Amongst the sea of oversexed women, she practically glowed with a radiance that seemed to outshine every single person there. It was as though she had her own spotlight gleaming down over her, following her as she cut through the throng of people in the direction of the bar. In the semi darkness, her pale dress radiated an almost purple. Her tied back hair shone a soft gold. Strands had escaped to frame her flushed face and the anxious look in her eyes.
For several confounded moments, Killian could only stand there and stare with open mouth wonder. His brain couldn’t seem to comprehend whether or not she was an illusion conjured by the state of his unstoppable need for her or if she had somehow found him. Both filled him with a certain level of dread and excitement. He watched as she slid into a corner and looked out over the floor. He waited to make sure she wouldn’t move from the spot before making his way out of the office and down the stairs. Marco glanced up from the bottom. He straightened when Killian drew closer.
“It’s fine,” he told the other man as Killian moved past him towards the front of the bar.
He spotted Frank making his way back, saw the confusion on the man’s face as he caught sight of Killian. But he didn’t try to stop him, nor did he—as Killian expected—let him go alone.
She was exactly where she’d been when he’d first seen her from the office, tucked alongside the bar with her purse hugged to her midsection and her eyes moving rapidly over the crowd. Killian paused to study her, taking note of the fine lines knotting the place between her eyebrows and the restless gnawing of her teeth along her lip. It was clear she was waiting for someone and he couldn’t help wondering if it was him. Had she somehow found him? More importantly, what did she want? She had already made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing from him, not him, not his money. He wasn’t sure what else he could possibly offer. Unless she was there for another night of intense, mind blowing sex. He normally didn’t bed the same woman twice, but he knew he wouldn’t say no to her if that was what she wanted. Truth be told, he couldn’t stop wanting her either.
A man broke away from the dancers and meandered his way over to where Juliette stood. His approach wasn’t expected. Juliette tensed and narrowed her eyes as he approached. Her grip on her purse tightened as the man stopped mere feet from her. He said something that had her shaking her head and backing up a step. He followed her retreat and Killian stiffened. Sharp blades of anger crawled along his spine. It curled his fingers into fists at his sides and tensed the lines of his shoulders in a sensation Killian hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.
The man continued to grin as Juliette unsuccessfully tried to sidestep around him. She said something and he shrugged, slow and deliberate. He moved into her space again and Juliette lifted one hand against his chest, holding him back even as he ignored it. He captured her wrist and used it to jerk her into his arms. His hands went around her, gliding and stroking her back, sides and arms while he swayed his body against hers in grinding rotations. Juliette twisted and finally shoved him back. She said something and, even from the distance, Killian recognized the heat. The anger. Not many women could pull off sexy when they were pissed. The way her eyes lit up when she was furious was the same fire that shone in her eyes when she was aroused. It was hot and intense and it fueled him with a powerful surge of adrenaline he knew could either be really good or really bad.
He reached for her again. This time with an insistence that had even Frank stiffening at Killian’s back. He reached for Juliette and was met with a resounding crack of her palm across his cheek. The snap echoed over the music, drawing the attention of a few dancers, but no one made any move to intervene. No doubt in their minds, the two were having a lover’s quarrel.
Killian knew better.
He charged forward before the guy had a chance to react. He got there just as one arm was being drawn back in retaliation. His hand closed around the wrist and, in the same momentum, dragged the arm back and around. He twisted it against the man’s back and shoved him forward, slamming him into the corner of the bar. Taken by surprise, he had no chance to react before Killian’s free hand had grabbed hold of the back of his head and slammed his face into the table.
“I really hope you weren’t about to do what I think you were,” he hissed low into the man’s ear. “Otherwise, I might need to teach you a lesson about raising your hand to a lady.”
Arm restrained, face mashed against the table, the man had no room to struggle, but he gasped.
“You’re going to leave,” Killian went on. “And if I see you again, no one will ever find your body.” And he meant it.
Not bothering to wait for a response, he shoved the man. A few dancers nearby scuttled back as he hit the floor at their feet. No one seemed particularly interested by the scene as they shifted further away and resumed their evening. Frank grabbed hold of the guy struggling to his feet and dragged him out of sight.
Killian turned to Juliette. She stood staring at him with a look of wide eyed confusion.
“Killian?” She glanced around them as though something in their surroundings might explain what was happening. Finding nothing, her gaze returned to him. “What are you doing here?”
It was clear that she hadn’t come looking for him, but it did make him all the more curious.
“Friend of yours?” he asked instead, gesturing with his head towards the direction the asshole.
Juliette shook her head. “I don’t know him.” She licked her lips and the plump curves glistened tauntingly under the light. “What are you doing here?”
He almost laughed at the question. “I own it.”
“You own…?” She trailed off as her gaze lowered to the piece of paper in her hand. She studied it a long moment before something seemed to click and her shoulders slumped as though she were afraid of that. “You own the place,” she mumbled with a sad sort of acceptance.
“Aye.” He studied her, trying to pinpoint what exactly she was thinking, but the lights and shadows kept shifting on and off the lines of her face, distracting him. “Come upstairs.”
He didn’t wait to see if she would follow. He turned and started back the way he’d come. It was only at the stairs that he paused and waited for her to catch up. Marco stepped aside as Killian offered Juliette his hand. At the top, he held the door open and waited for her to pass through first before following and shutting them in.
She groaned the moment the door sealed shut and silence descended. “That’s so much better.”
“Don’t like music?”
He moved to the bar, needing a drink. Or six.
“I love music,” she answered, stepping up to the glass wall and peering down. “I just don’t want to be deafened by it.”
“Then a nightclub is clearly not the right place to be,” he deduced, reaching for a bottle of whiskey.
Her chuckle made him glance up.
“Maybe,” she mused.
Drink forgotten, he found his gaze tracing the soft curves of her back, the womanly shape of her hips, the long, slender lines of her legs. Even scooped up, her hair reached the small of her back. It seemed darker in the dimness of the club. Then, as though sensing his eyes on her, she turned her head over her shoulder. Her brown eyes met his from across the room and held. The innocent gesture pierced through him with an intensity that shook him straight to the core.
“It’s beautiful up here,” she said quietly. “The lights look great off all the glass.”
He fixed his focus on pouring the drink. “Who are you here to meet?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice even. “A lover?”
The dry look she sent him was unnecessary. He knew what a stupid question that had been before he’d even spoken; of course there was no lover.
“There is no lover,” she answered anyway.
“Boyfriend then,” he corrected.
She shook her head. “No boyfriend.” She faced forward. “Last night would not have happened if there was one.”