She didn’t hesitate to turn from him, pulling his office door closed behind her with a decided click.
By the time Lucien finally called it a night, it had grown late. He had canceled his dinner with Candy since she wasn’t the one with whom he wanted to share the evening. He flicked off the lights to his office and looked down the hall to see that Darcy had already left for the day. He felt bad about earlier, but he couldn’t seem to help the bitterness that sometimes came up out of nowhere and threatened to choke him. He should be over it, for Christ’s sake. It was fucking fourteen years ago, but he wasn’t and wondered if he ever would be.
Like his feelings over losing Sister Anne, a place in him would always be empty from losing Darcy; he was beginning to realize that Darcy had claimed a piece of his heart that would forever be hers.
Allegro was packed as he walked through the club, looking for Darcy to apologize for being such an ass. He knew she usually had a drink before she left for home, but when he found her, she wasn’t alone. Her head was slightly turned so he could see the smile and the way her eyes were sparkling from too much alcohol.
The man was touching her, a light brush of his finger over the back of her hand, and he felt a primitive urge to rip the bastard into shreds for touching what was his. In the next minute, the brazen bastard reached for Darcy’s hand and pulled her from the stool to the dance floor. Even though the music was upbeat, he pulled her close as he staked his claim that she, at least for the night, was his.
It should be his arms she was in and his body pressed up against hers. They belonged together, so why was he constantly pushing her away? That was an easy question to answer: he was an idiot.
He moved to the opposite end of the bar from where Darcy and her friend had been sitting, and signaled Tara.
“Hey, boss, what can I get you?”
“Dewar’s neat.”
“You got it.”
Tara placed the glass in front of him and poured the Scotch. She noticed Lucien’s eyes were on the dance floor. “Darcy made a friend. He’s been watching her for the past few nights and finally worked up the nerve to make his move.”
Lucien downed the whiskey and touched the rim of his glass, indicating he wanted another. “Know anything about him?”
“He’s a regular. Seems to come mostly for the music, like Darcy. No worries, boss, we’re watching out for her.”
“Good.”
“Are you sure there’s actually alcohol in this drink, Tara?” The buzz wasn’t coming fast enough. Darcy hadn’t set out to get drunk, but the buzz kept her from thinking about how she had fucked up earlier with Lucien.
“Double the alcohol, just like you asked.” Darcy almost forgot she’d asked Tara the question. Her mind tended to wander when she drank too much.
“Can’t taste it.” And yet her tongue seemed almost too large for her mouth. The idea of her tongue growing exponentially until it hung to the floor brought on a bout of giggles.
“Where’s your date?”
“Not my date. He’s a nice man who wanted a drink and a dance. I think he’s in the men’s room.”
“How are you getting home, Darcy?” Tara asked.
Darcy shrugged, which prompted Tara to say, “Don’t leave alone, got it?”
Her salute turned into a solid whack to her nose, which turned her giggles into outright laughter.
“Maybe you should eat something. I’ll get you a menu.”
Her attention was on Tara, so she didn’t know that Lucien had stepped up next to her until he said her name. She turned so fast in her stool, she almost went sailing right off it. Lucien’s quick reflexes prevented a truly humiliating scene.
“You okay?” he asked, but Darcy was more focused on the fact that his hands were still on her. Yes, she knew it was because he didn’t want her falling and suing him, but it felt really nice. She gave herself another minute to enjoy the feeling of his warm hands on her before she slapped her own hands down on the bar so hard she felt the impact all the way up to her shoulder joints.
“Darcy?”
“Hands are funny looking, don’t you think? But not as funny as feet.” She bent forward to look