Work is where I feel most alive, though a break is always nice once in a while. I guess that’s why I’d decided to come out tonight, even though I'd already had a long day in the office.
My eyes wander the bar, skimming over the faces of the people here. It’s hard to see through the smoke and the dark. Bodies wind and dance together to the brassy thump of the music, glasses clinking over the buzzing sound of chatter and laughter.
Then, in one single moment, everything seems to instantly stop.
It’s like time has frozen. The bodies, the music, the lone bead of sweat trickling down the nape of my neck . . . Everything screams to a halt when the front door swings open and a woman with the longest legs I’ve ever seen takes one step inside. Stars from outside shimmer down on her head, her ebony hair tumbling over her shoulders as her eyes shift up and down the bar.
Though she’s alone, her chin is lifted, eyes piercing through the hazy shadows. I can’t see what color they are from here but I can tell they’re piercing. They’re the kind of eyes that can see right through you. She strides forward like she owns the place, each long step making her hips sway. One of her hands glides effortlessly into the back pocket of her tight jeans. Dark hair, sleek as a raven’s wing, coils past her shoulders.
Now that is a gorgeous woman.
Eric’s elbow finds my ribs, making me jump. I shoot him a glare, concentration broken.
“You like what you’re seeing?” he teases, bleary-eyed from the alcohol and the fact that the waitress keeps circling us like a shark.
She’s clinging to the check, hoping if the whiskey hits us hard enough I’ll buy another round. I applaud her effort. She’d probably do well as a saleswoman in my company. But if Eric wants more top-shelf liquor, he’s going to have to buy it for himself. I’ve found something else to occupy my evening.
“Actually, I do like what I see,” I answer shortly, eyes narrowing back on the woman who’d just entered the room. “She’s the sexiest woman in this bar.”
Eric clicks his tongue in disagreement though he doesn’t say anything. He’s way more into women like the waitress, with her pouty glossed lips and cleavage-baring shirt. He wants to know exactly what he’s putting his hands on before he does. I love the mystery more.
In dark-wash jeans, this woman isn’t dressed skimpily by any means, though that doesn’t stop her from being stunning as hell. It doesn’t hurt that I can all but feel her confidence from here. She doesn’t shy into the shadows of the bar, coyly avoiding the open stares of not only myself but just about every other man here tonight. Instead, she seems to just soak up the attention while simultaneously managing to ignore it completely.
The dark-haired beauty leans over the bar counter, her elbows resting on the wood. She smiles faintly as she speaks, brushing her hair from her bare shoulders. Like her jeans, her off the shoulder shirt is so form fitting it could be painted on to her flawless body. I want to run my hands over the soft fabric, dipping my fingertips under the hem to feel the warmth of her skin below.
A man approaches her, running a hand through his hair. I can tell from across the room that he’s so nervous his knees are probably knocking together. If I was anything like the rest of the men here tonight, I might be unnerved by the sight of her, too. But I’m nothing like any of them. I’m successful, handsome and obscenely wealthy.
I’m not being arrogant; I’m just stating honest facts.
Not only have I been glorified for my commercial successes, but I’ve also been featured in numerous sexiest bachelor campaigns—always for charity of course—as well as those irritating fundraisers where dates with me are auctioned off. I’m always one of the most sought-after men of the night.
I could have any woman I choose, so why would I need to be apprehensive about approaching one? It’s not like anyone’s ever told me no. Anyone can tell with one look at me just how lucky they are to have my attention.
I turn my coveted attention back to the mystery woman at the bar. She turns slightly away as the man approaches her, pointedly ignoring him. When his fingers brush over her toned arm, she whips toward him and narrows her eyes. Her mouth moves though I can’t make out the short sentence she says. Whatever it is, it sends the poor guy backpedaling. His face glows red and it’s not from any of the overhead lights. Her rebuff of his advances is swift and undoubtedly ice cold.
It makes me like her even more.
Dejected, the poor guy shoves his hands in his pockets and retreats.
Eric bursts into laughter beside me, shaking his head. “Did you guys see that? She shot him down hard. You don’t have a chance in hell, Donovan. I’m calling it now. You’re going to wind up back here with your tail between your legs.”
“You really think a girl can resist this?” I smirk, gesturing at myself and only half kidding. “Please, she’ll melt into a puddle of lust before I can even finish offering to buy her a drink.”
“Alright, big shot, let’s see it.”
I return Eric’s challenging smirk. “And I was just thinking that this night would be a boring one. But it looks like I’ve got some entertainment.”
Eric laughs. “Man, how did you manage to fit that over-confident ego through the door?”
“Having money helps,” I reply sarcastically.
I smirk at him, running my fingers over my black tie and adjusting it so it lays flat against my chest. I’m still in my expensive suit, custom made and tailored just for my body. It hugs my muscled figure perfectly, accentuating broad shoulders and thick legs.
I start to climb to my feet, casting one more look at my friends. “I guess I’ll see you later, boys. You can think of me while you’re back at home doing whatever dull things you do. I’ll be doing some fun things of my own . . .”
The guys chuckle, making Eric pointedly rolls his eyes. “So when I make a lame joke, you all groan like I’ve just insulted the queen of England or something, but when he makes a lame joke you remember how to laugh?”
Money helps, I want to say again, but I’m too absorbed in my mission.
As if she can feel me watching her, the mystery woman straightens and turns just slightly so she can peer over her shoulder, her eyes finding me across the dark room.
Her gaze is electrifying, making my lungs freeze like blocks of concrete in my chest. Fire, more intense than any sip of liquor I’ve ever tasted, surges through my veins. I don’t know anything about this woman. I don’t know her name, her job, her eye color. Hell, I don’t even know if she speaks English. What I do know, however, is that I want her. I want her bad.
Bad enough to do anything to get her.
Chapter 2
Chloe
“Ouch,” the bartender chuckles, glancing at the defeated-faced stranger slinking down the bar before handing over my margarita. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“Nope,” I shrug, passing him a few bucks for the drink and then heading toward the table where my friends are waiting.
Stacy and Morgan both grin at me, scooting over to let me squeeze up against the edge of the small table. It’s packed in Club Thorn tonight, but my roommates just love going to the trendiest bars in town. If there’s a crowd, they have to go find out why. I’m pretty sure Morgan was able to score us access through her modeling buddies. Clubs are always eager to get those gorgeous girls inside their doors.