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She glanced down at her short pleated skirt and low-cut top. After leaving the island, she'd taken his advice and purchased more clothes that accentuated her feminine side. "Sophie and I went on a shopping spree."

He nodded approvingly. "Works for me," he said, his tone deeper than before.

He stepped closer and captured her in his arms, pulling her close and before she could blink, his lips came down hard on hers. His tongue plunged into her waiting mouth and she opened wide, accepting him because he had come for her. If she could have scripted the scenario, she couldn’t have planned it any better.

She blinked and reality set in. Damian still stood before her.

She shivered and shook her head hard. "So what brings you by?”

He drew a deep breath and lowered himself into the nearest chair. "I have an appointment with your uncle."

"Oh”

"And I also need to talk to you.”

She narrowed her gaze. "Okay "

He ran a hand through his hair. She'd never seen him so flustered before. "I need a friend."

She wanted to be more but knew she had to settle for whatever he offered. "You know I'm that”

He bowed his head. Almost as if he couldn't face her, Micki thought and her throat filled with fear. "What is it?”

A knock sounded on her door and Micki’s secretary entered. 'Today's papers are here," Amy said, interrupting them.

"Thanks." Micki didn't look over her shoulder at the other woman.

"I'll just leave them on your desk." Amy walked in and placed the papers down before taking off again.

"Sorry. Papers are a publicist's lifeblood," Micki explained.

He nodded. "That's sort of why I'm here."

She raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"There's no easy way to say this so… Just take a look." He gestured toward the stack of dailies. "Start with the News. They're the most creative with the headlines"

Micki picked up the top paper, The Daily News, and flipped it to the back page. The headline read Miami Love Machine. Beneath it, the caption elaborated, "Miami legal secretary claims New York Renegades center fielder Damian Fuller is the father of her unborn child. Full story p. 72." The photo, which took up much of the back page, showed the woman Micki recognized as Damian's date from Tampa, leaving the Marriott Marquis on Broadway.

Micki's head swam with so many emotions she couldn't sort through them all. Shock, disbelief, pain and a completely unreasonable sense of betrayal all ricocheted around her mind and buffeted her body.

And to think she'd hoped he'd come to claim her as his own. Because even though he'd never promised her anything, Micki had held on to the hope that somehow she'd meant something to him.

This paper, whether or not it portrayed the truth, was proof of Damian's playboy ways and his inability to care for one woman long-term. Micki had been a fool to think otherwise.

She slowly laid the paper down on the desk. Swallowing her own pain, she turned to face him. He'd said he needed a friend. Somehow she'd be his friend. "What are you going to do?"

He shook his head and shrugged. “That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay… Forgive me for asking the obvious but is it yours?"

"I wish to hell I knew." He rose and paced the floor, ending up at the window overlooking the city.

She wondered if he found the same comfort in the sameness of the skyline that she often did, then realized that nothing would soothe her now.

"So you need to ask for a paternity test."

He turned and nodded in agreement.

Micki swallowed hard. "And if the baby is yours?”

When he didn't reply right away, she offered up an alternative that nearly broke her heart. "Marriage?"

"Hell no." He answered immediately. "Child support, yes. Support for Carole, maybe. But marriage?" Damian shook his head, then held it in his hands as if the pain were overwhelming.

"Are you asking my opinion?" she asked in disbelief. Nobody could tell him what to do.

He shook his head. "Back at the airport you said if I ever needed you for anything…to spin a situation or just to vent, I should come to you. So here I am." His smile didn't reach his eyes. 'To tell you the truth, I didn't even think this would hit the papers. I had no idea till I woke up this morning but I guess it needs to be handled, right?"

"Right," she managed to say, stunned. "You want me to help you spin the story?"

He leaned against the plate-glass window, his dark eyes imploring as he merely inclined his head.

Her mouth grew dry at the thought of being his publicist for this very public, very painful ordeal. She definitely didn't think she could work by his side and deal with her very real feelings for him while at the same time he worked through a relationship with another woman that would last a lifetime.

Apparently he had no such trouble working alongside her in that capacity. The truth stung.

"You're the best at what you do." For the first time, a teasing grin curled his lips.

“Under any other circumstances I'd be flattered." She let out a bitter laugh.

"Micki-" He reached for her hand but she pulled back, not wanting to touch him and set off the sparks she knew would follow.

"I need to step outside for a minute." She needed time alone. Without meeting his gaze, she turned and walked out.

Once in the hall, she leaned back and forced air into her lungs. They'd been home from Florida for two weeks and he hadn't as much as picked up the phone. Now when he was in the ultimate kind of trouble, he showed up on her doorstep. Here she was again, Micki Jordan, every guy's pal, she thought in frustration.

But she didn't question what she'd do. Micki could never turn down anyone in need. She knew better than to think she could ignore Damian's plea. If he needed her professional help, she'd provide it

But no way would she give of herself emotionally again.

"YOU'RE AN ASS, Fuller," Damian said, swinging his hand uselessly in the air.

He couldn't believe he'd been so damn stupid. Selfish. Unfeeling. He'd woken up hungover and needing someone. Micki had been the only person who'd come to mind. The only one he'd wanted to share his pain with and the only person he trusted enough to ask for help. Unfortunately in all his thinking about himself, not once had he taken her feelings into account.

The news had hurt her, that much was obvious. If there was one person on this earth he'd want to protect from pain, it was Micki. Too late now, he thought, disgusted with himself.

He knew she'd walked out so she could be alone and retreat behind every emotional wall she could find. He didn't blame her. If he had a brick wall he could hide behind, he'd be there in an instant. Problem was, he didn't have that luxury. Nothing would make Carole and her pregnancy go away. He couldn't change the fact that he was back-page headlines again, this time with a scandal that would do far more damage than good.

He couldn't deny he needed Micki's unique ability to spin a story his way nor could he ignore that it might be the only way for him to keep her in his life. At least until he sorted through this personal mess and came out the other side. Right now Micki was his lifeline and he needed her. Apparently knowing he was selfish and doing something about it were two different things.

Without warning the door swung open wide and Micki walked back inside, her sister Sophie and her uncle Yank right behind her.

He stiffened, ignoring the embarrassment he felt at being caught with his pants down by people he admired and cared for. "Why do I have the feeling I'd rather face a firing squad than the three of you?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know," Yank said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Maybe because you can't keep your pecker in your pants and now we've got ourselves a situation?" The older man picked up the paper and flung it Damian's way.

Damian winced. It was bad enough he'd still have to explain this mess to his family but now he was faced with Micki's. "I really don't see how that's relevant to my career."