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The terror makes my legs shake.

“I knew there was a reason I needed to come here today. A diamond in all this trash.” His breath smells of garlic, and BO clings to his suit. I need to run or maybe scream. Something bad is about to happen.

“Don’t be afraid—”

“Boris, you forget something?” His voice fills the room, stopping the man as I reach behind me to steady myself. He’s here—the most wonderful man in the world. His tall form fills the kitchen and I nearly jump into his arms.

Light floods the room as he leans casually on the doorframe. Holy God, he is everything. Trying to breathe so as not to pass out, I stare at him, the most incredible man, a warrior. He really is Khal Drogo coming to save me.

The hissing sound of one of the ginger ales that I dropped, along with the wetness of the spray, snaps me out of the delusion that Ryder is Drogo. As he pushes off the frame and crosses his arms, I’m forced to acknowledge that he’s way more dangerous than this Boris man, though not creepy.

“How much?” Boris demands as he turns to face Ryder.

“Well, seeing as we don’t buy and sell women, I’ll ignore the question.”

My eyes drift to the area behind him where a couple of guys in sweatsuits are hovering. I open my mouth to say something, but his dark eyes silence me. Instead, I grip the counter.

“Come now, Ryder, everyone has a price.” He smiles. The guy’s odor is terrible. Does he not use deodorant? I almost gag but seem unable to do anything but watch Ryder stare at him in a way that makes every single cell in my body tingle.

“Leave,” Ryder states as if he’s giving a dog a command. I can’t look away from him. The man is that awe-inspiring.

“Interesting.” Boris looks at me, then back at him. “I thought I left my phone.”

“You didn’t.”

He smiles and cocks his head as he brings his hand up holding his phone. “You’re right, I seem to have found it.” He turns to me and I fight back the urge to cover my mouth, but I’m not certain I can move.

“Butterfly.” He winks at me again and I want to run behind Ryder, but the most I seem capable of right now is holding myself up. This man is not right. It’s in his eyes; they’re dead. How does a person get to be like that?

The men in sweatsuits walk away, but my eyes find Ryder’s. He ignores Boris as he passes. I’m going to puke. Thank God I have nothing in my stomach because unlike Boris’s, Ryder’s eyes are not dead.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” he hisses, his laidback attitude gone now that Boris has left.

“I—”

He holds up a finger to silence me and rapidly types on his phone. My stomach was already queasy, but now it’s doing flips. He looks up. I can’t breathe, move, do anything but watch him.

“Are you stupid?” he demands.

I blink at him. Did he just call me stupid?

“What? I’m not stupid.” Hopefully I sound fierce, insulted, because I am. Unfortunately, I’m also fighting terror. Great. He’s way too close…

“Why would you let that animal near you? Do you have any idea what he does to women?”

My head is spinning, like I’m off balance.

“I just came to get some food. Usually Amy—”

“You’re supposed to be gone.”

His fist pounds the cabinets as he cages me in. I don’t know if I just screamed and reached for him in fear, or if I’m freaking out and about to faint. But my one hand clutches his cotton black shirt, and the other is digging into his leather vest.

“I came to get some food,” I repeat. I need to let go. He’s looking at me like he wants to kill me, if his clenched jaw and the narrowing of his eyes are any indication.

“That man is an animal. Why would you just stand there?”

“I didn’t know he was there. I—”

“Julianna.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Do you not have any… self-preservation?”

I’m starting to shake. I can’t even defend myself because he’s right. What am I doing? Clearly these men are dangerous, and even though they may look hot, they’re still in this club. I have to believe they might be criminals even if Gia doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Fuck.” He grabs me and pulls me to his hard chest.

My head falls back as the scent of leather and spice invades my senses, branding me. Am I losing it? My reaction to this man is not normal. I need to run, yet my body is on fire, I’m achy, and all I want is for his lips and hands to touch me.

“Look at me,” he says gruffly.

My eyes pop open, and everything in my world has suddenly changed. Our eyes lock. Then he lowers his head and his mouth claims mine. I’ve been kissed many times, but nothing like this. This… is pure feeling. He’s rough. His lips are demanding. His powerful arms tighten around me. I groan as our tongues touch, tangle, and I realize he tastes like spiced rum.

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