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Who the hell was this man, and why was he interrupting one of the worst nights of my life?
“Who the fuck are you?” Sam demanded, sizing up the guy. Sam’s height had always been a turn-on. I liked that I could wear the highest heels and never fear I’d tower over him, but this guy?
He put Sam to shame—in height, muscles, and stature.
“That’s not important,” the man growled, still looking at me.
My knees resembled churned butter again.
It wasn’t fair that a man who looked like that could also sound as deep as ominous thunder.
I froze as the man’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
His smoky stare darkened before he wrenched his shoulders back, balled his hands, and shifted his unnerving focus to Sam.
For a moment, I didn’t know if he meant to clock my ex with a fist or pretzel a barstool over his head. Violence poured off him, prickling my skin with ice.
Sighing dramatically, Sam shifted and snatched up the white envelope currently soaking up cheap booze on the bar. “What’s this?” Wiping away most of the liquor, he tried to give it back. “Take it and go, asshole. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”
The man merely crossed his arms, his chest as hard and as impenetrable as a brick wall. “Oh, I heard. Believe me. I heard everything.”
My heart cowered. “Everything?” Chagrin coated me. I suddenly, stupidly cared that this devastatingly handsome stranger had heard my ex compare my sexual prowess to that of a blow-up doll.
Great.
Wonderful.
My pride was damaged enough without a demigod looking at me as if I was the worst person alive in bed.
I crossed my arms, mimicking the man, doing my best to gather my flagging bravery. “If you heard everything, then you know we don’t want company. Just go and—”
“Open it. The envelope.” Not paying any attention to me, the man glowered at Sam. “Now.”
Sam’s forehead furrowed with annoyance, and for a second, I feared he’d throw the envelope at the arrogant guy’s head, but then he squeezed it, hefted it, and with curiosity flickering in his stare, carefully unstuck the seal and peered inside.
His mouth fell open. “Oh shit, it’s money.”
“Lots of money,” the man muttered, his biceps flexing beneath his dark suit, seeming to strain at the seams even in the low light of the club. “Ten thousand euros, to be exact.”
Sam sucked in a breath. “And you’re casually throwing ten G around, why?”
“To get your attention.”
Sam cracked a smile. “Well, you certainly got it.” He slapped the soggy envelope against his other palm. His smile fell. “Wait…why? You’re not some creep trying to proposition me, are you? I know we’re in France, and this is the city of love and all, and I just had a fairly public breakup, but I’m not gonna suck your dick for ten grand, man.”
I stiffened, waiting for the stunning stranger to react.
He didn’t.
He stayed tall and stoic, his glower never leaving Sam’s face.
Sam shifted uncomfortably, placing the money back on the bar. His gaze met mine, and I already knew what his next move would be. It was what he’d always done: bolt.
Before he could run from a situation he couldn’t control, I smiled brightly. “Oh, come on, Sam. You’re single now. And didn’t you just finish telling me how bad I am at pleasuring you? Don’t you want someone who could show you a night of raw, primordial passion?” I pointed at the demigod. “I’m sure he could show you a few tricks. After all, it’s not just you who was disappointed in all our years together—”
“Why, you little bitch!” Sam launched himself at me. His fingers outstretched, his face contorted with hate.
I ducked but wasn’t fast enough. His hand latched around my throat and—
