Page 36 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Matthew stumbled on his words.

Catherine chose.

Her knife left a one inch slice across his cheek that bled instantly onto her blade. He jumped back with a holler that gained the attention of the bouncers down the way. She was already picking up her clutch and heading out into the swell of people, making sure to hide her gun in the bag quickly.

She didn’t even notice the form she passed at the mouth of the hallway that led onto the dancefloor until he was behind her. She only knew she needed to get away and make sure the bouncers didn’t get a good look at her.

“Whoa, slow down, babe.”

The familiar voice was followed by someone grabbing her wrist in the crowd. Catherine turned fast, already flicking the bloody blade of her knife out and putting it to the throat of a very handsome face.

Cross didn’t even flinch.

In fact, he grinned.

And fuck him for it, too.

The grin looked good. Like all of him. Dressed in a black on black suit, with leather shoes to match, and a deep red tie. Sex and sin and problems.

Sexy.

Dangerous.

Bad for her health.

Dark.

Lovely.

Catherine didn’t lower her knife.

“Quite a show back there,” he told her.

Catherine’s gaze narrowed. “You were watching me … following me?”

“Zeke—do you remember him?—owns this club, Catherine. I happened to be upstairs in the corner when you came in. You didn’t see me. I had my back turned. Zeke let me know you were there, that’s all. I didn’t intend to follow you until I heard the guy say something about looking for you when you skipped out. I just came to check—”

“To what, protect me?”

Cross scoffed. “Apparently, you do that just fine on your own, babe. He never would have picked his cock, by the way.”

“No man ever does.” Catherine let her knife drop to her side. “Quit smirking like that.”

His lips quirked at the corner again. “Am I?”

“Cross.”

“If you’re already here, can I buy you a drink?”

Catherine looked away. “I don’t drink.”

He should know that, after everything.

“Good,” Cross said, reaching out to stroke her cheek with two fingers. Anyone else, and Catherine would have pulled away. It was habit and instinct and love that made her punish herself by letting him touch her and enjoy it. “Then have a dance with me. You still dance, don’t you? I loved that, Catty.”

She shivered in her heels, confused and overwhelmed all at the same time. Invisible butterflies beat inside her stomach and into her throat. She hadn’t felt that sensation since she let this man take her virginity when she was sixteen.

“You don’t speak now?” Cross joked.