Ready or Not

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  512 Forest Lake Drive

  Warner Robins, Georgia 31093

  Ready or Not

  Copyright © 2007 by Anara Bella

  Cover by Vanessa Hawthorne

  ISBN: 1-59998-616-7

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2007

  Ready or Not

  Anara Bella

  Dedication

  For my father whose constant love and support have helped me through the toughest of times. I love you, Dad.

  For Samantha Storm, who’s been an unfailing help and support through thick and thin. Thank you for always being willing to kick my butt into gear when I needed it, which was embarrassingly often. LOL

  For my fur-baby, Buttons, who for eighteen years was never more than an arm’s length away. You are sorely missed.

  For my editor, Immi, who took a chance on me, and cheerfully walked me through the entire publishing process.

  Chapter One

  She’d really done it this time.

  After a lifetime of getting into one scrape after another, Brianna had finally managed to pull off the big one. The snafu of snafus. The fiasco of fiascos. Oh hell. Might as well call it what it really was.

  The worst fuckup of her entire ridiculous life.

  She peeped back into the living room full of rowdy men, all impatiently waiting for her. And there, smack dab in the middle of them, was the very last man she wanted to see right now. Quinn MacRae.

  The bane of her existence. The epitome of trouble. The very embodiment of the biggest pain in her ass.

  The absolute love of her life.

  Shit.

  How was she going to get out of this one?

  One of the rowdies spotted her and pointed in her direction. “Hey, I think she’s finally coming out!”

  His pronouncement sent the rest of the pack into a frenzy of hooting and hollering. Brianna slammed the door shut and leaned back against it.

  She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t. Not with Quinn there.

  The hollering changed from a cacophony of whistles and catcalls to an orchestrated chant of her stage name. “Si-ren! Si-ren! Si-ren!”

  What was she going to do? Better yet, how had she let herself get talked into this in the first place?

  She caught sight of the phone bill sticking out of her purse. Oh yeah, that’s how. She was flat broke.

  Well, that and the fact that her best friend Maggie had called, coughing and hacking, begging her to take over tonight. Since they’d practiced Maggie’s routine together, Brianna was her first and only choice to take her place. The ironic part was that Brianna had never done anything like this before. She only knew the routine because it was an amazing workout. Must be something to do with all that bumping and grinding.

  Her face flamed at the thought of Quinn seeing her do those suggestive moves. He already had a less-than-stellar opinion of her. She didn’t think this latest mess was going to improve things any.

  A movement across the room caught her eye, making her jump. For a second she’d thought someone else was in the room with her, but it was only her reflection in the mirror. Brianna stopped and really looked at herself.

  Her hair was teased into a wild and sexy do completely unlike she usually wore it. Plus which, she’d slathered on so much makeup her own mother wouldn’t recognize her.

  Feeling hopeful for the first time since she’d spotted Quinn, she stepped closer to the mirror and pushed at her breasts. You know, in this skimpy harem-girl getup she really didn’t think any of the guys would be looking at her face any time soon. Breasts pressed and plumped to magnificent proportions in the red push-up bra, even she barely recognized the monolithic pair as her own.

  Nope, there wasn’t a man alive who’d be looking at her face. Not even Quinn.

  Relief washed over her. She was safe. An idiot. But safe.

  Besides, what did she care what he thought of her even if he did recognize her? Her shoulders straightened of their own accord. Tilting her chin up, she bravely met the gaze of the seemingly confident woman reflected back at her.

  She was a good person. Occasionally she got into some trouble. Okay, more than occasionally, but within reasonable parameters. The bottom line was she needed the money. That she was willing to work for that money made her an honest person as well as a good one.

  So there, Mister Holier-than-thou Quinn MacRae.

  Giving a final nod to her sexed-up image, she headed back to the door. The men were now stomping their feet in tandem with their chanting. She couldn’t put them off any longer without causing a riot.

  Pulling herself up to her full five foot ten inches, plus the four-inch stilettos, she put on her mental suit of armor. She could do this. She would do this. Consequences be damned.

  She opened the door and the chanting stopped. As one, the men fixed their hungry eyes on her, raking over every inch of her body in the revealing costume. Stripping her before she’d even started the routine.

  She wanted to turn and run. To get the hell out of there. But there was no turning back now.

  There was nothing to do but brazen it out.

  * * *

  Quinn always felt stupid at these things.

  He enjoyed looking at a beautiful woman as much as the next guy, but this was so phony. A bunch of sex-starved dweebs drooling over a woman who most likely wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Not much of a turn-on, if you asked him.

