Our fingers touch lightly as she takes the slice, and her eyes jump back to mine. I’m sure she felt the spark. Her eyes are huge as she looks from the slice to me, and my blood rushes another beat faster – she has no idea what to do. Just how innocent is this girl?

I lean in, placing my arm behind her again. “You need to suck it,” I say, and as soon as I’ve said the words, I realize just how bad they sound.

With flaming cheeks she nods. “Uh-huh.” She brings the slice to her mouth and I freeze. Pulling back is no longer an option as I watch her lips part and a perfect line of white teeth bite into the soft flesh of the lime. Breathe, I remind myself to breathe, because damn, that’s hot.

I zoom in on Katia’s finger as she reaches to wipe a lone tear from the corner of Emma’s eye. Emma flinches back slightly, and it puts her face inches from mine, her arm brushing against my chest. I have to force myself to sit still. I can’t make a move, yet. I have to wait for this thing to play out, as much as I hate it. If Emma makes a move I can do something, but I can’t interfere with Katia. I’ll blow my cover.

“Not used to drinking are you, princess.” Katia leans in to Emma, and I know for a fact as her eyes focus on Emma, she’s going to try something. Emma will either freak out and run, or play into Katia’s hands. For some reason I don’t want to see either of the two happen.

My heart starts to beat faster and I swear I’m going stop breathing any second. But then Emma surprises the hell out me as she turns right into me. Her hand clasps my thigh, her fingers digging into the muscle. The blood rushing through my body is about all the encouragement I need. She surprises me even more when she slides her other hand up my neck, sending streaks of lightning down south. I tell myself it’s an act of self-preservation.

Her breath is hot in my ear. “Aiden, dance with me, please,” she whispers, but the panic is there, and this is what I do. I help people because I’ve been raised to. It’s in every drop of my blue blood to save people.

I tell myself this as we slip out of the booth and Katia glares at us. I tell myself this as I take her hand and walk to the dance floor. I tell myself I’m going to dance with Emma out of duty, to keep her away from Katia. And I pray real hard I’m not flushing all our work down the drain.

The second I pull her body against mine and her fingers dig into my shoulder, the second her curves align with mine, I forget about praying, and tighten my hold on her. She feels so damn good. How can a foreigner feel this good in my arms? I’m a Southern boy. My whole family is from South Carolina. Emma sounds British. Her accent doesn’t come through as heavy as some of the ones I’ve heard before, but that doesn’t make her any less foreign.

Never in my life did I think I’d like a foreign girl. Maybe it’s because of that mystery of something new, something you have to have, and once you’ve had it, your world settles again.

The air tightens between us, and I feel every muscle in my body tense as her body keeps brushing against mine. And I do mean every muscle. I slide my hand up her neck and into her hair. Dammit, it’s as soft as it looks. She moves her hips with mine, and her breath warms my shirt. It’s not helping right now. It’s been two years since I’ve held a woman. Her hand starts to tremble lightly in mine and I bring it in, holding it against my chest.

“Aiden,” she says, and I lessen my hold on her so she can look up. The look slams hard into my gut and other places I shouldn’t be thinking with. She looks really anxious, vulnerable even, and again it makes my protective side flare to full capacity. “Sorry I grabbed hold of you back there.”

I smile. “Katia can be a bit overwhelmin’,” I say to put her at ease. I should stop right there, but for some reason my mouth is not properly wired to my brain anymore, “and I really don’t mind. I’d rather be dancing with you than sittin’ over there.”

Her eyes leave mine, jumping to my chest, another nervous action. And then it hits me - she’s not nervous about Katia, it’s me, and I haven’t been out of it that long to know that it’s a sign that the attraction is mutual. I struggle to keep from smiling, knowing she’s all flustered because of me.

“I want to ask you something,” she begins, “I don’t want you to ask me any questions and I won’t ask you any. I was wondering …” She swallows hard. “You look like a pretty decent fellow and I’d like to get rat-arsed without Medusa over there.” Medusa, good one. “Then … well, I was wondering if you would like to shag … as in a one night stand. No strings attached of course. Do you think you could do something like that?”

Fuck me!

I stop moving and people start to bump into us. It’s the last question I expected from her. Right now my mama would smack me upside the head. My brother would high-five me, and Zac would sigh with relief.

Without thinking, I grab her hand and drag her out of the bar. Once we’re outside and I’m sure we’re alone, I turn to face her. “Do you have a death wish, Emma?” I snap. The detective in me takes over, because shit, I care about what happens to people. I’ve seen too many women assaulted and murdered to just walk away and not care. “What if I’m some psycho?”

“You…” She looks shocked. “You’re not,” she says, and then glances away from me. She can’t even look at me. She sighs miserably and I hear it catch in her throat, and then she just starts to walk away.

“Hold on one damn minute there.” I take hold of her arm. “Why ask the first guy you see to go to bed with you?” She flushes a deeper shade of red. I frown, I can’t be wrong about her. I’m not wrong about people. I’ve done it for too long.

“You’re not the first bloke I saw. There were some odd blokes and then you.” She still won’t look at me. This is all about that stupid “wanting to experience things” for her.

I shove my hands through my hair. I can’t just let her go. I’ll worry myself to death whether her face will pop up on my screen tomorrow as one of the missing ones. “You’re being damn near stupid woman,” I snap. I wish I could just talk some sense into her but I’ll blow my cover and I can’t risk that. Damn it all to hell.

Then I remember about the getting drunk part. “And you want to get drunk?” I should be angry at her for being so careless with something as precious as her life, but I’m not. I’m just damn-well frustrated.

She nods, still looking determined. I can’t fucking believe this.

“Why?” I hate the fact that I now sound like her dad.

“I’ve never been drunk. I want to know what’s so fancy about it that people keep doing it.” The look in her eyes makes me take a step closer. It’s not pain or heartache, it’s something else. “I’m not looking for a big brother. I have one of those. Tonight is all I’m giving myself. Sloshed, wonky, a shag, all of it.” Her eyes pin mine back for the first time. “Are you in or are you leaving?”

Dammit! I can hear it now. Hey, Mama, I just wanted to let you know I did the noble thing and got a girl drunk. Then, I slept with her so no other guy would. It just doesn’t sound right. Maybe I can still change her mind.

“Fuck … okay,” I agree. “I’m in.”

She smiles brightly. Damn. Maybe she’ll change my mind.

~*~

Not even one hour.

Four drinks.

And a few more attempts from Katia to grab hold of Emma in some way.

That’s all it takes for Emma to grab my hand and drag me outside. She’s drunk all right. I was hoping to have more time to convince her otherwise. The nights are still warm even though it’s fall. Yeah, I’m trying to think of the weather and shit like that, but it all goes south when we get outside and Emma swings around. She slams hard into me and lifts herself up on her toes. I feel every curve of her body press into mine and my pulse speeds up, racing a mile a minute. Her mouth presses hot on the corner of my lips. I think she was aiming to kiss me, but missed.