The Client(26)

Time to exit stage left.

He caught up with me just a few feet from the stairs. I couldn't say I was surprised. Irritated, yes. But not surprised. I knew his type.

“Are you heading out already? He gave me a quick, charming smile. “I was just coming to ask if I could buy you a drink.”

“I'm not thirsty.” Keeping my voice cool, I cut around him. He wasn’t so easily dissuaded, though.

I had one foot on the steps leading down to the lower level when he joined me.

“A dance, then, perhaps?”

Instead of answering right away, I continued my way down the stairs, and on the landing between the levels, I moved over to the railing and tipped my head back to look up at him. His precisely styled hair didn’t move at all as he dipped his head to meet my eyes.

“No dance,” I said levelly. “No drink. You’re not my type.”

His lids flickered a bit at that and a muscle tightened in his jaw. He hadn't liked that. He recovered quickly, though, flashing me a smile that was without a doubt one of the best I’d ever seen.

It did absolutely nothing for me.

“Oh, come on…I bet I can prove you wrong. A drink…” He traced a fingertip down my cheek. “A dance. I bet we could have a lot of…fun.”

Deliberately I stepped away from him, working to control my temper. While I didn't believe in stereotyping, my own red curls and hot-headedness didn't go far to dispelling that particular myth.

I made my voice icy. “Somehow, I really doubt that.”

I pushed past him, and this time, when he tried to follow, I nodded to the security guard at the foot of the stairs. “If you don’t step back now, I’m going to tell that guy down there you’re putting your hands on me without permission. Don’t be surprised if your VIP membership goes on instant probation.”

His face screwed up. “You lying bitch.”

“You touched my face.” Giving him a cat’s smile, I shrugged. “I didn’t invite your touch or give you permission. In fact, I'd told you no. I’m pretty sure that the rules clearly say when told no, you’re supposed to accept and move on.”

Sure, I was being extremely literal with the rules, but the guy was a sleaze. Chances were there were more than a few women here he’d already gotten too hands-on with. This time, he'd picked the wrong one. I didn’t get pushed around – I might push, and push hard, but nobody tried it with me.

His jaw clenched and his face flushed, but he didn’t say anything else, just cut around me, keeping a wide distance. He hesitated at the top of the steps and it didn’t take long to see why. The big guy clad in the discreet suit Gavin preferred his security team to wear was staring dead at him. The look wasn’t happy.

By the time I cleared the steps, the two of them were having a quiet conversation that he didn't appear to be enjoying.

I didn’t spare him another look as I lost myself on the dance floor.



* * *



An hour later, I was finishing up a bottle of water when somebody bumped into me – and hard.

I crashed into the person next to me, felt my ankle giving out.

Already prepared to fall, I wind milled my arms anyway.

I didn’t fall though.

Strong forearms came around my waist and a heated body pressed against mine.

My heart skipped a beat in appreciation.

The scent of clean male sweat filled my head, and I looked up, not quite ready to get hopeful. But then I met his eyes and hope started to race alongside my pulse.

Dark brown eyes held mine.

“I…I’m sorry.” Feeling a little breathless, I smiled up at him. “Excuse me.”

“Please don’t.” He smiled and when he did, his teeth flashed white against the short, neat growth of his beard.

I had dirty images of just how that beard might feel against my girl parts and his response took a minute to process. “Um…what? Please don’t what?”

“Excuse yourself. As a matter of fact, feel free to fall into my arms anytime you want.” He helped steady me, but didn’t let go of my arms right away and I didn’t mind a bit. As a matter of fact, he could have held on a little longer.

“Well, aren't you a flirt.”

“Not much of a flirt. I just speak my mind. And if you hadn't fallen against me, I wouldn’t have gotten a hold of you.” He held out a hand, that wicked, sexy smile still on his lips. “Maybe you'll dance with me and let me hold you again?”

I put my hand in his. “Maybe I’ll do just that.”





Chapter Three





Paxton





“We didn’t do too bad.”

Looking up, I met the eyes of Decker Marley, the man who’d played lead guitar for me ever since I’d first started singing. He was also my best friend, and I knew by the look in his eyes that he was being…polite.