men seemed to be having words over a small redheaded woman’s attentions. From the posturing, Nick knew exactly what was coming, and he left his spot at the bar rail.
He didn’t quite make it in time. The blond-haired one pushed the other one back, causing him to stumble backward into the crowd and crash into a woman behind him. Nick reached for the woman as she fell, catching her before she hit the table.
She slammed into him, her weight landing in his arms as her feet nearly went out from under her. Something cold sloshed down his chest as he tightened his grip and turned her away from the combatants. A second later, a burly bouncer pushed past and put himself between the men, effectively stopping the fight by virtue of size and scowl.
The scuffle ended before it really began, and the two men were escorted to the door by security with the redhead trailing behind a moment later. The speed and ease with which the bouncers handled the problem impressed Nick, and he made a mental note to be sure to keep them on staff.
Looking down at the woman sprawled in his arms, he asked, “Are you okay?” as he helped her regain her balance.
The woman pushed dark auburn hair out of her face and tugged her dress back into place, calling his attention to the length of leg exposed by a tiny silver skirt and the gentle swell of her cleavage over a black top. His body seemed to remember the feel of those breasts pressed against his chest and his skin warmed a fraction.
“I think so,” she replied, before she lifted green eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you for the save.”
The smile lit up her face like the Vegas strip, drawing attention to her slightly exotic bone structure and causing something in him to stir.
“Oh, my God, you’re wearing my drink. I’m so sorry.” Her hands were on him, brushing at his chest and sending jolts through him as they did. Damn. What was wrong with him?
“It’s fine.”
“It shouldn’t stain, but I’ll pay your dry…” She trailed off as he grabbed her hands and held them away from his chest. “Um…your dry-cleaning bill.” She slid her hands out of his grasp and extended one to him. “I’m Evie.”
“Nick.” Her hand disappeared inside his larger one, but she squeezed gently.
Evie looked as if she should be gracing a stage: she was tall and willowy, with that dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and she carried herself with grace and self-assurance. Kevin would say Evie looked “expensive”—and she did—but without that fake plastic look or the sense of entitlement that normally accompanied it. He knew all too well how to spot women like that and avoid them.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Nick. And you have excellent reflexes. I never even saw that guy coming.”
“It happens. Testosterone, alcohol and a pretty girl is a bad mix. A common one, but a bad one.”
“So that’s what it was about.” Evie seemed to think for a minute, then she turned that electric smile back on him. “I feel like I should at least offer to buy you a drink or something.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“But—” Evie stopped and shook her head. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re probably here with somebody. I don’t want to start another fight, so I’ll just—” She stepped away and indicated she would leave.
Oddly enough, for someone who’d come strictly to case the joint, he was now uninterested in the club itself. Evie, on the other hand. “I’m not,” he heard himself say.
Evie caught her bottom lip in her teeth, and the sparkle came back to her eyes. “Then I can buy you that drink after all.”
“Isn’t that my line?” A couple abandoned a zebra-striped couch in favor of the dance floor, and Nick steered Evie in that direction.
“I believe the rescuee should buy the rescuer the drink.” She sat gracefully and sighed. “At least it’s a bit quieter over here. I can barely hear myself think out there.”
“That’s kind of the point. Most people don’t come here in search of stimulating conversation.”
Evie cut her eyes at him. “I guess not.”
A waitress appeared almost immediately to get their order. Evie ordered a vodka tonic, and though he didn’t normally drink anything stronger than water when he was working, he asked for the same.
It was slightly quieter in the corner, but Evie still had to move close to him in order to hear him. As she did, the faint spicy scent of her perfume tickled his nose. It suited her perfectly—just slightly exotic and very natural.
“So where are you from, Nick?”
It took him a second to get his mind back in the conversation. “North Las Vegas.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened.
He was used to looks of pity or scorn when he revealed his less-than-blue-chip background, but Evie’s reaction was unexpected. “Why do you seem so surprised?”
“Because I am. I mean, I just never thought of people actually being from Vegas, you know? It seems like one of those places where everyone is really from somewhere else.” As Evie spoke, her hands moved animatedly—until she seemed to realize she was doing it and clasped them in her lap.
“Everyone has to grow up somewhere. What about you?”
“Dallas.” There was a touch of exasperation behind the word, and her mouth twisted the tiniest bit. If he hadn’t been so focused on her lips, he’d have missed it. “I’m only here for the weekend.”
“Not on business, then.”
“God, no. Just fun.”
That phrase—practically the code word for trouble—should’ve sent him to the nearest exit, but something about Evie kept him in his seat. “On your own?”
“Oh, no, I came with a friend.”
He looked around pointedly, and Evie laughed. The sound caused a physical reaction—almost as if she’d run her hands over him again.
“But my friend made a new friend, so…”
Evie was on her own tonight. The same part of his brain that was overriding his common sense took that knowledge and ran with it. He shifted on the sofa, looking for a comfortable position as his body’s physical responses took over.
Thankfully, the server returned with their drinks, shifting his attention as he reached for his wallet. Evie stayed him with a hand as she handed over a bill to the server and told her to keep the change. “Smart women don’t let strange men buy their drinks in bars.” She winked. “It can lead to misunderstandings later.”
Evie wasn’t naive. He liked that. “Then I’ll get the second round.”
Her eyebrows went up in challenge. “That assumes there will be a second round.”
“I’m not assuming anything. Just thinking positively.”
“Hmm,
