myself together. I'll go outside and get a cab. That sounds like a good plan to me. I'm just deciding to walk away when two guys walk up, blocking my way. I look up at them warily, because they're both much taller than me, even in my heels. The thing that worries me the most about them is they both look a little rough around the edges, and they reek of beer.
“Hey, pretty girl. Lookin' for some fun?” The one with the pudgy belly walks closer to me, his eyes roaming over me appreciatively.
A hint of uneasiness sweeps through me. “I have friends waiting for me,” I say stiffly as I try to walk past them. The other one reaches out and slips an arm around my waist, drawing me up against his body. This guy is more muscular, and he's kind of cute. My body flares to life, and I'm horrified. “Let me go!” I say as I struggle against him, even though my body has other things in mind. I want to rub up against him, and I can barely stop myself from doing so. Tears sting my eyes, and I feel humiliation rising within me. What is wrong with me?
“Let her go. Now.”
My head jerks up, and I see Trace standing before me.
He looks pissed, and his gray eyes are focused on the man holding me against his body. “I said let her go, or you and I are going to go outside and have ourselves a little conversation.”
“Let her go,” the guy with the pudgy belly mutters.
I'm abruptly released, and I feel myself wilt back against the wall, my heart thudding out of control with relief. It thunders in my ears so loudly that I don't hear whatever Trace says to them, but whatever it is, it sends both guys rushing off into the crowd.
Trace's face appears before mine, his eyes concerned. “Did they touch you?”
Tears immediately well up in my eyes as I remember how I'd wanted the guy who had held me prisoner against his body.
Trace mutters an expletive. “I know you're upset, but you need to pull yourself together until I can get you out of here. Khristos will have his men on you in a heartbeat if he thinks something bad went down, and the last thing you need is trouble your first night at the club.”
I nod and wipe at a stray tear.
“We'll go out the back exit. Just look bored, like you're ready to go home. No one will think anything of it if they see you leaving. I'm sure Roman twisted your arm to get you here tonight, right?”
A smile creeps across my lips. “You all know me so well.”
“Well, you've made it pretty clear you like to do your own thing. Feeling better?” he asks as he studies me.
“Let's go,” I say with a slight nod.
Trace leads me out of the club through the back exit, and no one seems to notice. His SUV is parked in a private parking lot near an alley, and we briskly walk over to it. The second I sit down in the passenger seat of his SUV, I collapse and shut my eyes as I try to process the past few hours.
“Did they touch you inappropriately, Livvy? Because if they did, you need to stay here while I take care of them,” Trace says, his voice low and controlled, but I can still hear the anger in it.
I turn my head and look at him. “How would you take care of them?”
“That's not for you to worry about.”
My eyes roam over his face, and I see something in his expression I've never seen before. Violence. Slowly, I shake my head. “They didn't touch me.”
Trace studies me for a long moment as if reassuring himself that I'm telling the truth. Finally, he turns his attention to the vehicle and starts it up. “How were you enjoying the night before things went bad? Do you like the club?” he asks as we back out of the parking lot.
I have a feeling he's trying to keep me from dwelling over the incident. “I do like it. I've never been to one before.”
Trace nods as he turns on the blinker and waits for a break in traffic before pulling out of the club's private parking lot. “I get the feeling that everything about Cherry Creek is new to you.”
“It is.”
We both fall silent, and Trace must sense I'm not in the mood to talk, because he