  Of course, nobody asked him. And if he said anything they’d all think he was nuts. Well, hell. Maybe he was nuts. Bachelor parties were a time-honored tradition, after all.

  At the sudden break in the deafening ruckus, he turned to check out what had grabbed everyone’s attention, and there, just across the room, a pair of the most magnificent breasts he’d ever laid eyes on were making their way over to where he sat. Perched above equally impressive long legs encased in sheer harem pants and balanced on red stilettos, they bounced in mouth-watering time with each step she took. At that moment, he knew for a certainty his own personal fantasy had come to life.

  In fact, she was better than any fantasy he could come up with. He blinked hard to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. Nope, she was real, all right.

  It was the oddest thing. A part of him knew there was a complete woman there, attached to the fantasy package, but damned if he could focus on anything else to check it out. All he could see were tits and legs. He suddenly felt like a hormone-crazed teenager.

  Okay, so maybe there was more than a bit of the dweeb in him, as well.

  He sat forward, enjoying the view as she continued to come in his direction, her sexy strut practically hypnotizing him along the way. When the bounteous beauty stopped in front of him, he almost dropped to his knees and thanked every god he’d ever heard of.

  And it just kept getting better. From this close proximity, her breasts looked about ready to pop clear out of their tight confinement.

  He should be so lucky.

  In any event, he couldn’t seem to unglue his gaze from their
mesmerizing voluptuousness just in case they actually did, and he fervently hoped one of those gods was listening. The fact that he’d so far managed to keep his eyes inside his head instead of having them pop out and roll across the floor like some wacky cartoon character was a Herculean feat all on its own that he’d be proud of for the rest of his life.

  That was when he finally realized she hadn’t stopped directly in front of him, but rather beside him, in front of his best friend Dennis. Understandable, since Dennis was the groom, unlike Quinn who was only the best man.

  Someone in the room threw on some music and the breathtaking creature started bumping and grinding seductively to the insistent beat of the revamped disco number. She was so close he could almost reach out and touch her, and he fought hard against the urge to do that very thing.

  Her breasts jiggled, her enticing ass shimmied, and her never-ending legs performed moves that should have been impossible in those four-inch heels. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and more than one part of his body was at full attention now.

  It was strange though. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her somehow. It was impossible, since he’d certainly never forget if he’d been lucky enough to know a woman who looked like this one. But still…there was something about that belly ring, and that tattoo…

  She continued her seductive dance and he focused on the discreet, half-inch rose tattooed high on her right breast. It was beautifully done, delicate and intricate, and it served as a homing beacon that drew his eyes, making him want to kiss her just…right…there.

  The thing was, he could have sworn he’d seen it before. But where? When? And on who?

  His mind ticked through the possibilities while his captivated gaze slipped down and drank in her hips as they undulated in a way that should have defied all the laws of nature. He couldn’t help himself. Images of wild, raunchy sex bombarded him as he fought down the animal instinct to grab her and bury himself deep inside of her.

  Good God! This was complete madness. He wasn’t normally like this, like some rutting animal barely held at bay, but he knew in a bone-deep way that someone as agile as this woman would be awesome in bed.

  Everything in his body thrummed to the pounding beat as he watched her, and his entire being wholeheartedly agreed with the lyrics that she was indeed hot stuff.

  With a flourish of her hand, she whipped off the sheer harem pants and the next thing he knew the almost-see-through wisp of fabric gently landed on his head, momentarily obscuring his view.

  He grabbed it off his head and breathed deep as her scent assailed him. An intoxicating combination of something herbal and her entirely feminine essence, making him think of sweaty sex and rumpled sheets. Pushing hard to dislodge the barrage of erotic images, he tried again to concentrate on placing the tattoo, but the effort was futile. No doubt because at that particular moment he didn’t have any blood left in his brain.

  With heart-stopping effect, she picked that instant to turn around and bend over, giving him an up-close-and-personal view of the red thong that didn’t even pretend to cover her assets.

  His breath caught and held. Okay, that almost killed him. What the hell was going on? He was in agony from the boner he was sporting, and more than a little mystified as to why this woman affected him so strongly. She certainly wasn’t the first woman he’d seen in this state of undress.

  Just because she was displayed in front of him in all her glory like a tempting dessert cart really wasn’t enough of a reason for this exaggerated reaction.

  Maybe it had been too long since he’d been laid. No, it had definitely been too long since he’d been laid.

  She finally twirled back around to face him, shimmying her upper body to the driving beat of the music.

  Okay, Quinn. The neck up, try to focus on the neck up.

  Easier said than done, especially since it looked like her red bra-like top was going to be the next thing to come off, but damned if that familiar feeling didn’t persist. He’d met her before, he just knew it. Even her scent was vaguely familiar. Why couldn’t he place her?

