to think she could use such a lame excuse as the reason for breaking his heart just fucking pissed him off. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“He told me he would look out for you, that he would make sure all your dreams came true, but only if I stepped out of your life. I shouldn’t have believed him; I shouldn’t have been such a fool.”
“Who are you talking about?”
Tears filled her eyes. “That’s just it, I don’t know.”
He was so confused at her words that he made no move to stop her when she stood and walked away.
Lucien spent a few days at home, stewing. He damn well was going to get answers from Darcy, whether she liked it or not, but he needed to cool off or he was liable to say something that he couldn’t take back.
Tara called him on the third day of his absence because a band notorious for causing a ruckus was playing the club and he had completely forgotten. That night he was talking with one of the band members while he scanned the crowd for potential trouble and he found it, though not in the form he’d been expecting.
“Excuse me.”
He moved through the dance floor with the skill of someone who spent a lot of time in crowds, but his eyes were totally focused on Darcy, who was dancing up against some guy. Her hair was down, the thick black strands shone like silk, and the man was touching it, fisting it as he moved his hips against her. Her eyes were closed and she seemed lost in the music or the man. Her body swayed in time to the beat. He felt fury, as expected, but also a punch of lust that almost knocked him to his knees.
Darcy loved dancing and she had to admit it felt nice having someone touch her. The man she was currently dancing with was a bit too touchy, but she had learned how to defend herself if needed, thanks to her mother’s motley crew of losers.
The music filled her head and wrapped around her as her body moved to it. A tranquility settled over her, like a dream that was just a bit out of focus; real, but illusive. The calm shattered when strong fingers wrapped around her arm, and she knew before she even opened her eyes that it was Lucien. He didn’t look happy; in fact, he looked as if he wanted to murder her, slowly. Before she could object to his macho idiocy, the man she was dancing with stepped closer and puffed his chest up like a baboon.
“Hey, man, wait your turn.”
The look Lucien leveled on him could have melted steel, but the man didn’t take a hint and moved up into Lucien’s space. Without a word, Lucien pulled Darcy behind him just before the man threw a punch that landed quite solidly on his jaw.
A red haze filled Darcy’s vision and rage consumed her as Lucien’s head snapped back from the blow. She started around him, but she had no idea what she intended to do. She didn’t get far before Lucien turned his head and gave her a look that froze her in her tracks. He moved with a speed she’d never seen in him, and seconds later, the man was flat on the ground.
Lucien, it seemed, had only one thing in mind next and that was screaming at her until she was deaf. He reached for her hand and pulled her from the dance floor, dragging her across the club and down the hall to their offices. He pushed her into his, then closed and locked the door and glared at her.
She could admit to herself that his stare was very unnerving as sweat dripped down between her breasts. When he only continued to stare, she found her own temper stirring.
“What the hell is your problem?” she demanded.
“What the hell were you doing out there?” She actually felt her hair blow back from her face by the force of his bellow.
“I was dancing.”
“Dancing? No, that wasn’t dancing.”
“Oh really, so what would you call it?”
“If you want to fuck, there are more private places for you to do so. Unless, of course, you want an audience.”
Shit. He wanted to take it back as soon as it came out of his mouth. Her reaction was immediate: the color drained from her face and her eyes grew wide with hurt and then hate.
“Consider this my resignation.” She flipped him off