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I step out through a door and down a narrow hallway.
“Hey!”
There’s no way he recognizes me. I don’t look anything like myself.
Why doesn’t he go track down the redhead and leave me the hell alone?
I make my way back to the main area, where people are drinking and eating food. My stomach rumbles. In my effort to make it here tonight, I completely forgot dinner, unless a few spoons of Emmy’s leftovers count.
I wouldn’t think a club like this serves food, but it looks like I’m wrong. There are menus on every table.
“May I take your order?”
I open my mouth to order when a loud voice behind me speaks over me. Husky and masculine and just the slightest touch pissed, I know exactly who it is.
"I'll have a street tab of truth, followed by a side of honesty, and polished off with a good dose of what the hell."
The waitress’s eyes go wide, and I stifle a groan.
“Well,” I say with a forced laugh. “Hope y’all give that to him for free, because I wouldn’t pay for that kind of order.”
The waitress looks from me to him and back again. “I, uhm….so I’ll be over by the bar if you need me, just flag me down.”
She runs.
I turn to face Ricco and feign ignorance. “Can I help you, sir?”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he pulls out a chair and stares.
“No, but you can tell me what the hell you’re doing here… Dani.”
I swallow hard. “The same as you. And do you ask every guest that question?”
His eyes narrow even more. “Of course. And I can assure you, you are not here for the same reasons I am.”
I give Ricco a tight smile. "I have every right to be here. And this isn’t a very good welcome to a brand-new member.”
“My family owns this club. I'm head of fucking security. I know every single person that steps foot into this club, and if you think for one minute that I don't know you are not a member here, think again."
Again, a flash of panic shudders through me when I think about the fact my husband died in the club owned by Ricco’s family.
“Well, you might not be able to check the most recent updates.”
"I don’t give a fuck about that. You’re out of here.”
I glare at him. Excuse me? Indignation flares through me. “You can’t tell me to leave!”
His brows rise. “I command security. I absolutely can.”
Oooh. He commands security. Hot.
Wait!
“No. You can’t make me leave. I have a right to be here. I have… reasons. I want —”
I suddenly stop, realizing we have a bit of an audience.
I am so tired of my cheeks flushing red.
Ricco’s lips curl upward. "I fucking dare you to finish that sentence. Go ahead, baby. Tell me what you want.”
"Privacy and respect,” I say, not knowing until I say it out loud how true it is. I don’t state everything else I want, but I mentally scream it until I feel as if I can barely hold it back any longer.
I want to be cherished.
I want to feel sexy.
I want to be loved.
His eyes smolder, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn't. For some reason I don't quite understand, Ricco’s a walking contradiction just like me.
"Anyway," I say, trying to keep my voice light and breezy. Time to turn these tables around. “I thought you were with somebody tonight. You shouldn't even be sitting at the table with me.”
He stares at me and blinks. "With somebody? What the fuck are you talking about?”
How could I have ever thought this man was my dream man? He has a potty mouth, a jealous streak, and I don't quite know if I can trust him.
"You were with a woman in that…" That room that smelled like sex and sin, and everything I've been craving.
His brows snap together, and his lips press into a thin line. "I wasn't with anybody. Did you see me talking to a redhead?"
I look away and my voice drops an octave. I can’t hide the way this makes me feel like shit. "Yes, I did. And now I suppose you're going to tell me she didn't mean anything to you.” As if that isn't predictable.
He crosses his arms over his chest. "No, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you that she doesn't mean anything to me. She means everything to me."
Opening my mouth, on the edge of indignation, I don't even know what to tell him, when he finishes the sentence. "I love my sister. I value family above all else.”
“Oh,” I say in an even lower voice.
His… sister.
“Oh,” he repeats.
I look down at my hands. I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to leave, before I’ve found out a single thing I came here for. I want to go hide, where no one can see me. Instead, I’m fidgeting nervously.
