The new voice was deep, rough as a rockslide, and conversational. The effect it had on the males surrounding her was electric. Hands that had strayed towards more undesirable locales jerked away as if slapped, their spines snapping straight as they jumped away from her and turned towards the new male in a move that almost seemed choreographed.
Finding herself freed, Quinn had to grab hold of the table and haul her weight back onto the spindly heels of her boots. There was nothing graceful about the save. All flailing arms and knocked elbows, she felt her cheeks warm as the male before her watched on.
An Alpha, Quinn surmised in a glance. Muscles and broad shoulders, head far above the Beta males, and arrogant as all get out. Any thanks she might have felt soured in her stomach when she saw the flat dullness of boredom on his face.
Mumbling the appropriate words, Quinn sidestepped the looming bulk of him and walked away with a confident purpose she didn’t at all feel. Her back had been tangled up into a thousand knots and each step sent a jagged pulse of brilliant magenta pain searing through her brain.
Clara’s heart-shaped face filled her field of focus, worried brown eyes hiding behind a smile sweet enough to be spun sugar.
“You okay? Do you want me to get Jackson,” Clara asked in a faint whisper as she leaned in and sent a soft, warm hand down Quinn’s cold arm. From an observer’s standpoint, it no doubt looked sexual.
“I’m fine, I just need to go and fix my makeup.” It surprised Quinn that her voice came out as steady as it did, patting herself on the back for remaining calm as the long muscles of her back screamed.
Clara pulled back, tucking her lower lip between her teeth in a sensual pout that made Quinn feel uncomfortable. She’d already had one aborted assault, but if they thought she and Clara had some sort of thing going on, it would be endless comments and jibes about two women and playing out the basest male fantasies.
“C’mon, stop that. I’ll be back in a minute,” Quinn whisper-hissed and slipped around Clara towards the doors. As soon as the heavy oak shut, closing the boisterous activity inside and leaving her in the calm of the corridor, Quinn felt like she could breathe.
“Where’s your tray, kid?”
Fuck. She’d forgotten about Jackson prowling around.
“I have to run to the bathroom for a sec.” She’d intended to make it a statement, but her voice betrayed her, rising in question.
“Okay, just make it quick. It’s down there, past the fourth door on the left.”
Quinn was already heading to where he pointed, halfway down the hall before giving a brisk nod in recognition of his order. Hurrying into the echoing room, Quinn drew a ragged breath and bent over the line of sinks to press her hot cheek against the cold marble.
Taking the boots with the punishing heels off wasn’t an option. She concentrated on working the shrill ache from her back. With careful twitches and mincing steps, she stretched out her arms and stepped back from the counter so she could flex and relax the muscles. Gritting her teeth against a whimper as the undeniable flare of brilliant purple pain from a bad bruise forming flashed across mid back, she clung to the cold slab for support.
Heavy warmth slid up the bare line of her back. The scream of surprise was more of a pathetic squeak. If a hand hadn’t pressed her flat to the long counter, she would have done herself more injury. Pale eyes wide and rolling, she tried to glimpse who was behind her in the expansive mirror.
“You’ll have a mark here.” A thick, callused finger traced along the width of her back just under the shoulder where she had fallen against the table. It was the Alpha, his voice just as indifferent as it had been before. He could have been reading the phone book for all the interest he showed.
“Yes, thank you,” Quinn stammered out around the violent tirade that had lodged in her throat. Caught so unaware by his presence, she felt just as much at fault for the situation, but her anger zeroed in on the male with laser like intensity. A mantra of bills to pay echoed through the livid red wash before she could snap at him. “Could you let me up, please?”
“I could.”
Waiting a beat before realizing he hadn’t said hewould, Quinn grimaced and pushed against the counter and in turn the male’s hand only to be flattened back to the marble. It hadn’t seemed to take him any effort at all. Doubt began gnawing at her. How long would it take Jackson to get there if she screamed? Would she even be able to get the scream out before the Alpha stopped it?
“Sir, as I told your associates—”
“They’re not my associates.”
“Fine. As I’m sure you heard me say, we’re not allowed to fraternize with guests.”
“And if I wasn’t a guest?”
“That’s beside the point! Will you let me up,” Quinn snapped as simmering heat reached a rolling boil, overflowing to cancel out the chill that had crawled up her spine. Eating tonight be damned, she wasnotgoing to converse with an Alpha while bent over a row of sinks.
Making a considering noise, the hand that had continued to explore her exposed back smoothed across her hips as the one at her shoulder gripped and pulled upright. Ready to shriek in pain and alarm, Quinn could only blink when strained muscles didn’t even twinge.
The male smiled at what must have been an expression of wonder on her face. The curl of his lips was lopsided with a too sharp edge that made her shiver. Eyes the deep rich green of twilit forests looked down at her with a calculation she didn’t understand.
Large hands tightened over her back and brought her flush. The heat of him washed over her like a blast furnace as the fine wool of his suit sighed against her skin. Tension ratcheted through her, pulling shoulders tight as she tried to shy away with a jumbled mess of syllables.
Whatever she wanted to say, scream or plead, was lost under the rich rumble that resonated through her bones from his chest. Joints knocked loose from the force of it, she sagged in his embrace as strong fingers worked along the length of her spine and eased away the aching knots.
The groan she gave was obscene and guttural.
