Page 3 of Tower

He narrowed his gaze as it traveled down the length of her body. She tugged on her neckline again, not that it would do much good.

“You’re alone?” The accusation of being single came harsher than the accusation of being a working girl in his club.

“Yes.” She nodded, raising her chin. She wouldn’t cower. Not anymore.

Peter moved his gaze from her, over to the bartender. “Two drink max. Put it on the house tab,” he said, holding up two fingers.

“Are you trying to dictate how much I have to drink?” She didn’t bother trying to hide her annoyance at his arrogance.

“No.” He settled his dark stare on her. “I’m nottryingto do anything. I’m doing it. Two drinks, that’s all. And if anyone approaches you that you don’t want, you signal that guy over there.” Peter turned to point at a security guard standing at the end of the bar.

“I can handle myself perfectly fine.” She curled her toes in her shoes. If that were the actual truth, she wouldn’t be in her current situation.

The right side of his lips curled up. Not a true smile, but at least his expression lightened.

“I’m sure that’s true—uh, what’s your name?” He leaned closer to hear her, but in doing so he brought his manly scent with him. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the musk and leather smell.

“Azalea,” she said softly.

He pulled back with a wrinkled brow. “How unusual.”

“It’s a flower. My mother has a thing for flowers,” she explained.

“Hmm.” He pressed his lips together. “Well, Azalea, you’ve already had one drink. You can have one more for the night.”

“You can’t go bossing around girls you don’t even know,” she snarled. She had already planned on having maybe one more glass of wine, if that, but she couldn’t allow his arrogance to go unchecked.

He quirked a black eyebrow at her, making his earlier glare seem like a pleasant greeting. “This is my club. If I say two drinks, then it’s two drinks. I could say no more. Would that get the message through clearer?”

She squared her shoulders to meet him head-on. She’d never see him again after this. Why not push the boundary just a little? Why not have a tiny bit of fun before she found herself locked away again?

“And if I have more? I could easily get one of these men to buy me a drink.” She waved a hand, gesturing to the crowd. Obviously, a single woman in the club was a rare thing, so it was an easy bet the men would fall at her feet if she asked.

His eyes narrowing a fraction, he placed his hands on the bar behind her, pinning her with a steely gaze.

“I don’t think you want to know what the consequence for disobedience would be.”

She gave a purposeful glance at the empty stage. “I think I may have an idea.”

His lips curved into a broad smile, like her statement pleased him almost as much as her cheek annoyed him.

“What you saw was play. A little show for the club.”

Azalea sensed the darkness in him, in the way his smile twisted and his brow quirked when he gave the veiled threat. A part of her should have been leery, scared even, but she found herself wanting to step into it with him. To be devoured, if only for a brief moment, by the darkness in him.

“Two drinks. Not a sip more. It’s for your safety, Azalea, not because I’m an ass.” He tapped the tip of her nose with his finger and stood back, giving her more air to breathe, more space to get lost in.

“And you put safety above profits for all your customers?” she pressed him.

“Only those worthy,” he quipped and gestured to the bartender. “She’s cut off after one more glass of wine. If you serve her, or any man that gives her a drink, you’ll be fired, on the spot, with no reference.”

Azalea gasped and looked at the bartender to gauge his response.

To her surprise, he only nodded. “Got it. One more glass of white then cut off.”

“That’s not fair. How could he know if someone is buying a drink for me?” she demanded of Peter.

He shifted his black gaze back to her and lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Life is often that way, princess.”

---