8. Evelyn
Ifinally took the last sip of the beer I’d been nursing for over an hour. Even though George was just at the other end of the bar, I was still too jumpy to allow myself to get tipsy. I didn’t intend to dull my wits, even if my social anxiety was strong enough to make my fingers tremble. I tightened them around the empty bottle and fixed my face in a practiced, serene expression.
George was networking with his colleagues, so I would give him space. I was just grateful to be out of the apartment. Even if I was still somehow apart from the people around me, at least I wasn’t completely isolated. I was accustomed to being an outsider, a quiet observer. I’d never quite fit in anywhere—George was the only person who’d ever really understood and accepted me. He was the only man who’d bothered to break through the protective walls around my heart and earn my trust.
He might be distant at the moment while he focused on his career, but he was devoted to work for both of us, for the future he’d planned.
I took a quick breath and tried to dispel the worst of the tension from my shoulders. To prevent myself from picking at the label on my beer bottle, I set it down on the bar behind me and focused my attention on Sara, the vibrant, chatty woman who was married to one of George’s coworkers. She gushed on about her steamy love life, completely oblivious to my distraction. I smiled and forced a giggle at an appropriate time in her salacious story.
In truth, I was deeply uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. My sex life with George was private. He wouldn’t appreciate it if I casually gossiped about him.
“So, what about you?” she asked, brown eyes twinkling as they flicked to George and back to me. “Is your fiancé keeping you satisfied?” Her blonde curls swayed around her flushed cheeks as she let out a conspiratorial laugh. “He always seems so uptight. Is he a total control freak in the bedroom too?”
Heat flooded my entire body, and I was sure even my ears had gone pink with embarrassment.
The memory of my illicit dream arose, unbidden. For a moment, I remembered the caress of sensual lips on mine and the ache between my legs. I hadn’t been able to move; all I’d been able to do was submit to his scorching kiss.
My body burned, and I wasn’t sure if it was entirely from embarrassment over Sara’s inappropriate question.
“George and I are very happy together,” I hedged. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” I waved in the direction of the restrooms and quickly made my escape before she could ask any more sordid questions.
It didn’t matter that the fiery passion Sara described was utterly foreign to me. The stability and trust I had with George were far more precious to me than orgasms. I didn’t need to one-up her inappropriate stories to prove my love for my fiancé.
I edged around the small crowd of people who were dancing to the vibrant music, swaying and twirling to the beat. The bar was a bit raucous, but I enjoyed observing the smiling revelers. I wished I had my camera with me to capture the moment, but I didn’t dare so much as snap a shot with my phone. George was just across the room, surrounded by his fellow DEA agents. I was safe here, but I still wouldn’t indulge in my art. George wouldn’t approve.
“Hello, beautiful.”
I jolted at the proximity of the masculine voice behind me. I whirled, ensuring my back was to the wall this time; no one would sneak up on me again.
I shook my head at the dark-haired man with the bushy black beard, arranging my features in a carefully pleasant expression. “I’m sorry,” I replied in English. “I’m here with my fiancé.”
If he thought I was a tourist who didn’t speak Spanish, he might leave me alone.
“You’re American?” He beamed at me as he replied in English, and my stomach sank. “I love your accent. Have a drink with me.” He offered me one of the two bottles of beer he was holding.
I took half a step back, shaking my head again. “I really can’t, but thanks, anyway.”
Maybe he hadn’t understood the part about my fiancé. I’d give him the benefit of the doubt and politely extricate myself from the awkward situation. I didn’t want to cause a scene and distract George, not when he was working so hard to secure his promotion.
The man mirrored my step. “I bought this for you,” he insisted, offering me the beer again. “Come on, just one drink.”
My stomach dropped as another masculine form entered my personal space, far too close. He was massive, at least a foot taller than my five-foot-five frame. For a moment, all I could see was his back; broad shoulders completely blocked my view of the man who’d been nagging me.
I took a hasty step back, edging away from the menace that rolled off the man like a palpable force. When his profile came into view, my breath caught. His strong, stubble-shadowed jaw might’ve been carved from granite, and those sensual lips were peeled back in a contemptuous snarl. His muscular arm bulged and flexed with barely leashed violence as he reached out and plucked the beer bottle from the smaller man’s hand.
Those fierce wolf’s eyes fixed on his prey as he tipped the bottle back and took a long draw of beer. Then he gestured at the drink that’d been meant for me, still clutched in the other man’s hand.
