jaw jutted out and her hands were in fists. “I saw them at Jake’s party last night and they were drinking. I should have sent them home then. This sucks, and I’ve totally failed you. I just don’t know how to fix it in—” Anne Marie glanced at her watch “—forty-three minutes.”
Hannah glanced around the tent, searching for any man who could fill out the jeans she’d designed. It had been a risky venture to do male and female lines in her first collection, but it had paid off. Before tonight’s show she had received great buzz in the fashion world from some of the magazine editors who’d toured her collection early. Without the men, the show wouldn’t work. They were her big reveal.
The only men in a sea of six-foot female models were the ones doing hair, and they were all too short, pasty and waif-thin.
Are there any real men left in Manhattan?
She closed her eyes and lifted her head in a silent prayer.
I’m going to walk out the door, and I’m going to find two of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life who will fit perfectly into my show.
Yeah, right.
Opening her eyes again she headed out.
“Where are you going?” Anne Marie cried.
“To find the men of my dreams,” Hannah said determinedly. “Check and make sure the girls have their belts right-side up, and that Clara wears the pink cowboy boots. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Hannah had almost convinced herself she would find the men she needed just outside the tent, or in the crowd waiting to get in. No such luck.
The good news was there was a crowd.
The bad news was that ninety-nine percent of it was women.
Any men she saw were either way too short, or a little thick around the middle. She never cared about anyone’s size, but she needed a perfect fit for the jeans. Worried she might be recognized, Hannah pulled her cowboy hat down low on her eyes, and made her way around the crowd and out onto Columbus.
Shivering against the cold, she pulled her leather jacket tighter, which did nothing for her legs, which were in tights and a miniskirt.
As usual on Friday afternoon, the area was packed with people. There were some teens in baggy jeans and shirts, but they were all either too skinny or too short to fit in the clothes.
She didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario, but she had to.
Please. I haven’t come this far to fail.
Everything she had was tied up in this show. If the editors hadn’t had a sneak peak she could get away with losing the final two, but that was what most of the buzz had been about.
Glancing down at her watch she grimaced. Only thirty-two minutes till go-time. Tears brimmed her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but one errant drop of water slid down her cheek. She shoved it away with the heel of her hand.
This is no time to cave. Get it together.
“Whoever he is, he isn’t worth that tear,” a deep, whiskey-toned voice said from beside her.
Hannah lifted her head and met a pair of the most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Then she stepped back—stunned—to find the perfect male specimen attached to those eyes. His blond hair was cut short, his shoulders broad, and, dressed in his blues, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
She had to remind herself to breathe.
“Hello, Marine.”
“Ma’am.” He tipped his hat.
This couldn’t be happening. She glanced down to his hips and then up to his face. He was absolutely beautiful. But there was also something about him. A presence, something that symbolized a strength that had nothing to do with the uniform he wore.
He smiled, seemingly amused by her appraisal.
“Hmm.” She tapped her finger against her chin and then grinned. “How do you feel about helping a damsel in distress?”
“It’s what I do, ma’am. Did he hurt you? I can’t stand a man beating on a woman. That’s one of the things that sends my temper over the edge, and I have to warn you I do have one.”
Charmed by his slight Southern accent, she’d lost what he was saying. “You have one what?”
“A temper.”
“Oh, no. This isn’t about a man. But I need you like no woman has ever needed you. In fact, my life depends on you coming with me right now. And you would make me the happiest woman in the world if you had a friend who is just as hot as you.”
The marine put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.
Hannah jumped slightly at the piercing volume.
There was a thud of running footsteps, and another man, this one with dark hair and light caramel skin, joined them. He stopped in front of the other marine, his hand flying up to a salute.
“You whistled, Captain, sir.” His voice was clipped, but respectful. Hannah didn’t know her marine ranks very well, but she knew that a captain was up there. She was crazy to ask these men to help her, but she didn’t have much of a choice.
“Lieutenant, seems we have a damsel in distress.”
The marine glanced down at Hannah, his dark eyes checking her face for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
She smiled brightly. “No, but I need your help. Can you gentlemen follow me? I promise, if you give me the next hour of your life, you’ll save mine. And I’ll throw in the best meal you’ve ever had.”
She reached out her hands and wriggled her fingers, begging them to follow.
Both men shrugged.
“Captain, sir, if there’s food involved, I’m in.”
“Then let’s get to it.” The captain took Hannah’s hand. “Fair damsel, lead the way,” he said.
Hannah didn’t have time to question her good fortune, or the fact that the marine warmed her with his touch. She had a show to put on and a career to save. With these two, she had a feeling she was going to kill Lincoln Center in a way that had never been done before.
CAPTAIN WILL HUGHES had done dumb things in his life, especially when it came to women, but this would go to the top of his crazy list. In the past fifteen minutes he’d been asked to strip, put on a pair of great-fitting jeans and a shirt that forced him to keep his arms by his sides, and while one woman messed with the shirt, another held out a pair of cowboy boots for him to slip on.
“His chest is too damn big,” the woman said through the pins in her mouth. “I’ve never seen so many muscles in my life. Hannah, what do you want me to do?”
Hannah stood there appraising him for a few seconds. The desire in her eyes made his crotch uncomfortable. It had been too damn long for him, and she was his idea of
