"You look lovely." Ximena passed Solana the high heels she'd requested.

The smooth silk of the dress moved with her as she bent over to put on the shoes. It really was a surprisingly comfortable dress. "Turns out Jack has good taste in outfits."

"He has good taste in a lot of things." Solana ignored the twinkle in her abuela's eyes, adjusting a lace shawl she'd added to the ensemble on her bare shoulders.

When her grandmother asked how the shopping trip went yesterday, Solana omitted the part about breaking her friendship pact with Jack. Despite achieving what he wanted, Jack had surprised her by insisting she attend the wedding. Along with his choice of dress.

Black was basic. Black was classic. Black would help her fit in.

All her life, she'd stood out. Her Latin background barred her from entry into her father's world, people judging her based on her dark hair and permanently tanned skin. Bleaching her hair helped her pass in some circles, but all it took was one stuck-up country club bitch to assume she was the help, and the illusion shattered.

Things were better in her grandmother's circle. She could be bold, brash, and colourful. Yet, although no one explicitly said anything to her or her abuela, Solana's Caucasian genes were a blemish, denying her full Latina status like her girlfriends.

"Speaking of the devil." Her abuela stood at the window. "I didn't think the man could be any more handsome."

A tuxedo clad Jack sauntered up the pathway to the porch, a bouquet of roses in his hand. A heaviness settled in Solana's belly, and she was drawn to him like a magnet. As he hit the second to last step on the porch, they were almost eye to eye. Aviator sunglasses blocked her from swimming in his baby blues, but white teeth dazzled her instead.

Without pause, he leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on her cheek. "You're stunning."

If she shifted her face, she could catch his lips in an actual kiss, but she hesitated, knowing Ximena was watching. The desire to touch him overpowered her as her hand settled on his lapel. Hard warmth met her fingertips. "You're not so bad yourself. Even though you didn't go with the Hawaiian jacket."

"Draven was all for it, but his fiancé insisted the look would ruin the wedding photos."

"Some people have no sense of style."

"You don't know the half of it." Jack's grin widened.

"Happy Valentine's Day." The roses in his hand split into two bundles. The deep red ones stretched her way. "And these are for you." Jack glided around Solana and offered the pink flowers to her grandmother, also placing a kiss on her cheek.

"How beautiful. Thank you." Ximena's face flushed, matching the petals she held. "You shouldn't have."

"You should have flowers brought to you every day."

Solana's heart swelled. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather take my abuela to this wedding?" She loved how he adored her grandmother, happy to share. Mostly.

Jack moved to her, placing his hand on the small of her back and sending sparks to places she needed to stay cool. "It's a tough choice, such exquisite women in this house."

Ximena waved her hand. "Oh, go on with you." She held her hand out to Solana. "I'll put those in water. You two have a nice time."

The warmth of Jack's hand stayed on her back as he guided her to the car, opened the door, and helped her in. With Jack beside her, the limo slid down the street. She snatched the sunglasses off his face. "There you are."

Jack's hand snaked out, catching on her jaw, pulling his mouth to hers, but diverting again to caress her cheek. "Here I am."

Enough of this chaste cheek thing. Solana bracketed his face and crushed her lips against his. He stiffened. "Your lipstick."

She sank back. "You don't like it?"

"No. But you'll ruin it."

"Who cares?"

"My ex-wife didn't like me messing up her makeup."

"I'm not your ex." She dove for him again and this time Jack met her halfway, taking her mouth in a greedy, almost frantic way. His tongue swept over hers, stoking the embers that smoldered in her since the last time he'd kissed her.

Damn. She enjoyed kissing him. Better than speeding down the highway on her motorcycle.

His hands pushed against her shoulders and with a smack, their lips parted, a gap of air separating them. "We have to stop"—his Adam's apple bobbed—"or I won't be able to."

"So don't." She fought to get back to him, straining against the force that held them apart.

"Solana." Her name was a growl, accompanied by his fingers burrowing into her skin. "The best man can't show up a wreck."

"I won't wreck—" His words sank in. "You're the best man?"

"Didn't I mention it?"

"Um, no, I'd remember that little fact." And freak out about it all night rather than have feverish dreams of Jack. If he was the best man, she'd be left by herself, sitting in a sea of rich snobs, ignoring her. The fire in her tamped out, and she slumped back in her seat, balling her fists. "Shouldn't you be with Draven now?"

"No. He's with his parents." Jack ran a thumb along his lower lip. "It's the first time his parents have been in the same room since we graduated boarding school."

"All the more reason he might need you."

His hand fell to his side. "No one needs me, sweetheart."

Although Jack's face was devoid of emotion, Solana had been around him enough to pick up on the signs of his discomfort. The slight straightening of his shoulders, settling into a posture of false ease, the detachment in his expression, eyes chilling.

She slipped her hand into his. "How many people will be there?"

The distance evaporated, and Jack was fully present, concentrating on her. "Oh, it's small. Two hundred on the guest list."

"Two hundred." That was a lot of people to judge her. "How big was your wedding?"

A dent formed between his eyebrows. "Five hundred."

"You have five hundred friends and family?" The biggest wedding she'd been to took place in a park, more like a carnival than a wedding. Even with extended family, it couldn't have been over two hundred and fifty attendees.