“That one is for you,” he told the man who’d been harassing me. Something about his gravelly voice made my belly flip. His accented English was out of place, but I couldn’t pause to process anything other than witnessing the tense scene that was unfolding before me.
He leaned in slightly, and the smaller man seemed to shrink by a few inches. “I—I didn’t realize she’s with you,” he stammered. “My mistake.”
“Drink it,” the stunning stranger commanded, voice rumbling like thunder. “Or don’t you like the taste of whatever drug you put in her beer?”
My skin pebbled, the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising in response to the presence of a predator. I wasn’t sure if the fearful reaction was because of the man who’d tried to slip me a roofie or an instinctive wariness of the dangerous, beautiful stranger who’d come to my rescue.
It was the same man I’d seen in the market over the weekend, the man I’d dreamed about; I was sure of it. Those eyes…
The sound of glass smashing on the hardwood floor jolted through my body, making me cringe. The drugged beer splashed my jeans and pooled around my shoes.
My savior growled his frustration, white teeth flashing in a feral expression that made my insides quake.
“You think that will save you?” he seethed. “Now you’ll have to taste broken glass too. I will make you lick it up like the dog you are.”
My would-be assailant shuddered in revulsion and backed away, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I’m leaving now.”
The beautiful, terrifying stranger swelled with fury, his massive body tensing to attack.
“Wait!” I gasped, instinct driving me to stop the violence before I could think better of my actions. My fingers wrapped around my ferocious savior’s corded forearm, as though I could somehow hold back this beast of a man.
Shock thrummed through me when he went still as a statue, his hard muscles bulging beneath my desperate touch. My skin sparkled with awareness, and electricity arced through my body: a giddy response. Somehow, I’d harnessed the attention of the powerful stranger, staying his hand before he could carry out his threat to brutalize the weaker man who’d tried to drug me.
Those silvery eyes flashed as he watched his enemy hastily retreat. When he’d almost made it to the door, I felt powerful muscles shift beneath my hand, and I knew my savior was about to snap and go after his prey.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’m okay.”
It was all I could think to say to soothe his protective fury. I was grateful he’d come to my rescue, but I couldn’t bear to witness the carnage of what he’d threatened to make the man do. After my ordeal with the cartel, the prospect of more violence made my blood run cold.
He rounded on me, and his intense gaze punched the air from my chest. Striations of golden fire threaded through his pale blue irises, making them burn like twin flames.
“Go back to your friend,” he rumbled, a deep command that rolled through my body.
I finally placed his accent: Italian. What was he doing here in Mexico City? Was he a tourist? I’d seen him in the market, and now he’d showed up in the same bar as me.
It was strange, but not beyond reason that he might visit both locations; the bar was in the same neighborhood as the market. There were probably many people who frequented them, but I’d only taken notice of this particularly beautiful, imposing man.
He captured my full attention so completely that I didn’t notice the small crowd that’d parted around us: people giving the broken glass and dangerous man a wide berth.
“Go on,” he prompted when I didn’t move.
He wrenched his arm away, and my fingers tingled in the seconds after he broke contact.
“Your fiancé is waiting for you.” He said the last through gritted teeth, anvil-hard jaw tight.
I blinked. How did he know about George?
Oh. I’d told the creep who’d tried to drug me that I was here with my fiancé. My savior must’ve overheard.
“I…” I swallowed down the lump of guilt that suddenly clogged my throat. George was just across the bar, hidden by the crowd on the dance floor. I’d been staring at another man, touching him…
“Thank you,” I murmured, turning quickly and scurrying away from his alluring, powerful presence.
I hurried back to George, allowing the revelers to form a barrier between me and the gorgeous stranger. Just before I reached my fiancé, I schooled my features into a pleasant smile. I didn’t dare rush up to him and confess what’d just happened. Guilt still churned in my gut.
Besides, George would be upset if he learned that I’d been harassed. He’d warned me not to leave his sight, and I’d broken my promise.
I went to his side and brushed a kiss over his cheek: a silent, secret apology for my transgressions. He placed a warm hand on my lower back in acknowledgement, but he didn’t break his conversation with his boss.
I hid my disquiet well. This social time was important to George, for our future. I had no business thinking about another man, no matter how remarkable his eyes were. No matter the fact that he’d defended me.
No matter that when we’d touched, I’d felt a physical connection I’d never known before.
I leaned closer into George’s hand. I belonged to him and no one else.