“I’ll be at the bar for a while.” I nodded and watched as he sidled up to the bar, finding a spot in the far corner where he could sulk, but while still keeping an eye out for Claire.
Unable to stop myself, I glanced back up at the VIP section. I sighed once I noticed it was empty. I gave Claire a sharp look of disapproval as I passed the table on my way to the restroom. The smile she’d pasted on for her companion faltered as our gazes locked, but she blinked and returned the smile to her face as she turned back to him.
I shook my head as I entered the bathroom, frustrated with my roommates, frustrated with myself for wondering if I’d see the mystery man again.
A few short minutes later, I stepped into the hallway and ran right into a tall blonde woman. “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to steady her as she stumbled. She huffed and mumbled something I couldn’t understand before pushing the door to the bathroom open aggressively.
Okay…
I continued down the hall, but just as I approached the opening to the club, someone’s hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me aside. I sucked in a sharp breath as my back hit the wall with a soft thud.
I yelped, preparing to scream for help, when I was greeted with his face. My shout died in my throat as I stared into his eyes. “You.”
“Me,” he replied, staring at me, causing an awkward silence that made me shift nervously.
“What—what are you doing here?” Stupid question—it’s a club. But I came here often and didn’t remember seeing him.
“It’s my club. I’m usually here.”
“Oh… Really? I’ve never seen you here before.”
He shrugged. “Is he your boyfriend?”
He glanced over his shoulder to where Trace was seated at the bar. My instincts told me to lie, to say yes, and give him a reason to abandon his pursuit. It was hard to figure out what was going on in his head from his expression, but I knew lust when I saw it. Though he tried to hide it with an angry scowl, he wanted me, and lying about Trace could get him to back off.
I shook my head slowly, flinching as he reached out and ran his fingers up my jawline, behind my ears, and then into my hair. Inadvertently, I leaned into his touch, our eyes never breaking contact.
“Come up to my lounge.” Not a question—a demand, almost like a proposition for hot, dirty sex without actually saying the words.
“I can’t,” I squeaked out, then cleared my throat and continued, “I’m here with friends.”
And you don’t know this man, a voice whispered in my head.
“Make an excuse. Security will let you up. I’ll be waiting.” He turned and made his way back to the stairwell without even waiting for confirmation that I’d soon follow behind.
It took a few minutes to recover from being so close to him. My heart pounded and my hands felt clammy. I couldn’t explain my reaction, but it was unwelcome, and it left me feeling unsettled.
I found Trace at the bar nursing another glass of scotch.
“Hey.” He looked up at me briefly before his gaze returned to Claire and her new friend.
“I met a guy.”
He gave me an unsurprised look. “You always meet a guy, Jules.”
I slapped his arm. “You don’t have to make it seem like I’m easy.”
“I didn’t say easy. If anything, I feel bad for the guys you meet. They always go home with blue balls.”
“Oh? So what you meant was I’m a tease?”
“I’m going to stop talking now.” He tapped his empty tumbler on the bar top to get the bartender’s attention. “I’m in enough trouble with Claire. I don’t need to get into it with you, too.”
“Well, I’m going to be up in VIP. If I don’t come down in half an hour, come get me.”
“Sure thing.” He raised his glass to me and drank the scotch quickly. I didn’t know how wise it was to put a guy who was halfway to being tanked in charge of my protection, but I had no other options, and I was pretty sure I needed some kind of backup against the man waiting up in VIP for me.
Chapter Three
Juliana
I was being foolish. I dragged my feet, my footsteps getting heavier as I approached the spiral staircase that led up to his lounge. I was headed for trouble. The man was obviously sexy, rich, and powerful, but he was also dark¸ brooding, and cold.
And entirely too intimidating.
A tall, lean man with a goatee and angry eyes barely glanced at me as I reached the top. He stepped aside and let me into the balcony lounge area. My mystery man was seated in an oversized chair that looked to be made for a king.
Most people would look out of place in such a chair, but it seemed as though it was made for him. The area overlooked the entire club and was sectioned off from the other VIP sections for privacy. A few men dressed in dark suits lingered about. One man leaned down and listened to his directives, and before I even made it to his side, the room had cleared. He gestured to a long, black couch to his right. “Have a seat.”