Defying Desire - A.C. Arthur Mills & Boon Kimani

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      He circled around Adam making a beeline for the bar. Unfortunately, Adam had decided to follow him.

      “I wasn’t talking about Camille. But thanks anyway.”

      Trent shook his head. He was not about to get into this with Adam. He knew exactly where his brother’s joking tone was leading. “The boutique’s going to be a big hit,” Trent said when they’d made it to the bar and he’d given his glass to the bartender with a nod for a refill.

      “Yeah,” Adam agreed.

      “Is that all you’re going to say tonight?” Trent asked with agitation.

      Adam simply chuckled. “She’s doing one amazing number on you.”

      “What? Who?” Even to Trent’s own ears the feigned innocence was unbelievable.

      “You know who. Why don’t you just go and talk to her?”

      Trent shook his head. “No. The last thing I want for Camille tonight is a shouting match between me and her top model.”

      “Then don’t shout at her.”

      “Me?” he asked touching a hand to his chest as if offended. “She’s the one that called, cursing me out.”

      “You were being pushy and presumptuous with her. You should probably apologize.”

      “‘Pushy and presumptuous’? If that doesn’t sound like some female crap. You’ve been talking to Camille way too much.”

      “Nah,” Adam said taking a glass of champagne from the tray one of the hostesses was carrying around. “I just see what she was saying. You come on to women really strong, Trent. And Tia strikes me as being different from the females you usually try to push up on.”

      “How? She’s attractive and available just like the others,” Trent quipped.

      Adam chuckled. “For one, she’s not falling all over you. I know you, you’re used to women dying to meet the great Trent Donovan.”

      “Man, you know I don’t even fall for that act. It’s not me they’re trying to meet, more like my wallet they’re trying to get hold of.”

      “But you still like the attention. And she’s the first woman to put you in your place right off the bat. She’s got guts and intelligence. Not normally two traits you look for in a woman.”

      Trent thought about rebutting that statement but could only ask, “Whose side are you on? I mean, I know you’re in love and about to get married and all that, but you were once where I am. When you saw something you wanted, you just went after it. We’re Donovans, that’s what we do.”

      “Until the right woman comes along and makes you rethink what we do,” Adam said simply, his gaze crossing the room to where Camille stood.

      Trent took a quick gulp of the drink the bartender had just given him. “See, I’m not even looking for that commitment you and Linc seem so happy to jump into these days. I was just trying for a good time with Tia. But if Miss Supermodel isn’t interested then so be it.”

      Adam shook his head and began to walk away. Then he stopped and turned back to Trent. “I’ll bet you five dollars you can’t stay away from her all night.”

      “I don’t gamble,” Trent said seriously.

      “No. You don’t give up.” With that said Adam went to stand by Camille, kissing her on her cheek as he glanced back across the room issuing a silent challenge to Trent.

      She’d seen him and her stomach had done an immediate somersault. Yet Tia had refused to cower. His eyes were on her, hot and persistent, searing into every exposed inch of her skin. But she held her smile in place, moving and talking with people as if he weren’t even in the room.

      Which proved to be totally unsuccessful.

      Even now Camille was saying something, the ever handsome and charming Adam right by her side, and Tia had no idea what she was talking about. Her back was to Trent but he was still watching her. She could feel it in every pore of her body.

      “That choker is exquisite with the dress, Tia. Now, since this is just the preamble to the big launch party I’ve only invited a few top reporters. There’s maybe one or two photographers moving about. So if you could make the rounds I’m sure they’ll see you.”

      Tia’s hand shook as she reached for a glass of champagne. She prayed nobody saw it; however, the hostess, who was about two inches shorter than her, smiled knowingly. Suddenly very thirsty, Tia lifted the glass to her lips and emptied the contents, the champagne leaving a tingling trail of chilliness down her throat.

      “Hey? You okay?” Camille asked touching a hand to her wrist as she brought the empty glass away from her lips.

      “I’m fine,” Tia said trying to clear her head. If she thought of tonight as work she could probably make it through. If she didn’t let herself remember that in just a couple of hours the anniversary date and time of the worst moment of her life would be upon her, she would be all right.

      But then she heard his voice.

      “She certainly is fine.”

      Oh God. Who am I fooling? I’m not going to make it. Trent Donovan was not going to let her get through this night unscathed. She could hear it in his voice even before she turned to look at him.

      “Trent, I’m sure you remember my top model, Tia St. Claire,” Camille said in a tight voice that dared Trent to misbehave.

      That left Tia to wonder if she had recently been the topic of conversation in the Donovan household.

      “How could I ever forget her?” He reached for her then, surprising her when he only took the empty glass out of her hand.

      To her dismay, another hostess miraculously appeared and he disposed of the glass. Turning back to her, Trent took her hand in his. It was a move that looked practiced and smooth as hell all at the same time. Damn, she hated this man.

      “How have you been, Tia?”

      Okay, first he needed to stop touching her. Even the gentle feel of her hand in his and the thumb he caressed over her long, tapering fingers, was too much for her already quivering insides to take.

      “I’ve been just fine. And you?” Her voice was steady even if the rest of her wasn’t. And she didn’t yank her hand out of his no matter how much she wanted to.

      As Camille had said, reporters and photographers were here. She couldn’t make a scene. The way Trent was looking at her said he’d figured that out before approaching her.

      “I’ve been better.”

      I’ll just bet you have. “That’s nice. Now if you will all excuse me, I think I’ll make my rounds now.”

      “That’s a good idea,” Camille chimed in. “Isn’t it, Adam?”

      Adam cleared his throat after Camille elbowed him in the ribs. “Ah, yeah. Good idea. How about I escort you out onto the terrace? I think Nigella from the Chronicle is out there soaking up the breeze.”

      Tia gladly accepted Adam’s invitation but didn’t miss the heated glare that passed between the two brothers as she did so. Refusing to even look back at Trent she made a hasty, but classy, retreat.

      “Whatever you’re thinking I want you to get it out of your mind right this minute,” Camille said to Trent when they were alone.

      “Why does everybody insist on treating me like I’m the bad guy?”

      “Um, because you’re military trained to take no prisoners.”

      Trent had to smile at that one. “She’s a grown woman, Camille. You don’t have to protect her. Especially not from me.”

      “I especially need to protect her from

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