  He shook himself. Come on, man, look at her face already. Her name isn’t tattooed on her breasts.

  Or is it?

  Distracted yet again from his goal, he continued to watch the enticing mounds bouncing in front of him. He told himself it was to help place the tattoo, but he knew that wasn’t true. Her breasts called to him. Drew him in. Hypnotized him.

  This was ridiculous! If he wanted to figure out who she was, he had to look at her face, dammit.

  Finally managing to force his gaze up, it traveled past her hair—nothing out of the ordinary there, he knew lots of brunettes. Continued past her luscious red lips, took in her pert nose—were those freckles?—and was finally grabbed by a pair of striking eyes.

  Eyes that were nothing short of stunning. Unusual eyes, almost exotic, both in color and shape, and he was sure they’d haunted more than one of his erotic dreams. They were the clear, unbroken blue green of a tropical ocean. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d only ever seen one pair of eyes that color before. But on who?

  He frowned, and focused more closely on her features. It was hard to tell with all that makeup, besides which the sex kitten never stopped moving long enough for him to get a good look at her face. Almost like she was deliberately trying to hide who she was. But that didn’t make sense.

  Or did it?

  He narrowed his eyes, almost standing to get a better look, and her eyes widened when she saw he wasn’t looking at her body any more, but rather at her face. Quinn’s frustration mounted. The connection was almost there, like a word on the tip of his tongue. Another few seconds and he knew it would finally come to him.

  Panic flashed across her strong features moments before she spun about, shaking her scrumptious ass in his direction again. She obviously hoped to distract him, but it was too late. He knew who she was. And it was no wonder she’d tried to hide her identity from him.

  Brianna!

  Before he could do more than acknowledge it to himself, she whirled back around and those mouth-watering mounds he’d been fantasizing about were exposed in full view for everyone to see.

  They were glorious to behold. Lush, full, topped with delectable berry red nipples that his mouth just ached to wrap around, with the adorable little tattoo almost pointing the way to Mecca.

  Dimly he heard the whistles and catcalls of the other men enjoying the view. He obviously wasn’t alone in thinking they were glorious.

  Well, damn! There were almost a dozen other guys in here. And they were all gawking at Brianna’s breasts.

  That did it. Finally mobilized, he jumped up. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?”

  He barely registered the other guys hollering at him to shut up and sit down. They could shout all they wanted. There was no way he was moving. He was rooted to the spot. Even though it didn’t make a lick of sense, he was desperately trying to figure out how to cover this crazy woman up.

  Some of the blood flow must have moved back north because his brain finally jerked out of the stall mode it had been in and he whipped off his shirt, holding it in front of her. “Put this on!”

  Instead of being grateful, the stupid woman swatted at his attempts to cover her up. “Stop that! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing? I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

  Still swatting his shirt away, she glared at him, her annoyance practically laser-beaming him from existence. “Did I ask for your help?”

  “No, but you obviously need it. Now, put this on!”

  The drunken groom-to-be staggered upright, swaying slightly. “What’d you stop her for? She’s supposed to take her clothes off. That’s how it works, ya know.”

  Quinn pushed on his friend’s shoulder. “Sit down before you fall down.”

  Looking mildly confused and more than a little disgruntled, Dennis did as he was told, almos
t toppling over in the process.

  Quinn turned back to the squirming woman in front of him and somehow managed to shove her into his shirt. “How do you continually get yourself into these things?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, and with his libido still in overdrive, it only made him want to kiss her silly on the spot. “I do nothing of the kind.”

  He thought of the times he’d seen her at parties taking part in one crazy thing or another, from dancing on tabletops to entering drinking contests. “Yeah, you do. And from what I can tell, you need a keeper.”

  “Even if I did, you wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  He laughed despite himself. “I don’t imagine I am.”

  The shouting from the other guys in the room was getting out of control. No doubt, the excess of beer that had flowed while they were waiting for Siren, er, Brianna, to arrive, wasn’t helping things any. He had to get her out of there, and fast.

  He grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards the room where she’d gotten ready. It would have been a lot easier if she’d been the least bit cooperative, but she dragged her feet, wriggling to get out of his grasp, complaining loudly about his interfering the entire way.

  Quinn motioned at his brother Mark to put on one of the X-rated videos piled up beside the TV, hoping it would distract the guys, then continued on his mission to get Brianna out of there.

  With a final flourish, he pushed her into the spare room and locked the door behind him.

  Wrenching her wrist out of his grasp and stepping away from him, she spat out, “Will you knock it off?”

  “Will you?”