Eddie’s eyes narrowed as fury washed over his features. His cheeks grew red and mottled as he advanced, pushing farther into her space until she could feel and smell his hot, fetid breath blasting her face. Menace burned brightly in his eyes, and she knew it was about to get even uglier.
“You little bitch!”
Drake Donovan saw her the moment she walked into the club. He was sitting high above the dance floor in his private quarters, several surveillance monitors strategically placed for easy viewing of every inch of the club. He didn’t just own the club and assume a hands-off approach. He owned many businesses and he had a tight leash on them all. And he closely monitored the goings-on any time he was here.
He quickly zoomed in on the curvy blonde who warily entered the front bar, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. A blistering curse blew from his lips even as he continued to track her every movement.
Someone was going to lose their goddamn job over this.
Drake had a strict policy about who was and wasn’t allowed in his club. And innocent, naïve-looking girls like the one who’d just walked hesitantly into his bar without a man at her side to protect her was definitely not someone who should have ever gotten by his bouncer.
Fucking Anthony knew better. What the hell was he thinking, allowing her in? Heads were going to roll. Just as soon as he got her the hell out of his club with the understanding that she was never allowed back.
And yet he hesitated because she fascinated him. There was something about her, and he couldn’t put his finger on what. He watched intently as she hesitantly made her way to the bar, where she was treated to a wink and a smile from Drew, his bartender. A man he suddenly had the strongest urge to fire for no other reason than that he was flirting with the blue-eyed enchantress. Drew flirted with all the females. So why was Drake so up in arms over his harmless flirtation with a woman who would never be back in Drake’s club, for fuck’s sake?
He let out his breath in a long exhale when she turned away from the bar and faced in the direction of the dance floor. He was treated to an up-close, full-frontal view, and it was spectacular.
Everything about her did it for him, and yet she was the complete antithesis of the women he usually fucked. And judging by the many appreciative male gazes and the decidedly unfriendly looks from the women, he wasn’t wrong in his assessment of her.
Hell, she’d end up causing a damn riot if he didn’t get her the hell out and soon.
A woman looking like her in a club like his? Those big wide eyes, a curvy body in a dress that left nothing to the imagination. A woman who screamed innocence and inspired a man to want to get her into bed as fast as he could so he could teach her how to please him.
Yeah, she was serious trouble with a capital T. But all he could think about was getting her out of the fucking club and into somewhere private before some other guy made a play for her.
He was so absorbed in his perusal of the unknown woman that he didn’t notice the guy with a skank practically shrink-wrapped to his side blazing a trail directly toward her.
He saw the woman’s head come up and he zoomed in with the push of a button, focusing the camera directly on her. There was surprise in her eyes, but something else too. Something Drake didn’t like at all.
Fear.
The man spoke to her, and it was obvious that what he was saying wasn’t at all nice or complimentary. The woman’s face went white, and she teetered like her legs were about to go out from beneath her. And the man’s fingers were wrapped around her arm.
He saw her wince in pain just as he also saw the man tighten his hold on her. Then the man advanced even farther, getting into her space.
Drew, the bartender, was leaping over the bar just as Drake hit the button for Maddox. Goddamn it. Goddamn it!
Maddox was there in three seconds.
Drake pointed at the monitor. “Go get her. Now,” he barked. “Bring her to me and make damn sure the man accosting her is thrown out, taught a lesson and never allowed back into any of my establishments.”
Maddox’s eyes reflected shock, and Drake knew why. No one but his most trusted men were ever allowed in Drake’s private quarters. And certainly no women had ever been here. But it was a testament to Maddox’s training and loyalty. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask questions. He merely nodded and was gone in a flash. On the monitor, Drake saw Drew hold up, a pissed-off look on his face, his brow creased in annoyance. Maddox must have radioed him and told him that the man was his.