At midnight, I show up at the club where the party is taking place. Katy’s apparently turning twenty-one and wants to celebrate at a new trendy place in town with the worst possible music. Or maybe I’m just too old for this shit.
Vincent and I enter and find the long table in the corner reserved for Katy and her friends, some of whom look like they must have used fake IDs to get in because no way they’re of age, and if they are, they obviously can’t hold their liquor.
I scan the dance floor for Emilia and finally spot her across the room at the bar. She’s wearing a tight-fitting little black dress that comes up to the nape of her neck—and I know why now—and a pair of high-heeled sandals. Her hair’s in that tight bun, although wisps have fallen out around her face. I wonder if she’s already been dancing. She takes her drink from the bartender and smiles politely at the idiot who’s paying for it. Immediately, my hackles go up.
“Wait outside. We won’t be here long,” I tell Vincent before making my way to the bar.
She doesn’t see me right at first and leans her back against the bar, watching the dancers. The man beside her has his eyes trained on her. My hands fist at the look in his eyes. She’s all but ignoring him. Until she spots me, that is. Surprise animates her features, and I give her a tight grin. It feels more like a baring of teeth. I reach the bar and, without hesitation, step between them.
“Emilia.”
“Giovanni.”
“Um, excuse us,” the idiot says in his too-high voice.
I look down at him. “What do you want?” My lips are a hard line.
Emilia throws her drink back and leans over me. “You know what? I changed my mind. Let’s dance. It’s John, right?”
“James, actually,” the idiot corrects. I order a whiskey, fold my arms across my chest, and lean against the bar as I let them walk onto the dance floor.
I watch her move, watch her pick up the beat and raise her arms over her head and start to dance. It’s seductive, her dance. In time with the music, but something so different than every other person around her. I wonder if she’s aware how tempting she is.
She only glances at me, but I’ve got my eyes locked on her. Does that fool think for a second he’s even in her fucking league? I’d kill him if it weren’t for how pathetic he is.
But when he puts his hands on her hips, it takes all I have not to crush the cheap glass in my hand as I swallow the whiskey and stalk onto the floor. People part to let me through—they must feel the menace coming off me. I don’t take my eyes off her for a second. When I reach them, her glance is apprehensive. She knows I’m pissed, but she’s testing me.
“Get lost,” I tell the idiot, shoving my glass at him as I push him out of the way. He takes the glass because he has no choice. “We’re leaving.” I take her arm.
“We aren’t doing anything,” she says, planting her heels into the floor.
I stop for a moment, turn to her, and raise my eyebrows.
“I’m here for a party. I want to stay.”
“That’s too bad.” I turn and take two steps.
“Stop. Let me go.”
I stop and face her again. “I’m going to give you one chance to walk out of here with your dignity intact, but we are leaving. Now.” With that warning, I resume my walk. This time when she resists, I stop. “I warned you.” I give a shake of my head and then, before she can reply, I wrap my arm around the backs of her thighs and toss her over my shoulder. Someone gasps, and everyone is staring at us now. I know how caveman-like this is but don’t give a single fuck.
Emilia is struggling, pounding against my back, but I just keep moving, holding back when what I really want to do is smack that ass of hers until she obeys. This woman gets under my fucking skin. She provokes me like no other.
“My purse is still in there!”
Once we’re out in the parking lot, I set her on her feet beside the car.
“I’m sure Katy will bring it to work for you.” I point to the open car door.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I told you that you were being picked up.”
“No, that’s not how things work. You don’t tell me. You ask me and when I decline, you respect my wish to never see you again.”
I chuckle at the idea. Who does she think she’s dealing with? “Not in my world, Sunshine.”
“Why did you call me that?”
“Because you’re like a ray of fucking sunshine,” I deadpan. “Now get your ass in the car.”