That’s when it struck me.
I was in the middle of a bar. Drunk. A big, powerful man was holding me close to his body and for the first time in my life I didn’t feel scared. Except that wasn’t entirely true, because when Puck Redhouse had held me like this I hadn’t felt scared, either. I still remembered sitting in front of him out by the bonfire, realizing that so long as he had me, no other man could claim me for the night. I didn’t mind that later on I’d be getting naked with him.
Of course, that was before he’d nearly destroyed me by saying I was a bad lay. Then he’d saved my recently abused ass, so I guess after that we were even? Either way, in Joe’s arms I felt better than I’d felt in a long time so it was a good night.
Maybe losing my job wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
I opened my eyes to find Puck himself staring at me from across the room, eyes burning like coals. I shivered, going liquid instantly. God, seeing him did it every time. What was wrong with me? Puck wasn’t even handsome—not like Joe. He was too imperfect, with a ragged scar that cut across his face and a nose that had obviously been broken more than once. Everything about him was rough, almost brutal, and while I knew he wasn’t that much older than me, there were ten lifetimes reflected in his gaze.
Puck was taller than Joe, although he wasn’t quite as bulky. That didn’t mean he was small, just that he didn’t make his living hauling ore in a mine. Joe’s skin was darkened slightly by the ground-in dust and dirt of the deep earth, while Puck’s was deeply bronzed from the sun and the wind, and maybe a hint of some ancestry that wasn’t on the white side.
I felt my nipples tighten as he stared me down, drinking deeply from his brown beer bottle. What did he think of me cradled in Joe’s arms, leaning back against another man almost dreamily? I couldn’t quite read Puck’s expression. It wasn’t friendly. Nope, not even a little. For a second I almost wondered if he’d challenge Joe. I shook my head, wondering where that particular thought had come from.
When I blinked he was gone and I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.
“Hey, bitch,” Danielle said, breaking the spell. “You ready for a bathroom break? I gotta pee like a Russian racehorse. Come with me or I’ll get all sad and lonely and then I’ll have to cry by myself in the ladies’ room . . . and you know what that does to my mascara. We can’t go there.”
“You’re drunk off your ass,” I told her, wondering how Russian racehorses peed.
“And?”
Hard to argue with that.
—
When I finished washing my hands, Danielle had disappeared, faithless slut. I took a few minutes to primp myself back to respectability, then pushed through the door into the darkened hallway.
Puck stood there, eyes all dark fire and stone.
Shit.
Not a happy look. Not happy at all. I took a split second to consider my situation, then decided to make a run for it. Just as fast, Puck stepped forward into my space, blocking the way. What does he want? Best to just play it through, my fuzzy brain decided.
“Hey,” I said.
He didn’t respond, but his eyes trailed down me slowly, taking in every inch of my body. They lingered on my breasts, and I shuddered, remembering the night that he’d done more than just look. Why was he back here? There was absolutely no possible reason for him to be here that ended well for me. None.
Finally he spoke.
“Having a good time?”
I nodded quickly, wondering if I could avoid talking to him entirely. Hell, I wasn’t sure I could make a noise if my life depended on it. Couldn’t move, either, although my inner ancestral monkey screamed that I should start running for the hills and never stop until I was safely hidden deep inside a cave or something.
“You and that guy a thing?”
I shook my head automatically, then cursed myself because I should’ve said yes. Should’ve told him we were together and very happy, and that I planned to marry Joe in a big puffy pastry of a dress in front of five hundred of our closest friends without inviting him. Puck licked his lips, a mixture of frustration and anticipation written across his face.
“You dance like that with a lot of men?”
I shook my head quickly. His eyes grew hot, smothering me, and I had the feeling that we were an instant away from something I couldn’t handle. Puck stepped forward. I shifted back, bumping into the wall. His body wasn’t touching mine, but I felt him all the same, a pressure washing up against me and pinning me until I couldn’t breathe.
“You could dance with me.”
I nearly stroked out, eyes darting to either side. Hadn’t Joe and Blake missed me by now? Why wasn’t anyone saving me? Puck leaned closer until his nose all but touched my cheek, and inhaled, scenting me. I clenched between my legs and then gasped, because even that tiny movement was enough to make it so much worse.