felt bad for her, but he’d also been pretty irritated to think she’d been eavesdropping. He was tired of never having a minute to himself. Yet her intelligent blue eyes, even behind glasses, had captured him. Now she was sans glasses and the translucent cobalt of her eyes struck a chord deep inside him, making him think of Caribbean waters. The sparkling dress showed off her lightly bronzed skin and a fluted collarbone.
He could picture himself kissing her there, in that hollow.
His skin prickled as she shifted slightly and their eyes connected. He saw the fire under the water.
Derek’s chest tightened, his body flooded with thirst. He wanted to drink her in.
His automatic response was swift and surprising. He kicked himself internally, trying to snap out of it. He told himself she was probably bulimic. Or bitchy. He didn’t have time for any drama. What if she was a stalker? He’d run into her twice in the last six hours.
Oddly, she blinked at him. And then blinked again, rapidly.
He forced himself to nod and keep moving. Talk about the worst time and place to meet a girl. Plus, the only reason a young woman would be at this party, alone, was to find a rich man.
Not happening, blinky.
* * *
The crowd around Hara had shifted their focus to two men entering the room.
The six-foot-seven Charles Butler, scrawnier than Hara had imagined but just as handsome, charmed the people around her with his smile and fist bumps—a completely different personality than the quiet, frustrating version he often presented to the press before or after games, answering questions with one or two words, if at all. Now the player strolled casually through the crowd, calling out to people by name.
But it was the man next to Charles who had grabbed her attention. She couldn’t believe it.
Only a few inches shorter than his popular teammate, Derek Darcy was just as tall and as built as he had been earlier that day, and he looked damn fine. Once again, she thought of a lion as he moved, silent and lithe. His broad shoulders and biceps bulged through his suit jacket, not to be missed, nor was the strong square jaw. Hara felt herself drawn to him, wanting to touch him, to share space with this perfect specimen of a man.
Derek’s glance was roving over the crowd, but then slid back to her. His eyes widened. The breath in her throat caught as again, the bold color of his eyes stunned her, the long black lashes framing brilliant, burnished-maple irises. Pinned in place, she had yet to breathe. Did Derek Darcy remember her? He stared and she couldn’t look away, unsure of what to do.
Hara blinked, and then blinked again rapidly, her eyes painfully dry; that broke the spell.
He nodded, almost sternly, and then moved on. It took a second to catch her breath and let her heart settle back down.
A young woman about Hara’s age stepped close. “Did he smile at you?” she asked dreamily, following the players with her eyes as the two men melted into the crowd.
“Who?”
“Derek! Oh my gawd, that man is fire,” the girl said, fanning her face dramatically. She might have arrived straight from a photo shoot, wearing a neck scarf and a strapless, plunging jumpsuit that defied physics, with her nutmeg hair perfectly shaped in an au naturel puff. She was so well put together that Hara felt like a brace-faced, pimply kid standing next to a superstar.
“He didn’t smile.” Hara paused. “He did nod, though.”
The girl pouted her perfect lips, shaded red, and said, “I like him. Even though he never talks to me. Or anybody.” She reached out a hand to Hara. “I’m Naomi. Who are you?”
“I’m Hara. I’m a reporter out of Portland.”
“Ah, lobsters and such. Do you love it there?”
“No, I’m sorry, I’m from Portland, Oregon. We’re more about the salmon.” Hara laughed. “So, you know Derek Darcy?”
“Kinda.” Naomi fingered her scarf and continued to stare after the players. “I’ve been hanging with this crowd since I dated a player last season, but he was cut. Which was a bummer, but not really. I mean, so many fish in this sea.” She smacked her red lips, humming at a cluster of men she spotted across the room, including Butler. Quietly, she said, “And Charles is the biggest fish.”
Hara tilted her head. “You know Charles, then? Are you guys dating?”
Naomi’s Afro bobbed as she whipped her head around. “Shhh. Tina will kill me, kill both