Page 19

ELLIETTE

I hadn’t had a lot to drink—just two lemon drop martinis. Or maybe it was three? Anyway, I was feeling high and loose.

Whether that was the alcohol, the anonymity of the dance floor, or just the giddy elation of being out with my girls, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

My LBD wasn’t as showy as Jen’s silver sequins or plunging neckline that was just barely avoiding a wardrobe malfunction. And I didn’t have Kiera’s wild red mane—always a natural show-stopper. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t getting my fair share of male attention.

Maybe that had to do with my sexy new purchase, and I didn’t mean the dress.

The women in the videos had inspired me to go lingerie shopping for the very first time, and even though no one could see what was under my clothes, I knew what was there.

The silk slid against my skin, making me feel crazy sexy. And I liked it.

Suffice it to say, the night was definitely breathing life back into my wounded self-esteem. In fact, one of the men we’d met at the bar was dancing right up close behind me. His tall frame pressed against my back, and he’d wrapped one arm around my middle, holding me tight.

Normally, I would have insisted on a larger bubble of personal space, but he was nice, and the alcohol made it seem like a playful choreography, both of us laughing, losing ourselves in the music.

It was all quite tame compared to the videos I’d watched the night before.

And honestly, it was just nice to be seen.

The other girls had their partners, too, though Kiera had stopped moving, and her wide eyes seemed to be focused on something behind me.

I leaned forward, pulling out of my partner’s grasp. “You okay, Kiera?”

“Hot guy alert!” she yelled, putting her lips close to my ear. “Twelve o’clock.”

My dance partner pulled me tighter against himself. I didn’t mind. It didn’t mean anything, and the song was almost over. Besides, if there was ever any real trouble, my girls had my back.

But then my partner’s presence was ripped away, and I felt the vacuum of his absence as cool air hit the backs of my thighs. I stumbled from the loss of his steadying arm, and a thought blinked across my mind that maybe I’d had more to drink than I’d realized.

A large hand wrapped around my wrist, and I looked down at it. Confused.

“Hey!” Jen said, moving in close. “Let her go.”

“Hi, Jen,” said a deep, rumbling voice. “Pari. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Parvati said. “Nice to see you again, Lukas.”

I looked up to see Lukas glowering down at me. His icy blue eyes blazed in the darkness .

I yanked my hand free.

Lukas jerked his chin toward the end of the bar, and I turned in the direction he indicated, getting a partial glimpse of my brother. Evan seemed to be engaged in deep conversation with a group of people.

I rose up on my toes, putting my mouth close to Lukas’s ear and yelling to get over the music, “Is something wrong with Evan? Does he need me, or something?”

“What?” Lukas asked, his eyebrows coming together. “No.”

I lowered my heels. “Then what’s the problem?”

He gave his head an incredulous shake. “Do you really want to dance like that where your brother can see you?”

I glanced in Evan’s direction again, then back at Lukas. “It doesn’t seem like he cares, and I can dance however I want. This is a nightclub.”

“What’s going on?” Amy asked, tipping her head way back to look up at Lukas. She was the shortest among us.

“Yeah,” Kiera said, folding her arms.

“No idea,” I responded with an accusatory tone directed at Lukas. “But I don’t think Lukas likes the way I dance.”

“I don’t care how you dance,” he said, “but you were twerking with a stranger.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he looked like he wanted to claw them back, then swallow them down with a chaser of self-loathing.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Lukas , but that sounds like you do care, and that you’re being judgmental. And by the way, I was not twerking with a stranger.”

Lukas arched an eyebrow. “You know that guy?”

“No, I mean I wasn’t twerking.”

Lukas rolled his eyes and turned partially away, giving me a glimpse of my former dance partner, who was now sulking by the bar.

“You’re lucky your brother didn’t see you,” Lukas said. “He’d be dragging you out of here so fast…”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Well, he should.”

“This isn’t the Stone Age, Lukas.”

The song ended, mixing smoothly into a more modern beat, and though my friends started dancing again, they did it warily, and their eyes never left me. See? We totally had each other’s backs.

“Forget it.” Lukas started to walk away, but I grabbed him before he got too far. Obviously, he was stronger than me and could have easily torn himself free, but—miraculously—he let me drag him toward a quieter area of the club, or at least to a spot that wasn’t in direct line of the speakers.

“What’s this really about?” I demanded.

“You could…” He exhaled and glanced around the club, looking somehow disoriented. “Find trouble dancing with a stranger like that.”

