Good night, Damon.It was almost worth saying it just to see the stunned expression on Damon’s face. Reveling in that—and in the way he looked at her nearly undressed body, too—Natasha realized for the first time that maybe, maybe, Damon was right.Maybe she was too drunk for this.Her irrational glee at his gob-smacked expression hinted at that. So did the unsteady way she kicked away her dropped robe, then flounced across her bedroom in her silky chemise, knowing full well that Damon’s gaze was on her the whole time.Maybe she ought to be more careful, Natasha thought. Maybe she ought to think twice before she continued taunting Damon.But thinking twice about things was what she’d hoped to avoid by knocking back twice as much Guinness as usual. Her tendency toward being careful was what she’d been trying to obliterate all day long, beginning with her spontaneous picnic and roller coaster ride and ending with ... this moment, right now.So Natasha only brazened right on with another page from Damon’s never-fail playboy playbook.
