She needed to get inside.
She gasped as she barreled into something solid and skidded backward on her heels. Unable to keep her balance, she twisted her ankle as she dropped to her knee.
“Holy shit,” another male voice rumbled. “Are you okay?”
Tina snapped her eyes shut for a split second, appreciative that someone had come to her aid.
“Tell me you’re all right.”
Wait—she recognized that Barry White baritone. She gazed up as Vincent lifted her to her feet.
“Tina?”
“Vincent?” She smiled, his concerned expression a welcome sight. When she tried to put pressure on her right foot to get up, she winced in pain. “Crap.”
“You’re hurt.” He gazed down at her foot. “In a hurry?”
More than he’d ever know. “I, um.” Speechless. She’d met Vincent the same night her best friend met her husband a year ago. Apparently he still intimidated her—all six foot five of his muscular frame. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Some asshole followed me from downtown, and I didn’t know where else to go.”
Vincent snaked his arm around her waist, supplying the extra support she needed to stand. “Where?”
“He called out to me a second before I collided with you. His name is Kline Barnes; he drives a black Benz.”
Vincent scanned the farthest reaches of the parking lot. “I don’t see anyone. How well do you know this guy?”
“Not personally. He’s a client at my law firm. That’s what confuses me most; he pled no contest on an assault charge and I brokered a reduced sentence. It’s a matter of public record.”
He rubbed his chin. “You’re safe now. Let’s get you to the clubhouse—Doc can check your ankle.” He swept her into his strong arms and headed for the compound behind the bar.
She stared at the clear nighttime sky full of stars. By whatever providence she’d arrived at Valhalla at the same moment Vincent was outside, she didn’t care. She liked being in his arms again.
Chapter 2
Vincent gently lowered her onto one of the leather couches near the big-screen TV. With half his Brothers in Austin on business, the clubhouse was quieter than normal. He grabbed one of the pillows off a nearby recliner and elevated her injured foot. God, she looked great—completely edible in that silky black skirt and low-cut leather halter top hidden underneath a short-sleeved half jacket. One look at her ridiculously high-heeled shoes told him how she’d twisted her ankle.
“Into self-torture?” he asked, removing the suicide stiletto. “You don’t need heels to accentuate those pretty legs, Tina.”
She chuckled, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Thanks for noticing,” she said.
He placed her shoe on the coffee table, then examined her swollen ankle. Yep—definitely sprained. “Still living at the Sendera BayPoint Apartments?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I need to know where to take you in the morning.”
“Morning?” she repeated with surprise. “I plan on cuddling up in my bed once we’re done here.”
He snorted. “If you think I’m letting you go, you’re delusional.”
“On what grounds?”
Did he need to spell it out for her? “Injury aside? You sought protection from the Sons of Odin. I’m obligated to grant you refuge.”
She sat up. “Refuge? Last time I checked we weren’t in Vatican City.” She rolled her green eyes. “I didn’t want that prick to follow me home. That’s all. Maybe have a couple of drinks, hang out for a while, then go—pretend I was never here.”
Vincent hadn’t seen her in five months, since his best friend’s wedding. But every time he did, she gave him a raging hard-on. Her smooth, olive-toned skin made his fingers take on a life of their own. Must touch. Must fuck her before I explode in my pants.
“Hey…” She snapped her fingers playfully. “Earth to Vincent. I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but you’re making me nervous. You kind of disappeared into your thoughts. Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “Yes.”
She grinned, eyeing their surroundings. “I see nothing has changed in the clubhouse.”
“Still party central most of the time. Half the club is out of town right now.”
“So we’re alone?”
“Sort of. Everyone is in bed.”
“This early?”
He shrugged. “Don’t believe all the rumors you hear. Most of us work for a living. We don’t raise hell every night.”
“I always wondered about you,” she teased.