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“Whew!” DJ Twist came back on stage and made a show of mopping his brow. “That was hot!”

Lexie came down the stage on the opposite side of where Nick was, almost tripping on the uneven flooring. The lewd man had managed to get to her before Nic did and he swore, making his way across the whole length of the stage. He saw Lexie by a corner trying to shrug off a pale, meaty hand digging into her arm.

“Bugger off, mate” Nic growled to the inebriated executive-looking type, glancing pointedly at his hand still manacled to Lexie. “The lady is with me.”

“I saw her first,” Executive Type growled back, eyeing Nic’s much taller and bigger frame warily but refusing to back down.

“I said she’s with me,” Nic thundered, nostrils flaring as he shoved the man backwards in an attempt to pry him off Lexie. The man was tenacious as a barnacle. Nic’s shoving caught him off balance and he started tipping backwards, bringing Lexie, who gave a small yelp of surprise, down with him.

Nic helped her up. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she replied, a bit out of breath but still retaining her poise. “Yes. Thank you.”

Her cat eyes threatened to knock the wits out him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said and cupped her by the elbow.

But it seemed Executive Type had other ideas. Nic felt a tap on his shoulder and when he swung around, only his very fast reflexes saved him from getting jabbed in the face.

“Cabeza de pija!” Nick cursed, dropping Lexie’s elbow and lunging at Executive Type, flattening him to the floor in the blink of an eye. Executive Type wasn’t giving up without a fight. Grappling on the floor, they managed to pull out some cables that were connected to the spotlight and plunged the stage into darkness.

“What the fuck?” Current wannabe singer on stage said over the microphone, stopping mid-song. Nic heard Lexie let out an unladylike shriek. He risked a quick glance and saw that she was walloping Executive Type with her bag whenever the prick managed to come out on top as they were rolling and tussling on the floor.

“Oww!” Executive Type yelled when she managed to land a solid one on his head.

The commotion drew the attention of the bouncers, who quickly separated the adversaries.

“Knock it off,” the massive bouncer told Executive Type, who was struggling to break free. The bouncer had him by the collar, but slippery as an eel, he broke off and quickly ran to a fire exit.

“Lexie!”A woman came running to the scene of the crime, trailed by a dorky looking young man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Blair,” Lexie replied, tugging on her dress, which had ridden up higher on her shapely thighs. Her legs were bare.

“Goodness! You sure know how to make up for years of lost excitement.” He presumed the excitable new arrival Blair was the supportive, hollering woman from the crowd.

“Nothing to see. Nothing to see. Carry on.” The other bouncer, the smaller one, interrupted the reunion    . “He says you’re with him, miss?” The muscle man turned to Lexie.

Nic paused in the act of wiping what he suspected was blood from the side of his mouth with a napkin. Their eyes locked.

“Yes, I’m with him,” she replied.

A rush of relief, staggering in its intensity, flooded Nic with her words. And then came the sense of rightness of it all. She was his.

“Uh-uh. Not so fast.”

Nic’s head swiveled to the one called Blair. He noticed the fake bob. What was with the atrocious hairpieces and these two? He decided to be charming to Lexie’s friend.

“Hello. I’m Nic.” He extended a bruised hand for Blair to shake. Nothing felt broken. Gracias a Dios. Rupert would lose it if he couldn’t play at the finals match.

“I’m her cousin, Bl−oh my fucking God.” Blair’s eyes widened as she got a good look at his face for the first time. “Um, Lexie,” she said, her fascinated stare never leaving him. “You do know who he is, right?”

Nic’s eyes flicked back to Lexie, who was now watching him with a puzzled frown, as if trying to place him. “He says he’s Nic. Do you two know each other?”

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