"Not even close. My uncle and father-in-law used my wedding as an opportunity to conduct business. Like most of my marriage."

Despite his serious tone, Solana huffed. "Are you trying to convince me you had an arranged marriage?"

"It's the truth."

He usually did tell the truth. Even so, she couldn't believe it. "Stop joking. That only happens in tawdry romance novels."

Jack tapped his chest. "Real life here, sweetheart."

Solana crossed her legs and swore internally at the people in Jack's life and at herself for judging her mother. Turned out her love/hate with high society should sit squarely on the hate side. "Your life could be a Telenovela."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And yours couldn't?"

"Fine. We're both a mess. Happy."

"Almost." He lifted the armrest between them to reveal a small compartment and drew out a rectangular box, the size of a tablet, but covered in black velvet. "Would you wear this?"

The lid swung open revealing a silver strand interspersed with delicate clear stones, two larger one sparkling as they dangled from the bottom, like cherries. Blood rushed away from her fingers and her earlobes, where the miniscule diamonds she'd borrowed from her abuela burned. "Are those real?"

"Of course."

"Did your ex-wife wear this?" Why did she blurt out things?

"No." Jack's eyebrows tried to merge. "She said my mother's jewellery wasn't her style."

"This belonged to your mother?" Solana gaped at the fine strand of silver, or was it platinum, and tried to imagine it around a tall, dark-haired woman oozing elegance. The picture was hazy, with no idea if Jack even resembled her.

"Is that a problem?"

She tore her stare away from the necklace and found eyes full of trepidation. This meant something to him. "I'd love to wear it."

As Solana sat in the third row of the church, gaze glued to Jack, standing tall and straight beside his best friend and a woman wound in gauzy white, her fingers kept brushing against the beautiful necklace. The diamonds, cool on her skin at first, were warm to the touch and the trailing stones sat perfectly in her decolletage. She concentrated on the security of Jack's hand in hers as he walked her out of the church, careful to avoid the other guests, sure they could spot her for the fraud she was.

Once free of the ceremony, men and women alike almost elbowed their way to speak with Jack. He politely shook hands, nodded in agreement, and uttered platitudes, all the while maintaining a stoic stance. When the latest man refused to take Jack's suggestion he reach out to his office for an appointment and insisted on pitching his idea while the butternut squash ravioli on their plates got cold, Solana had enough.

"Listen." She leaned across Jack, the diamonds rapping against the base of her neck, and glared at the man. "This is a wedding, not a conference. Let the man eat his appetizer in peace."

The wedding guest retreated, and Solana caught the astonished expression of the other people at the table. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be." A woman dressed in head to toe green grinned. "About time someone said something."

Out of the corner of her eye, she snuck a glance at Jack. Still completely at ease, but the edge of his lips twitched. She picked up her fork and stuffed a square of pasta in her mouth for something to do.

A hand branded her thigh as hot breath tickled her ear. "Thank you."

With effort, she forced the food down. "Anytime."

"Promise?" The word, low and meant just for her, found its way into her bloodstream and pulsed to every pleasure point in her body.

For the rest of the meal, no one bothered Jack. Either they'd witnessed the berating or rumour spread. No matter, Solana decided she didn't care. While Jack wasn't exactly talkative, like when it was only the two of them, she almost forgot they were in a crowded room.

Until the meal ended.

After a trip to the ladies' room, she returned to find Jack grimace faced as a woman nattered beside him. Shoulders squared; Solana braced for another battle as she tucked into his side.

She wondered if the woman had eaten anything all day, her variegated lipstick looked as if the stain had been airbrushed on. "And who is this?"

A "none of your business" stuck on Solana's tongue as Jack answered. "My friend Solana Wilde."

Make up creased around the brunette's eyes as they widened. "Friend. Well, that's different."

The muscles in Jack's back tensed, and Solana flexed her fingers in a gentle massage. He let out a breath. "Solana, this is Brenda Marino. She and her husband own The Diamond Club."

The chill of a memory seized Solana. Her mother in tears, gripping her hand so tight it hurt as she dragged her across a sun dappled stone patio. The black scuff on the white of her Sunday best shoes Valentia insisted she wear even though it wasn't Sunday. The man with streaks of silver in his brown hair calling for security, spitting obscenities between shouts of "She's not mine."

"Have you been to my club?" Mrs. Marino's question brought Solana back to the room.

"Once. My mother worked there briefly." Jack's embrace tightened and Solana grounded herself in his sturdy hold. "I was very young."

"Probably before our time. We acquired it recently." The older woman's attention caught on something over Jack's shoulder. "Lots of renovations." She edged around him. "You should come by sometime."

Solana highly doubted the sincerity of the invitation, seeing as the resort owner was stepping away before the offer was complete.

The firm line of Jack's mouth cause Solana to resume the small circles she traced on his spine. "She's..." Solana couldn't think of anything nice to say.

Jack moved to face her, his knuckles grazing her cheek. "She doesn't like me much."

"In that case—" Solana pressed his hand against her face "—I don't like her much."

Hey all, DL here. Did you ever think you'd see the day Solana stood up for Jack? 

Anyone else disappointed Jack didn't wear the Hawaiian print jacket?