“So, that’s it,” I said, softening a bit as I took in the odd vulnerability in his expression. “You were worried about me.”

“What else would I be?” His gaze slid down my neck to my shoulder.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” My brain felt a little fuzzy, and this conversation was starting to feel like a dream. Or maybe one of those out-of-body experiences?

Lukas raised his hand slowly between us, and I froze. His eyes shot back to mine, and I felt his hand at my shoulder.

I looked down at the spot where he touched me and saw that the shoulder of my LBD had slipped, exposing my black bra strap.

He gently readjusted my dress, then said, “You should tell your friends to sit with us in the VIP section.”

“We came to dance,” I reminded him, doing my best to ignore the tingling sensation that zinged down my spine.

“They might need a break,” he said, “and I think Bjorn would like to be introduced to Pari.”

I shook my head vehemently, which didn’t help my balance. “It won't work.”

Lukas reached out and held my elbow. “Because he’s a bear?”

“No. Because he’s a hockey player, and Pari's parents are insistent she marry a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer. And preferably one whose parents are Bengali. Professional athletes are out of the question.”

Lukas grunted in reproach.

“Besides,” I said, giving my hand a flippant wave. “Pari’s too much of a grown-up.”

“Then, by the sounds of it, she and Bjorn would make a perfect match. Bjorn’s the oldest on the team. Everyone calls him ‘ old man .’”

“Still won’t work.” I grew up next door to Parvati’s family and knew how immovable they could be. “But who’s all with you?”

I glanced up at the VIP section. It was too dark for me to make out any faces.

“Bjorn, Murph, Rafe?—”

“Rafe MacConall’s sitting up there?” I twisted back toward the dance floor to see if I could spot Amy. She might want to take Lukas up on his offer to meet the freight train of a team captain.

“Yeah, why?” Lukas asked .

I looked back at Lukas. “Is his girlfriend with him tonight?”

Lukas tipped his head to the side. “Rafe has a girlfriend?”

“The swimsuit model.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “I don’t know if he’d call her a girlfriend .”

“What would he call her?”

Lukas shrugged. “A woman he’s seeing?”

A female patron suddenly emerged from the crowd, moving so fast she bumped into me, knocking me out of the way so she could position herself in front of Lukas.

“Hey…” she cooed. “Are you Lukas Bakken?”

I collided with another body in the crowd and staggered as my ankle twisted under me.

Lukas’s hand shot out, and he caught me before I fell. Then he pulled me to his side, holding me so tightly we made physical contact from my rib cage all the way down to my ankle.

The intense heat from his body was dizzying, and my pulse surged in response, bringing with it a sudden rush of adrenaline.

The woman kept talking. “I mean, of course you’re Lukas Bakken! I’d know you anywhere. Even in the dark. I’m your biggest fan. I was wondering?—”

“Are you fucking nuts?!” Lukas boomed, and his pale blue eyes glowed in the dark, hinting at the berserker wolf beneath the surface.

The woman blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You ran right into her,” Lukas declared, tightening his hold around my shoulders.

“Oh!” The woman’s eyes widened, as if noticing me for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I must not have seen you.”

Story of my life. It was Le Coq Gourmand all over again. Heat bloomed in my face, and I would have quickly excused myself from the scene if Lukas had allowed it.

Unfortunately, because he didn’t allow it, I was forced to say something. “It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m all right.”

“It’s not okay,” Lukas growled. Then to the woman he asked, “How could you not see the most beautiful woman in the club?”

“What?” She sounded startled, which was fair. I was just as confused.

“Apologize,” he demanded.

“Lukas,” I said, now as embarrassed for the woman as I was for myself. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t respond, and all I can say is that I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of his icy glare.

“I… I’m so, so sorry,” the other woman said. “I just… I just got excited to see him. I wasn’t paying attention.” She covered her face and scurried away into the crowd.

“ Lukas ,” I hissed, twisting out of his hold. “Was that absolutely necessary?”

“Yes,” Lukas said, now turning his anger on me.

For whatever reason, I wasn’t afraid or even a little bit nervous. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe embarrassment had fractured my sense of self-preservation. Regardless, I held his gaze and raised my empty glass.

“I need another drink before the next person plows me over.”

“ Elli. ” He said my name like a warning, and residual fury flared in his eyes.

I shook my glass, making the ice rattle in deliberate provocation.

He took my glass from my hand, set it on a waitress’s tray as she passed by, then grabbed me by the elbow .