The security man bared his teeth in a grimace and ran his hand over his short blond hair before shaking his head at me. “You’re not the kind of person who gets to go in back, mate.”
I winced and glanced down at my shoes. My tattoo looked too bright in the fluorescent lights. The old me would’ve flashed him what was under the coat and smiled, but I didn’t have that in me. I didn’t bother going inside to the regular bar, even though I probably could’ve stood to have a couple of drinks. Instead, I turned and walked along the veranda. There were benches where people sat laughing together and talking. Occasionally someone glanced at me, but no one asked where I was going. Hell, I didn’t know where I was headed. The veranda wrapped around the far side of the building and there were fewer people over here. Only one couple sat on a bench making out, but it was still early. Maybe later every seat would be filled with people who were still pretty.
I was beingdramaticas my mom would say, but I didn’t fucking care.
This sucked.
But no one was going to ask me to come out here with them and do things in public that could probably get me kicked out of the country. I found a bench and sat on it, taking a deep breath. I smoothed my hands over my knees and tried to find the courage to walk back over there and tell that man I was going into the back rather than sit here and feel like shit.
I wasn’t going to count this as a failure yet because I hadn’t even gotten anywhere that I could dance. Laughter farther along the veranda drew my attention, and I leaned forward. A group of men in suits stood near an open door smoking, and my heart jerked.
Maybe I didn’t have it in me to try to flirt my way into the back room, but if I was really lucky....
I stood and hustled toward the men, keeping as much to the shadows as possible. “Is this the real party?” I called.
“Sure, love,” one of the men said, but he wasn’t looking at me because the guy with him was busy talking his ear off, and he was nodding and puffing on a cigar. He opened the door for me, and I slipped inside with a sigh of relief. I was at one end of a hallway. Walking forward, I passed the restrooms, and when I kept going, I turned a corner and smiled because exactly what I’d been hoping to see was in front of me—a giant party.
Tables lined the edges of the dance floor, and there weren’t many men and women out dancing, but there were enough so I wouldn’t feel like I was the only one. I shrugged off my coat, and although I might regret it later, I tossed it over a chair at a table.
The lighting wasn’t dark enough, especially closer to the bar, but I stayed near a dim corner and let the beat take hold of me while I moved with it. No one really knew I wanted to do things like this—I kept it to myself—but I loved dressing up. I’d always thought I would pick a boyfriend out of the guys I slept with. They liked seeing me in intricate underwear and, occasionally, nice dresses.
But after the accident no one returned my calls.
After the accident, the dance floor had turned into a waking nightmare.
I swallowed hard and decided I needed some courage to deal with this mess, so I went to the bar and my face burned. In the past, I’d never paid for drinks when I was dressed up—never—but I passed over cash.
“What can I do you for?” a woman behind the bar asked, holding my money. Her round glasses glinted with the lights from the dance floor and her white T-shirt was tied up around her waist. She tilted her head and her blonde ponytail swayed.
“Whatever that will buy me!”
She laughed, nodding, then lined up two shots for me. The vodka was a brand I’d never heard of with a kangaroo on the bottle, but it slid down my throat easily. The fire that burned in a line to my belly hit my stomach and had my face flushed in less than a minute. I whirled around and went back out to the corner of the dance floor, and I moved my hips and rocked to the beat and danced becauseI loved it, but no one approached me. After I had no idea how long, while I felt like I was dying underwater, I went back to the bar for another shot.
Then I was swimming in the sensations of the pulsing music.
Another horror show of a long time passed, and I was getting ready to head for another shot—or maybe sneak out in shame the same way I’d come in—when a pair of strong hands settled on my waist. Someone gave me a light squeeze.
“Never seen you around here,” a man said directly into my ear. His breath was warm. I felt bad because I wanted to turn around and see what he looked like, but did I get to have preferences or judge? Wouldn’t that be wrong of me, since it wasn’t as if I had a lot of people lining up to dance? And besides, he dragged me back against a muscled chest and his arms around me felt good. He tickled his fingers across my lower abs and my breath caught.
“That would’ve been difficult, since I’ve never been here.” The part of me that loved to flirt flared to life. It felt good to tease, too, especially since it caused this man to breeze a chuckle into my ear.
“A Yank! I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful arse and pretty long legs on anyone. I’ve just had a good couple days, and my week’s about to get better. Celebrate with me?”
My stomach dropped. He was dancing with me because he hadn’t gotten a good look at my face. I loved the way he slid his fingers around on my exposed skin, and I wanted it for a few more minutes. I was a tactile person and I’d been craving soft touches like an addict.
“I suppose you could buy me a drink, sir,” I said over my shoulder.
“Love this red hair of yours,” he said in my ear. “Is it fake?”
I playfully elbowed him.
He belted out a loud laugh that had people turning in our direction.
“What a rude question! I’m all natural.Everywhere.”
He snorted and gave me a slight hug around the waist. He turned me, leading me toward the bar, and I didn’t want to go because this would be the end. He would get closer to the brighter lights, spot his error, make some joke—probably, because he seemed like a sweet enough guy—and then he would be back out on the dance floor with someone else. I braced for the inevitable. Something similar had happened a couple of times at Phryne’s. I should’ve turned in his arms. I stumbled, and he caught my elbow, a perfect gentleman.
“The heels look good—” My face heated. “—but they’re hell to walk in sometimes.” I smiled up into his face and froze. He was older than me, and sweet Jesus, but he was hot as hell. His beard had the perfect amount of silver in it to make him look distinguished, and his eyes were so blue that even in the dim bar I knew they would match the sky. The white dress shirt he had rolled to his elbows was tight enough to show off thick biceps. I glanced away before I could see it happen—the realization. There was a guy nearby in white leather pants and a tight blue T-shirt. He had dark brown hair and big brown eyes and a perfect, flawless face. And that edible man was staring at the one with me.
