the couple at the bar stumble their way toward the back of the room. "Blushed and everything. What's back there?"
"What did he say?"
The man and woman disappeared through a curtained doorway and CK reluctantly brought her focus back to Ryan. He didn't look so smug, now. In fact, he seemed down right pissed. "The usual." She shrugged.
He glowered at her and she went back to watching the doorway, her curiosity mounting when another groping couple slipped through the curtains." Ryan, are those people having sex back there?"
"I need another beer." He jumped up like his butt was on fire and headed for the bar.
She watched him, gratified that she'd managed to fluster him.
"This place isn't for you," a low, rough voice said just behind her left shoulder. "You need to go."
With a little squeak, CK spun around, sloshing soda onto the already sticky table.
The bald man with the tattoo laid his hand on the back of the booth and gazed down at her, his gray eyes cool. Tall and powerfully built, he looked younger than she'd first thought; no more than early thirties. A pink scar crossed the sharp line of his jaw an inch in front of his ear, turning a handsome face dangerous.
"You don't belong in a place like this," he said, quietly.
She slid deeper into the booth. "No?"
"Tell your boyfriend to take you home."
"He's not...." She hesitated and then gave him a measuring look. The concern flickering deep in his eyes seemed at odds with the rest of his demeanor. "A place like what?"
The dark slash of one of his eyebrows rose a fraction and the menace he was projecting eased off. "Hang around much longer and you'll find out."
Ryan appeared behind Tattoo Guy, his eyes blazing like a summer storm. "Can I help you with something?"
The other man moved away from the booth like he had all the time in the world. His gaze traveled over Ryan and a half smile touched his mouth. "She ain't your type."
Ryan took a step closer. "More yours, is that right?"
Tattoo Guy held up his hands, palms out. "The lady looked lonely. Thought I'd help her out."
"You okay, CK?" Ryan asked, his eyes staying locked on the other man.
A chill ran across her neck. "I'd like to go, please."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No. He just wanted to give us some friendly advice."
Tattoo Guy gave Ryan a tight smile and backed away. "Like she said. Nothing but a friendly chat."
He turned and sauntered toward the bar.
"What was that about?" Ryan asked, his eyes practically drilling a hole into the other man's back.
CK quickly gathered up her things and scooted out of the booth. "He said we should leave. Now."
"Why?"
"I think we should listen to him." She grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the door.
Ryan dug in, bringing them to a full stop. His gaze swept around the bar.
"Shit," he muttered. He snagged her around the waist and dragged her into a quick kiss, his warm, firm lips barely pressing against hers before they were gone. Need thrust through her, stunning her for a moment. She had no time to protest being manhandled before he'd hurried her through the bar and out the door.
The cool evening air hit her face and her thoughts began to rearrange themselves into coherent structures. "What just happened?" CK demanded.
"Raid," he said quietly, as he opened the back door of the Jaguar.
"Why did you kiss me?" she said as he bundled her into the limo.
"That guy was a cop. I saw at least four more scattered around in there. Maybe the homeless dude, too. I didn't want to blow their cover."
"But why did Tattoo Guy help us? We could've been like one of those other couples. He didn't know."
Ryan paused in the act of closing her door and his eyes flicked over her. "Sweetheart, really?"
An unaccountable thrill at his use of the affectionate word criss-crossed through her chest, mixing with her frustration. "We might have been anyone," she insisted.
"No one could miss it, especially not a cop who's seen all that these guys
"What did he say?"
The man and woman disappeared through a curtained doorway and CK reluctantly brought her focus back to Ryan. He didn't look so smug, now. In fact, he seemed down right pissed. "The usual." She shrugged.
He glowered at her and she went back to watching the doorway, her curiosity mounting when another groping couple slipped through the curtains." Ryan, are those people having sex back there?"
"I need another beer." He jumped up like his butt was on fire and headed for the bar.
She watched him, gratified that she'd managed to fluster him.
"This place isn't for you," a low, rough voice said just behind her left shoulder. "You need to go."
With a little squeak, CK spun around, sloshing soda onto the already sticky table.
The bald man with the tattoo laid his hand on the back of the booth and gazed down at her, his gray eyes cool. Tall and powerfully built, he looked younger than she'd first thought; no more than early thirties. A pink scar crossed the sharp line of his jaw an inch in front of his ear, turning a handsome face dangerous.
"You don't belong in a place like this," he said, quietly.
She slid deeper into the booth. "No?"
"Tell your boyfriend to take you home."
"He's not...." She hesitated and then gave him a measuring look. The concern flickering deep in his eyes seemed at odds with the rest of his demeanor. "A place like what?"
The dark slash of one of his eyebrows rose a fraction and the menace he was projecting eased off. "Hang around much longer and you'll find out."
Ryan appeared behind Tattoo Guy, his eyes blazing like a summer storm. "Can I help you with something?"
The other man moved away from the booth like he had all the time in the world. His gaze traveled over Ryan and a half smile touched his mouth. "She ain't your type."
Ryan took a step closer. "More yours, is that right?"
Tattoo Guy held up his hands, palms out. "The lady looked lonely. Thought I'd help her out."
"You okay, CK?" Ryan asked, his eyes staying locked on the other man.
A chill ran across her neck. "I'd like to go, please."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No. He just wanted to give us some friendly advice."
Tattoo Guy gave Ryan a tight smile and backed away. "Like she said. Nothing but a friendly chat."
He turned and sauntered toward the bar.
"What was that about?" Ryan asked, his eyes practically drilling a hole into the other man's back.
CK quickly gathered up her things and scooted out of the booth. "He said we should leave. Now."
"Why?"
"I think we should listen to him." She grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the door.
Ryan dug in, bringing them to a full stop. His gaze swept around the bar.
"Shit," he muttered. He snagged her around the waist and dragged her into a quick kiss, his warm, firm lips barely pressing against hers before they were gone. Need thrust through her, stunning her for a moment. She had no time to protest being manhandled before he'd hurried her through the bar and out the door.
The cool evening air hit her face and her thoughts began to rearrange themselves into coherent structures. "What just happened?" CK demanded.
"Raid," he said quietly, as he opened the back door of the Jaguar.
"Why did you kiss me?" she said as he bundled her into the limo.
"That guy was a cop. I saw at least four more scattered around in there. Maybe the homeless dude, too. I didn't want to blow their cover."
"But why did Tattoo Guy help us? We could've been like one of those other couples. He didn't know."
Ryan paused in the act of closing her door and his eyes flicked over her. "Sweetheart, really?"
An unaccountable thrill at his use of the affectionate word criss-crossed through her chest, mixing with her frustration. "We might have been anyone," she insisted.
"No one could miss it, especially not a cop who's seen all that these guys
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