“Order drinks like you’re issuing a challenge.”
She shrugs. “Only when the company looks like it needs loosening up.”
“I don’t need loosening up.”
Her gaze drops to my hand, where I’m crushing the napkin like it personally insulted my bloodline.
“This napkin would disagree.”
I glance down, then deliberately relax my grip, smoothing it out on the bar like that proves a point.
I rest one elbow against the counter and turn toward her. “So who are you here with?”
She studies me for a beat, then smiles slowly. “No one.”
I frown. “No one?”
“I’m here alone.”
I glance toward the dance floor, the crowd, the drunk guys hovering like moths around any woman in a dress. “You came out alone.”
“Yes.”
“To a club.”
“Yes.”
“In Vegas.”
She leans her hip against the bar, clearly entertained. “Your powers of deduction are dazzling.”
I ignore that. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you out alone?”
She traces the rim of her empty shot glass with one finger. “Why not?”
“Because,” I say evenly, “most people don’t come to a place like this alone.”
“I just wanted to have fun tonight.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Do you really think that’s safe?”
“I can handle myself,” she says, eyes sparkling. “Now, let’s find a place where the music doesn’t sound like a construction site. I know a spot three blocks over.”
I should be heading back to the VIP booth and Rhys’s bachelor party. “I really should get back.”
“Come on. Live a little, Hercules.”
“I am living,” I argue.
Her hands slide from my shirt to my chest, fingers splayed over my sternum like she’s checking for a pulse.
