his heels at the table. He watched her retreat toward the lighted sign marked "Femmes," then she disappeared through the dark, swinging door.
Corinne spent only a minute or two in the restroom, standing with her back resting against the wall opposite the nicked-up porcelain sink and chipped mirror. Just long enough to catch her breath, to collect her thoughts as best she could. Her one cocktail with dinner really had gone straight to her head. Why else would she have been sitting at the table with Hunter, talking about music and reminiscing about her past, when she should have been quizzing him about whatever information he and the Order had gathered on Henry Vachon?
If Hunter hadn't brought up her scars, or the none-too-subtle reminder that he'd seen them and a lot more back at the hotel, she might still be sitting there, losing herself in the simple pleasures of good food and drink and the music she'd loved so much as a girl. She had even been enjoying Hunter's stiff company, which only emphasized how badly the little bit of alcohol had affected her.
She stepped out of the restroom, back into the smoke-wreathed cavern of the restaurant. Standing up, without the restroom wall to keep her steady, her head was light, her legs loose as she drifted toward the three-piece band that was serenading a dance floor crowded with slowly swaying couples.
Corinne stood at the edge of the small square of worn wood flooring and watched the people move among the candlelight and shadows. Bodies pressed close together, arms wrapped around one another as the music enveloped the entire club. She smiled wistfully, unable to keep the smile from her lips as she recognized the sultry but defiant lyrics. Another Bessie Smith song. Another pull toward the past, back to a time when she was innocent, unaware of just how cruel and ugly evil could be.
She closed her eyes and felt the familiar old music wash over her, tempting her toward its safe harbor. It was only illusion; she knew that. She couldn't run away from where she stood now, no matter how much she longed to erase everything she'd been through. She couldn't ignore where she'd been, what she'd lost ... what she still needed to do.
She knew all of this, but with the singer's voice lulling her into a gentle sway at the edge of the dance floor, she couldn't resist the sweeping pull. It was only for a minute, a brief indulgence that she savored, eyes closed, senses adrift, floating on a tranquil tide. When she lifted her lids a moment later, Hunter was standing right in front of her. He didn't say anything, just towered over her, a looming wall of muscle and dark energy, the heat of his presence making the scant few inches that separated them seem like nothing at all. His harshly sculpted, handsome face was inscrutable as ever. But his eyes glowed with the embers of a banked, but slow, smoldering fire.
It was the same look she'd seen in his eyes back at the hotel, only now there was no door to close between them. There was no place for her to hide from the heated gaze of this dangerous, deadly man. But it wasn't fear that flooded her veins as Hunter looked at her now. It wasn't anything like that at all.
Something electric, something unbidden and powerful, passed between them in that instant. It was the only way she could explain how her hands reached out to him, her palms coming to rest on his broad shoulders. The only way she could fathom the impulse that made her rest her cheek on his strong chest and whisper, "Dance with me, Hunter. Just for a moment?"
Holding on to him, she rocked slowly to Bessie's lyrics, her ear pressed against the heavy thump of Hunter's heart. He wasn't dancing, but she didn't mind. His heat surrounded her, made her feel safe even though he was likely the most dangerous person in the room. His arms went around her after a long moment, his big hands resting lightly, tentatively at the base of her spine. He was stiff, almost awkwardly so. She couldn't hear him breathing anymore, only the rising drum of his heartbeat, so heavy and intense it nearly drowned out all other sound.
She lifted her head and glanced up at him, her hands still braced on his thick shoulders. His golden eyes were throwing off amber sparks, his pupils narrowing toward catlike