He stood by and watched as she spoke to a girl with dark tanned skin, who was dancing with a local. The club manager's son. Liam knew him well enough, but he couldn’t remember his name for the life of him. What he could remember was that he told most tourists that he was the club owner’s son. Two very different titles. Typically, the girls didn’t care or ask questions. He always got away with it.
The blond returned and smiled up to him. Her lips were shaped like a heart, which was something he could make use of later. He’d have to remember that line.
“My friend said she’ll join us soon,” she said, her voice barely audible. “They’re just going to say goodbye.”
Liam took her hand again, making sure to stare down the creep that had been all over her only moments before. He could tell that each person in the booth were on something. One of them was even grinding their teeth and jittering with the plastic cup in their hand.
“You want to just go, then? Did you tell her where it is?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He pulled her along, not wanting to waste any time. He’d already wasted enough time waiting for Sydney. He didn’t want his night to be ruined because of one girl. Besides, he already had another beautiful one waiting by his side, and it wasn’t even that difficult. Not that it was ever difficult for him.
He felt as though he was herding her. She allowed him to pull her along towards his private booth, where there was a waitress waiting to take their order. He closed the glass door behind him, enjoying how much softer the music was. He liked clubs but, unless he was really drunk, he always found the music too loud. He assumed the frustration just came with age. He was already over thirty so clubs had long ago lost their appeal.
He watched her adjust the fabric of her dress as she smiled at the waitress and took a seat in the black leather booth along the wall. Her eyes reflected the blue and green lights just outside the room.
“What do you want to drink?”
She seemed startled by his voice and glanced up to look into his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she held his gaze so strongly. Most people could barely make eye contact with him, let alone hold it. “Can I get rum and coke? I have some money for -”
“Don’t bother with the money,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’ve got it. Can we get a bottle of El Dorado Demerara rum and some coca cola? Two sipping glasses, too. Not sure if we’ll need the coke, but bring it up anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t we need the coca cola?”
“Because you’re about to drink a five hundred dollar bottle of rum. Typically, it’s a sipping rum. You don’t mix it.”
Her reaction to what he’d said caused him to laugh lightly. Money had a way of surprising people who weren’t used to it. He loved surprising people that way.
“Can’t we just order a regular bottle?”
He watched as the waitress walked away, her large curly hair bobbing as she left the little room. “Why order a regular bottle when I can easily just order the best they have?”
She seemed displeased with his answer, and he had no idea how to react. Was she really upset that he was spending money on her? No one hated having money spent on them, but she was reacting as though he’d stepped on her foot.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, trying to change the subject. “I didn’t introduce myself.”
Chapter Three
Violet
“No,” Violet said sharply, knowing that it might ruin the dream that had started when he had saved her from Pierre. “Don’t tell me.”
She smiled as he cocked his head at her. “You don’t want to know my name?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Let’s be honest. I’m leaving in, like, two days. Would it matter if I knew your name?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Just keep your name secret and I’ll keep mine secret. No need for introductions,” she said, realizing it sounded sexier than she thought it would. “Unless you really want to. I mean, I do appreciate you letting me in here and for helping me with the Pierre situation.”
He grinned at her. “No, it’s interesting. I like it.”
The door opened and their waitress returned with a silver tray in her hand. Violet saw the bottle gleaming on top, along with a bottle of coca cola. One didn’t really go with the other, but it was fine. She didn’t really feel like sipping pure rum. Even the glasses were actual glass, which was a far cry from the plastic cups they’d had at the VIP booth. She turned to look at the handsome stranger she’d met. How much money did he have? He was treated even better than those who were acquainted with the owner.
The waitress placed the tray down onto the black table in front of them. “I pour for you?”
“Yes, thank you. Hold the soda, please,” he said, and shifted his eyes to Violet. “I want her to try it without it first.”
After the tequila shot, the last thing Violet wanted was more hard alcohol being poured down her throat. She’d already imagined the exaggerated stinging sweetness of the rum that would come with the first sip and scowled at the thought. “I’m not sure I want it without the soda. Sounds like it’ll be awful.”
The waitress poured each drink slowly, creating a show of it. Money seemed to bring entertainment, too. The waitress twisted her wrist and set down the bottle onto the tray before holding out each filled glass. Violet stared at the contents before making a move. She exhaled deeply and took the glass, the dark rum reflecting the green strobe lights flowing throughout the club.
“Just one sip,” he told her, shifting closer to where she was sitting on the booth. “If you don’t like it, I’ll have her add the coca cola.”
Violet brought her eyes to his and knew she wouldn’t say no. How could she, when this gorgeous specimen was asking her so politely? She could feel her heart racing in her chest and she wasn’t sure if it was in anticipation for the strong alcohol or the fact that he was sitting so close to her. “Fine. Just one.”
He lowered his eyes and watched her take a sip. Her hand was shaking, feeling the pressure of having to like the alcohol. It was, after all, a five hundred dollar bottle. The taste stung at first and she found herself wincing. She swallowed and was surprised when there wasn’t the burning sensation that typically came with alcohol. She found it to be even a little smooth afterwards.
“So? What do you think?”
She breathed out through her mouth and tried to ignore the waitress, who was busy waiting for her reaction. “It’s actually pretty good,” Violet said, and chuckled to herself. “Could use some ice though. Too much of this and I’ll need Donovan to carry me home.”
“Who’s Donovan?”
She realized that anyone that hadn’t met Donovan would think that she was a guy. Her name naturally sounded more masculine. “My friend, who was dancing with that guy at the booth.”
“Oh,” he said, as though he was relieved. “That’s who it is. Do you think she’ll head over here?”
“Yeah, because I asked her. I also told her it was quieter here.”
Violet fell silent as he stared at her, taking another sip from his glass. She took her eyes from him, forcing herself to look away. It was unlikely that Donovan would have agreed to come to the VIP room with them and not show up. Violet knew that Donovan, although flighty, was a decent friend who wouldn’t leave her alone with a complete stranger. Even if he was dapper and handsome. She grabbed the fabric of her dress as she brought the glass to her lips. There was that initial stinging sweet bite of the rum and then the, now familiar, smooth aftertaste that made her chest feel as though it was on fire.