Page 9 of Stalker

He guided us inside as if he knew the place, but I could tell by the suspicious look on the bartender’s face that wasn’t the case.

My savior selected a small table in the back, still being gentlemanly by pulling out my chair. He took his time removing his overcoat, placing it gingerly over the back of the third chair surrounding the table before unfastening his suit jacket.

The air of arrogance I’d detected before remained intact as he sat down. Once again, he looked me directly in the eyes, capturing mine in a way that had never been done before. He wasn’t just undressing me with his eyes; he was consuming me with them. Every inch.

Unnerving, but exciting.

His possessiveness lingered even when the bartender finally sauntered over.

Neither man said a word, which prompted me to break down and order. “Vodka martini. Very dry.”

The stranger hadn’t paid any attention to the bartender’s presence, but as he ordered, it was obvious he expected prompt and perfect service.

“Vodka. Chilled is preferred, but over ice is fine. Grey Goose Altius if you have it.”

Whether they did or didn’t wouldn’t be determined. The bartender huffed and shuffled away to prepare our drinks. Expensive vodka. I knew that because it was the brand my boss always drank with his martinis.

Only this man wasn’t wasting time with a fancy glass, a hint of vermouth, or an olive.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable as hell. What was I doing here with a complete stranger?

“A vodka man,” I said, perhaps to quell my nerves.

“When it suits me. Scotch is usually my go-to. The smooth liquor soothes the demons.”

“Ah, the demons. I guess we all have them.” His answers were fascinating.

“Yes, we do,” he said quietly, taking another full beat before continuing. “Surrendering to a man is entirely different than allowing them to take advantage of you.”

While surprised, I wasn’t shocked at what he was telling me and he was right. “I know that. At least I thought I did.”

“Men like the man who’d dared wrap his hand around your throat only deserve one thing.”

Somehow, I doubted he was going to share with me what that one thing was and in truth, I wasn’t certain I needed to know. I’d gotten a hint by the way he’d reacted to David accosting me.

And I’d liked it a little too much.

There were few people in the world who would jump into the middle of any crisis, including a domestic situation. There were too many guns hiding away in purses, briefcases, and jackets.

“I agree with you. I won’t be reconciling with him. He’s not worth it.”

“No, he’s not.”

His stare was even more penetrating, pushing me further from my comfort zone. “Let me guess. You treat your girlfriend like gold.”

I was fishing and I suspected he knew it. I was also assuming since he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, only a thick gold band with a large dark stone surrounded by diamonds on his middle finger. In my mind, the piece of jewelry screamed power, which I suspected he had plenty of.

For the first time his features softened, but only for a split second. The corners of his mouth were turned up, his nostrils flaring. “I don’t do relationships. They don’t work with me.”

“Oh. Well, then I guess I’ll let you off the hook.”

He cocked his head.

“In seeking advice.”

The bartender suddenly appeared, placing my drink down with too much testosterone behind the gesture. Liquid sloshed over the rim and I was instantly aware my companion was ready to bark at the man or worse. An unabashed flicker of interest spun through me.

The bartender acted as if he was going to wait to be paid and in a smooth move, the mysterious stranger whipped out a credit card, the surface as black as his ring. He lifted his head toward the bartender, his silent threat creating a single tic of fear in the older man as he snatched the card.

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