Page 82 of Dangerous Temptation
She was smiling when she turned to say goodbye. ‘Have a nice dinner. I’m glad you’re out, Ax.’
She moved in for another peck, but he pulled back. The look on the woman’s face faltered, and fear flashed momentarily in her eyes. She stepped back quickly, but gathered herself enough to walk back slinkily to her table. Alex stood stiffly, watching her go. His face was hard and the air around him bubbled. With that dark five o’clock shadow, he looked dangerous.
Elena took a sip of wine that went more smoothly down her throat. She looked around discreetly, hoping few had heard the exchange. She was mortified to find people staring again.
He held out his hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
She caught it fast. ‘Yes, please.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said in the car.
‘It’s not your fault,’ she murmured as she watched the lights outside the Bentley go by.
‘She was a shiny bauble to have on my arm as I went to society events.’ He spread his legs wider in the back seat and raked a hand through his hair. It had grown somewhat, but still seemed tussled. ‘And she was an easy lay.’
Elena flinched.
He caught her hand. ‘I didn’t say a good one.’
She inhaled deeply. ‘If she’s a friend of my stepmother’s, I know exactly what type of woman she is. Candace is the queen of the gold-diggers.’
And a bitch.
But that went without saying.
She rubbed her temple and felt Alex’s grip on her hand tighten.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t stop her sooner,’ he said.
She’d come perilously close to stopping the woman herself. The comment about her father had been cheap, and it had blindsided her. Yet the way the woman had touched Alex with such familiarity and thrust her breasts in his face had almost been worse.
Elena let out a breath and her eyes fluttered closed. She’d almost put her fist in the woman’s overly white teeth. She couldn’t imagine the brouhaha that would have caused. In Jean-Georges? With the press watching their every move and hanging on every word?
‘James, pull over here,’ Alex instructed suddenly.
Her eyes popped open. They were stopping? All she wanted to do was get back to the penthouse.
Alex caught her chin and lifted her face. The garish lights of New York City spilled into the car, and she couldn’t hide her mood. His thumb ran across her lower lip. ‘You need a drink.’
She needed a pitcher.
Elena wasn’t in the mood, but she got out of the car, accepting Alex’s hand. She glanced up and down the street but didn’t see a pub. She didn’t see any camera flashes, either. Apparently James had lost the paparazzi. The driver was good.
The wolf in Alex was still looking for threats. He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her across the sidewalk to a building. They stood on a landing where three steps led down to a basement level. The blues club was hidden away and there wasn’t a name on the door. The nightspot was shadowy and exclusive, and Elena felt more relaxed the moment they stepped inside.
The crowd here was looser and more accepting – or they just didn’t care who’d stepped into their midst. Compared to the white starkness of Jean-Georges, the club was a panacea for the eyes. The lighting was dim, and the air was hazy. The tables were small, but visitors were more into each other than into their neighbours. Heads were bent together and glasses clinked.
Alex pulled out a chair for her, and a waitress appeared the moment he took his seat. She wrote down their order and moved along.
Elena turned towards the stage when she heard a bass being tuned. ‘Live music?’
‘It’s what they’re known for.’
By the time the waitress returned with their drinks, the band had started their set. The music had a throbbing beat and a seductive melody, but that was the way blues were. It suited Elena’s mood perfectly. Heartache and pain. Temptation and soulfulness. She swayed in her seat, drawn in by the ambience.
The second number was slower and sexier. They hadn’t even hit the chorus when Alex stood and held out his hand.
‘Dance with me.’
