Entering the main room of the club, Liam came to a halt.
Astonishingly sophisticated, the glass and metal room was an elegant canvas that could be altered by the high-tech laser lightshow. Even the furnishings and expensive artwork were easily portable so they could be switched out, depending on the flavor of the night.
Casting an impatient glance over the crowd of females who were seated at the round tables that framed the small stage, he quickly turned his attention toward the long bar that ran the length of one wall.
His prey wouldn’t be interested in the male strip show, no matter how tempting the dancers.
She wasn’t into beefcake.
Nope. Not at the bar. A frown tugged at his brows as his attention shifted toward the small dance floor where a dozen women and a few half-dressed men gyrated to Beyoncé.
His heart missed a strategic beat.
In the middle of the crowd he could see the top of Holly’s dark head.
Bingo.
Preparing to battle his way to her side, Liam was abruptly distracted by a stunning, dark-haired woman who stepped directly into his path.
“Now how did I know you were going to show up here tonight?” Sasha mocked, the purple lightshow playing over her high, Slavic cheekbones and faintly bronzed skin.
Liam folded his arms over his chest. Unlike the other men in the room he was wearing casual jeans instead of leather, with his chest was fully covered by a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“You sent the text telling me where to find her,” he said, well aware the mysterious message must have come from this woman.
No one had been more surprised than he’d been when he’d received it, but he hadn’t wasted a second. Jumping in his Mercedes sports car, he’d made it to this club on the edge of Vegas in record time.
“Don’t make me regret it,” the woman muttered.
Liam didn’t bother to reassure her.
This day had been a lesson in frustration, taking its toll on his nerves. He wasn’t in the mood to play nice.
“You have a room?” he instead demanded.
Giving a snap of her fingers, Sasha glanced toward the hostess who hurried forward with a small key card.
“Here.” She pressed it into Liam’s hand after a short hesitation. As if she was having second thoughts. “She’s fragile.”
Liam frowned. “I have no intention of hurting her.”
“What do you intend?”
He narrowed his green eyes that were lightly flecked with gold. “You’ve done your part, now butt out. This is between me and Holly.”
“Dios.” Sasha scowled, studying his grim determination. “I hope I haven’t thrown her from the frying pan into the fire.”
“Oh, she’s going to get burned,” he purred, his blood heating at the thought of at long last getting his hands on the stubborn woman. “And she’s going to like it.”
Done with the small talk, Liam simply walked away.
He’d wasted a year.
He wasn’t wasting one more second.
With the ease of a man who carried with him a natural, ruthless authority, Liam moved through the crowd that parted before him. The music pounded and the lights created a dazzling display, but he barely noticed. His attention was locked on the woman who was dancing far too close to a bare-chested idiot with bulging muscles and a death wish.
Coming up from behind, he leaned down to speak directly into her ear.