Page 9 of Hero's Heart

“Are you even listening, Sloane?” Marissa’s sharp voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Yes,” Sloane lied, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” Marissa said, giving her a pointed look. “You’re not here to sulk. Try not to ruin the vibe, okay?”

Sloane bit her tongue and nodded, knowing it was easier to stay silent than to fight back.

Marissa grinned at her friends. “Okay, so let’s talk about our clubbing plans for tonight. It’s my very first night in Paris. It has to be perfect.”

Chapter 4

The pulsing bass line of the music seemed to reverberate through the very walls ofLa Nuit Électrique, one of Paris’s most exclusive nightclubs. Multicolored lights flashed over the sea of bodies swaying on the packed dance floor, a blur of sharp angles and sultry silhouettes. The air smelled of expensive perfume, sweat, and the faint bite of spilled liquor.

It was obviously the place where people came to be seen and rub elbows with the young and beautiful. Marissa and her friends couldn’t have been more thrilled to be there.

Sloane wished she were anywhere else.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the VIP table, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The black sequined dress she’d borrowed from Marissa clung awkwardly to her curves, the hem riding higher than she was used to. But unlike this morning at the café, she couldn’t insist on wearing her own clothes. Nothing she owned—since all the money she made working for the family went back to the family to pay her debts—would’ve been good enough for a place like this. So,Marissa had tossed Sloane one of her own dresses with an exasperated sigh.

Sloane had spent the entire evening pulling the little black dress up or down. When she pulled it down to cover more of her legs, it showed too much of her cleavage. When she tugged it up to get more coverage on her breasts, she was sure it showed her panties.

Marissa, on the other hand, was wearing a dress that showed too much skin all the way around, but she wasn’t letting it faze her at all. Perched at the edge of the booth, she tossed back her champagne, laughing too loudly at something Danielle or Courtney said. Her designer minidress sparkled under the lights, a not-so-subtle reminder of its exclusivity.

None of the three women had spent much time talking to Sloane once they got here; they were too busy dancing or flirting with whomever caught their fancy. Sloane had already seen Marissa’sparty pillscome out, so she knew it was going to be a long night, a notion reaffirmed as the three of them headed out to the dance floor.

Sloane made her way to the bar to buy a bottle of water—the drinks here were out of her price range, and Marissa and company had very definitely not offered to buy her any cocktails. Not that she’d be partaking anyway. Somebody had to make sure Marissa found her way home.

Sloane was trying to get the bartender’s attention when the scent of too much expensive cologne tickled her nose, threatening to make her sneeze. She tried to move away, but a voice followed the scent a moment later. “You’re not from around here.”

She pulled back, startled to find a man so close to her. He was handsome in a sort of slicked-back way that didn’t appeal to her at all.

She gave the man a tentative smile. “What gave it away?”

“Would you be offended if I said everything?” Sloane forced out a laugh, and he leaned in again. “I’m Pierre.”

“Sloane.”

His smile slipped for a second, but it was back so fast, she was sure she imagined it. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

The wordpleasurerolled off his tongue so seductively, she knew he was a playboy. The love-them-and-leave-them type. Not something she was interested in at all, but…no harm in enjoying the attention for once.

“Actually, I’m working.”

Pierre’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t think heiresses worked.”

Sloane laughed loudly, looking away when Marissa’s eyes snapped to her. Even in the dim light of the club, she could see the flash of irritation in her look then curiosity and lust as Marissa’s gaze found Pierre.

“I’m not an heiress. I just work for one.” She pointed over at Marissa out on the dance floor.

Funny how quickly a few words changed things. Pierre leaned away, taking his heat and interest with him as he studied Marissa. “You look very similar to your employer.”

Sloane took a sip of her water. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

He offered her an apologetic smile, but his attention was obviously now caught on Marissa. He had an agenda, and it didn’t involve the hired help. “It was nice chatting with you.”

“Sure. Bye.” She didn’t even have it in herself to be polite.

Less than a minute after he left Sloane, Pierre and Marissa were wrapped up in each other on the dance floor, bodies moving to the beat while hands roamed. Something in Sloane’s heart clenched.

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