Except…well, the why had been pretty obvious: She hadn’t been dressed as a customer.

With a curse, he glanced up at one of the cages, where a woman was aglow in blue light, writhing as if she’d lost a cold penny down the front of her thong and wasn’t allowed to use her hands to get it out. Was his dark-haired woman a dancer…or what that first female had been?

Oh, who the hell was he kidding. No doubt you could buy what was in the cages as well.

Still, prostitute or not, that had been some kind of moment when they’d locked eyes—the pull had been undeniable, even though it made no sense. It wasn’t that he’d ever judge a woman for being a professional, but he couldn’t imagine being with one who’d done that for a living. Was doing it for a living.

Nope. No way. Even if she were as safe as she could be, even if she chose to do it because she liked it, his mind was not hard-wired to share. There was too much of his father in him, and the paranoia would kill him.

Cursing, Vin wondered how in the hell he’d gone from taking one look at the woman across a club to trying her on for a relationship. When he was already in one. And had a diamond the size of a grape waiting at home for his—

Abruptly, his dark-haired woman burst through the crowd in the back. She was walking fast, her shoulders knocking into people as she went, her face grim and tight. And right on her tail were a pair of guys who had necks larger than their heads and nasty expressions.

Like they were ten-year-olds about to pick the wings off a butterfly.

Vin frowned…and got to his feet.

CHAPTER
12

As Jim walked around the back of the Iron Mask, he was not cool with what was doing on so many levels. And his outlook did not improve as Devina slipped her arm through his and pressed herself close to him.

“It’s chilly again,” she said in a low voice.

Yeah, it was, but he wasn’t going to warm her up like he had last night. “Let me help you put your coat on, then.”

“No…” She stroked the fur that was over her arm. “I don’t want to wear this right now.”

Which, gee, wow, probably meant Vin had bought it for her.

This was really not a good turn of events.

Jim got her over to the BMW, and the moment she killed the security alarm with the electronic key, he opened the driver’s-side door.

“I’m not good at stick shifts,” she said, staring into the interior of the M6. “I really can’t drive them.” She waited like she expected him to say something. “Jim—”

“Let’s get you into that car.”