them and grabbed her arm. “All right, Hughes! You’ve had your fun.” He gestured at her dress. “But this isn’t you.”
She jerked out of his grasp, braced her hands on the edge of the pool table behind her and hoisted herself up to sit on it. She overshot the table and her dress hiked up, but he wasn’t about to help her. He wasn’t going near her.
With a toss of her head she crossed her shapely legs and the hem of her dress rose halfway up her thighs. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
Her brows drew together and she bit her bottom lip.
Aw, man. Mitch had seen her do that a million times, but tonight it looked so damn sexy. Made him want to take her bottom lip between his teeth.
Her stubborn chin lifted and she folded her arms beneath her breasts. “I have a tattoo.”
A tattoo? That was no surprise. Most guys in the military had something on their arm or—
“Down where no man has ever seen it.”
He swallowed, pImages** flashing through his mind. Would it be on her ass? Or maybe in the front, down low inside her little red panties…
“And I love to slip into a hot bubble bath at night.”
Bubble bath? Hughes? Now he was picturing her wet, glistening skin, rising from a steaming tub. He blinked the image away. That was just what she wanted him to picture. “Next you’ll be telling me you read romance novels and drink White Zin while you’re in there.”
“And what if I do?”
“Aw, come on, Hughes. Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“McCabe, you dog.” Major Sanders, a desk jockey in Civil Air Patrol, came up to them. “What do you think you’re really going to do with this gorgeous woman, huh?”
Flanked by his two buddies, Sanders slowly moved over to Hughes, took her hand and bent to kiss the back of it. “Enchanté, madame,” he drawled. “What brings you to our humble officers’ club?”
“Oh.” She graced Sanders with a sultry smile. “I’m interested in having some fun.”
“Is that so?” Sanders glanced back at McCabe with a triumphant smirk. “You realize McCabe here has taken a vow of chastity?” He smiled into her eyes and his buddies laughed. “He can’t do anything tonight but beat you at pool, darling.”
Hughes’s gaze darted to Mitch, uncertainty crossing her features. “He’s not even doing that.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow at her. Sanders wasn’t a bad guy. A bit competitive, but mostly harmless.
Her expression hardened, and she turned back to Sanders, who still held her hand. “Buy me a drink, Major?” She jumped off the table and sidled up next to him.
Sanders grinned. “Sure thing, uh…you’re going to think this is a line, but you look familiar. What’s your name, darling?”
Mitch smirked. Sanders didn’t recognize her.
“Alexandria.” Mitch winced as Hughes tried fluttering her eyelashes. It appeared as if she had something painful in her eyes.
“What’re you drinking, Alexandria?” one of Sanders’s buddies asked.
“I’ll take a JD, clean. And make it a double.”
Sanders’s buddy took off to get her drink.
“That’s a hard drink for such a soft woman, Alexandria.” Sanders’s overt flirting knew no shame as his hands came to rest on her waist.
Mitch curled his fists to keep from interfering. What was it to Mitch if she slept with the guy? Or all three of them, for that matter. Besides, he knew good and well she could throw a mean punch. He’d seen her defend herself in worse situations. Like that night in Guam when he’d gotten revenge for the practical joke she’d played on him…
But she’d been in her camos then, and her steel-toed combat boots. He shook his head. Not his problem. Those heels of hers were lethal enough.
Mitch cleared his throat and tapped Sanders on the shoulder. “Uh, if you could move your little party somewhere else, I’d like to finish my game.” He gestured to the shot he’d missed on the pool table.
“Sure thing, Monk-man.” Sanders gave him a malevolent grin before backing away, with Hughes still in his arms.
Mitch clenched his teeth, but smiled back at Sanders. Let the guy gloat. He wasn’t worth a formal reprimand, even if Mitch did long to kick his lily-white butt.
“EXCUSE ME, YOU MISSED THE SHOT, it’s my turn.” Alex couldn’t tolerate Sanders’s hands on her another second. She twisted out of his hold, stumbled in the heels again, and maneuvered herself across the table from Mitch. She tried to strike a sexy pose like Jordan had taught her. Shoulders back, chest out, one hand on her hip…
“You got back problems, Alexandria?” Mitch glanced up from retrieving his cue stick.
She opened her mouth to give a biting reply, but Sanders’s buddy returned with her drink. “Thanks.” She snatched it from his hand and downed the double shot in one swallow.
The guys had followed her around, and Sanders stepped close and put his hand just below the small of her back where her thong strap was. She jerked and barely refrained from grabbing his thumb and twisting it from its socket. She wanted to make Mitch jealous, but if Sanders didn’t keep his hands to himself, she was going to elbow him in the gut.
Mitch moved around the table, rubbing his bristled jaw. His facial hair was only slightly darker than the sun-bleached hair on his head. Just like the hair on his chest and arms, and…down there, too? “Excuse me, Alexandria.” He stood beside her, gesturing to the table. “Are you going to play or not?”
Appalled at her straying thoughts, she snatched up her cue stick, lined up her shot, and sunk the ball.
“Jeez, McCabe, you must have lost your balls in that bet to let a woman beat you,” Sanders taunted.
“As a matter of fact—” Mitch drawled.
“Why don’t you shut the hell up?” Alex straightened and spun to face Sanders.
Sanders barked out a laugh. Ignoring her, he still addressed Mitch. “You such a wuss you let a woman fight your battles now, too?”
Fury churning in her gut, she stomped her stiletto on Sanders’s instep.
He hollered like a kid and bent over to grab his foot. “What the f—”
“Maybe next time you’ll keep your wiseass comments and your hands to yourself.”
“Hughes!” Mitch grabbed her arms from behind and pulled her away. “Sorry, Sanders, you know what a temper Hughes has.” Alex could hear the smile in his voice.
“Hughes?” Sanders
