A warm hand on my elbow stops me when I turn and begin to push my way through the throng of sweaty bodies. Electricity zips along my skin where his hand touches me, and I still.
“I’ll have a whiskey, neat,” blondie says. “And whatever she’d like.”
Sighing, I shake off the hum of awareness buzzing through me and turn to the massive man to find him grinning. Fine. If he wants to pay for my drink—and ensure I actually get one—who am I to ruin his fun? “Rum and Coke,” I shout over the noise. The bartender, who is clearly not my biggest fan if her eye roll is any indication, moves down the bar a few feet to make our drinks.
“Don’t worry,” Viking man drawls. “I’m watching to make sure she doesn’t spit in your drink.”
My lips twitch. “Gee, thanks.”
“Logan,” he says, his eyes roving over my body in a move he’s clearly executed a million times. It conveys the perfect balance of interest and aloofness. Like he’s traveled the world and figured out the secret formula for getting strange women into his bed. Normally, this kind of shit would make my skin crawl and I’d laugh in his gorgeous face. But tonight?
Maybe Mr. Viking is exactly what I need.
So I let myself survey him right back. Arching one eyebrow, I meet his gaze once I’m done with my perusal. I’m hoping my expression saysEh, you’re not that special, even though, in reality, my vagina is practically doing a jig. This man is fine as hell, and with his height, I’d bet he’s packing a monster in those perfectly tailored pants. Cocking my head, I tell him my name. “Blair.”
Logan leans down so his stubble grazes across my cheek. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. It really is. I expected better from a man who looks like this. Although, perhaps I shouldn’t. I bet his looks do more than half the work for him. Hell, I’m willing to overlook the cheesy line this once. Kicking myself in the part of my soul that houses my feminism, I paste a fake-ass smile on my face and twirl a curl around my finger. The Viking’s eyes track the movement with interest.
“Thank you.”
The bartender sets our drinks down on the bar in front of us, and Logan breaks eye contact. “Could you put it on our tab?”
Ourtab?
The bartender nods, leaning over the bar and pushing her tits together with her arms. “You boys let me know if you need anything else. I’m Candy.”
“And I’m going to barf,” I mutter under my breath. Luckily, Candy the bartender doesn’t seem to hear me, but Logan does. He lets out a bark of sexy laughter before pressing a twenty onto the bar as a tip.
“Thanks, gorgeous.”
Candy shoots me one last withering glare before she gives her attention to the next person impatiently waiting for their chance to order. I bring two fingers to my forehead in a sarcastic salute before turning back to the gorgeous, overconfident man beside me.
“Thanks for this.” I hold my drink up. “I have a feeling I would have been waiting a while longer if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“Probably.” One side of his lips tilts up. “A beautiful woman like yourself would have better luck with a male bartender. A female bartender will just see you as competition.”
I roll my eyes. “Not all women feel the need to compete with each other.” I begin to push through the crowd, my skin tightand overheated. I’m desperate to get out of the crushing mass of bodies surrounding the bar. Why did I come here? I could be at home, watching trashy reality TV.
Before I can process what’s happening, Logan wraps his hand around mine and uses his giant body to clear a path for us. “You may not have felt the need to compete with her, but she sure as hell was competing with you.” He winks over his shoulder.
“Whatever.” I drop his hand when we’re free from the teeming masses and I have at least a little more breathing room. My skin tingles, and I discreetly shake out my hand, unsettled by my reaction to him. The Viking’s gray eyes haven’t left me, and it’s as unnerving as it is flattering. I’m no longer so sure I’m capable of a one-night stand. Not if my reaction to him is this strong. Besides, there’s too much going on in my life. Shifting on my high-heeled feet, I let my eyes drink their fill of this handsome man one last time before I make my escape. “Thanks again for the drink. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t run,” he says.
His deeply rumbled words have the desired effect. I still, even as my heart pounds frenetically.
“My friends are up there.” He points to the group of muscular men in the VIP section I’d been admiring earlier, a genuine smile curving his lips. “It’s way less crowded and not as loud. Come have a couple of drinks with me. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
Over the years, I’ve learned not to take the promises of men very seriously. But he looks so earnest for a moment that my desire to flee fades. He extends his hand to me, palm up, with a challenge in his eyes. If I take it, that’s it. I’m all in for the night. Do I really want to do this?
Placing my hand on his, my belly flips with anticipation as Logan’s smile grows triumphant.
I guess I’m doing this.
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we get out of here?”
two
