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Then Darien turned his cool green eyes toward my best friend.

And my smile drifted away.

- CHAPTER THREE -

SCOTCH

Fifteen minutes had passed since Gina had tugged Darien into the champagne room.

It wasn’t so much aroomas a curtained-off booth on the upper level. If you looked straight up in the club, past the metal stripper pole extending from the bottom stage to the ceiling, you could kind of see it through the railings. Kind of.

I stared intently, wishing I’d suddenly gain X-ray vision so I could know what was going on in there.

“Are you okay?” Costello asked.

I gave him a quick glance. The couches had been abandoned; the men were all getting lap dances in various alcoves. Thorne was sitting at the bar; I saw him with his head close to a big, beefy member of the Deep Shots—Rush, I think someone had called him.

“Why aren’t you over there?” I asked, nodding at his brother. “Looks like important business talk.”What is Darien doing with Gina?

Costello didn’t turn away from me. That had me fidgeting, and if I wasn’t so worried about my friend, I would have enjoyed it. “I’m not missing anything,” he said.

My nod was slow. “So the important stuff isn’t being discussed yet.” His shoulders squared at my observation. “Celebrate first, then hash out the details later. Smart.”

Costello let his attention roam up to the champagne room above. “You’re worried about her.”

“No,” I said on impulse. “Okay. Slightly. I just get a bad feeling from that guy.”

He folded his arms; I saw them bulge through his leather jacket, the front of his shirt straining where the parted zipper didn’t hide it. Besides the scar that ran from his right eyebrow to his nose, was there anything imperfect about this man? “The guy has a bad attitude, that doesn’t make him a threat.”

“It’s just a feeling.” I rocked in place; my eyeballs were starting to throb like my sore legs. “Maybe you could assure me that I have no reason to worry about Darien.”

“I don’t know that man.”

My stomach shrank. “But you invited him here.” I waved at the couches, at the men getting lap dances in the corners. “Him and the other Deep Shots. I can’t imagine your family would do that withoutknowingwho they were letting in!”

He was moving his head from side to side. “You’re presuming a lot about what me or my family has planned.”

I wasn’t sure if I should reveal the obvious, that there was clearly some kind of truce or working relationship forming between the Badds and the Deep Shots. I wasn’t stupid, but letting Costello think otherwise was probably better.

But I did need to know one thing. Carefully, I asked, “You really don’t know anything about Darien?”

His attention flashed upstairs. “Tonight was the first time I’d met him.”

My mind became a laser, cutting with pinpoint accuracy until all I could think about was how someone with an aura of danger was a mystery to meandCostello Badd.

Darien was an asshole.

What if he was something even worse?

“What are you doing?” Costello asked behind me. I didn’t answer. I kept going, climbing the stairs to the upper level one by one and finally two by two as the landing grew near. Something was wrong and Iknew it.

And if not,I rationalized through my hot anxiety,I’ll just pretend I was going to ask if they needed some drinks in there.Yeah. That was a good lie that didn’t make me seem like a crazy person.

Marching toward the thick red curtain of the champagne room, I noted that the security guard who was supposed to keep an eye on this area wasn’t around. It wasn’t uncommon for customers to pay extra for the illusion of privacy.

I ran the rest of the way to the room. “Gina?” I asked, tapping the booth’s wooden side. No answer. Straining to listen, I heard rustling, then the heavy breathing of two people—no. Just one person. The other noise was the pitiful wheeze of someone struggling for air.

Throwing the curtain back, I stared down at a sight that made my insides twist like a sponge being drained of water. Darien was sitting on the large stuffed couch. His shirt was open; all his muscles writhed as they worked to keep Gina trapped on his lap with her face between his thighs.