexpected conversation. Jonas would probably laugh if he knew she thought of him as hers.
    Worse, he'd be angry with her and accuse her of using him to keep other men at arm's length—and maybe she did. There had never been room for any other man. Jonas had occupied all of her thoughts from the moment she'd met him—and she feared it would always be that way—even long after he married someone else and settled down to have a family of his own. They'd had mind-blowing sex and he was going to marry someone else and she was going to end up an old strange lady with cats all around her.
    It made her want to cry. The liquid in her drink began to bubble and she automatically put her hand over the rim of the glass. She had to stay in control and any thoughts of Jonas always stole her control. She could still hear her own soft cries as his tongue made a leisurely foray over every square inch of her body. She took another swallow and let the fire settle in her stomach.
    "See, there you go." Russ brushed his fingers across her face as if wiping away her expression. "You look so sad. I don't like you looking sad, Hannah. Give me a shot. I wouldn't put that look on your face."
    She forced a quick smile. "Russ, you're a flirt and a bit of a hound dog. I've never seen you with the same woman twice. I would last one night and you'd be on to the next one."

    "Maybe I just need a good woman to straighten me out."
    "You're fine the way you are, Russ. When you find the right woman, you'll want to settle down." She glanced at her watch, anxious that the growing fear in her was from the knowledge that the boost her sisters had given her to stave off the panic attacks was wearing off. They'd been too long out of the country and her anxiety level was rising faster than normal, her lungs fighting for air when she should have felt so much better outside away from the crowd.
    To stay calm, she took another cautious sip of the champagne. She didn't touch alcohol very often, and the drink hit her already churning stomach hard. Heat and then cold swept through her. She was suddenly nauseated. Her heart reacted, racing as she turned away from Russ, handing him the glass as she did so.
    Russ set the glasses on the rail and took her arm. "You look like you're dizzy. Are you okay? I can drive you to your hotel."
    Hannah remained silent, assessing her body. She was a Drake and Drakes had special gifts. Her body violently objected to the drink all of a sudden. How strange. She pressed her hand against her mouth and tried to step back away from him. Russ tightened his hold as she swayed.
    "Hannah? Are you ill?"
    "Miss Drake. Lovely to see you again."
    Hannah stiffened when she heard the distinctive Russian accent. She turned slowly to find Sergei Nikitin, the Russian mobster, smiling at her with shiny white teeth. He enjoyed the good things in life; his Italian