Page 2 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

Suddenly, a sharp cry rent the air and Alexandre knew something terrible had occurred.

The crowd parted for him and the scene that he stumbled upon, curdled his blood. Some drunken pervert had dared to put his grubby hands on his woman—in his own club!

Alexandre saw red. Grabbing the woman out of the bastard’s clutches, he pushed her behind him, then proceeded to beat the man to a pulp, not caring that the people around them had stopped dancing and were staring at the horrific event unfolding in front of their eyes.

One of the bouncers succeeded in convincing him that they would take care of the sick bastard who had dared to touch a woman in his club without her permission.

When the bouncers removed the man from his presence, he turned around to look down at the woman who had not only managed to arouse his libido but had also managed to bring out his protective instincts.

For as long as he had lived, Alexandre didn’t remember ever feeling protective about another person—not his mother, or his grandfather, or even his older half-brother whom he dearly loved. He didn’t know who this woman was and why she stirred up such powerful emotions in him.

“Are you alright?” he asked in English and when she didn’t respond, he repeated the question in Hindi and Konkani, the two languages widely spoken in Goa.

The woman blinked up at him before nodding. She was shaken—her eyes were wide in her small heart-shaped face, her lips opening and closing wordlessly as she struggled to make sense of what just happened.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her elbow and leading her away from the crowd.

****

Raquel let the manlead her away from the dance floor, her brain cells temporarily offline. Everything happened so fast—one minute she’d been dancing without a care in the world, and the next, some pervert had thought it was okay to grab her. Despite her clear objection to being touched without her permission, the man had simply proceeded to maul her as though her no had indeed been a yes.

Having been sheltered all her life, Raquel didn’t really have any experience with men—and certainly not with men who thought every woman was fair game.

She shuddered as shock began to set in. What if her savior hadn’t arrived when he had? Would anyone have heard her cry above the din of the party music? Would she have managed to escape that horrible man?

She began to shiver uncontrollably as tears sprang from her eyes. A curse sounded beside her, and the next thing she knew, she was swung into the arms of the man who had come to her rescue. She buried her face in her savior’s neck as tears broke free, soaking his collar but she couldn’t stem the waterworks as she continued to tremble against a hard chest.

A faint musky scent pervaded her nostrils as long strands of hair teased her nose. Her hand fisted on his chest while she kept her face buried in the man’s neck, unable—and unwilling, to leave the security his embrace offered.

It was so different from what she had just experienced.

Her attacker had terrified her with his forceful actions—his intentions glaringly obvious, while her savior’s actions filled her with a sense of security that she couldn’t comprehend. She didn’t know this man, and yet, why did she feel safe in his arms?

“Here we are.” The man’s voice was delicious, like thick chocolate syrup on ice cream.

Carefully, she was set down on a plush sofa before her hands were gently removed from broad shoulders which she wanted to cling onto for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Raquel blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the bright light that filled the room.

What was this big room—lined with lush sofas, brilliant lighting and a glass wall that overlooked the dance floor below?

Turning her head, she looked at her savior.

He was tall—gorgeous, with a broad forehead and sharp cheekbones, and eyes as dark as the night. His eyes were deep set above two straight lines of thick eyebrows. A thick stubble covered his jaw above which was a nose that had evidently been broken at least once. He had luscious lips that women would kill to have, but his most beautiful feature was his sable-colored hair—curly, with long strands falling to the top of his shoulders.

A previously unknown feeling settled low in her belly as her eyes slid down his body, taking in the long, thick column of his neck above wide shoulders that she had wrapped her arms around. A snow-white shirt covered his torso, but Raquel felt sure he would be chiseled underneath.

Illicit heat swirled inside her and settled in the spot between her legs as her eyes raked over the length of his body, skipping hastily past his crotch for she couldn’t bring herself to stare at the most private place of a man, and a veritable stranger at that. Savior or not, this man was a stranger, and Raquel blushed at the lascivious thoughts she’d just entertained.

Quickly, she tore her eyes off him and looked down at her hands that were clasped together in her lap.

“Thank you for coming to my aid.” The whispered words were lost in the loud music which filled the room.

“Did you say something?” her rescuer asked, forcing her to look back at him.

“Thank you,” she said again—loudly this time. “For rescuing me from that man.”

Nodding, he sat down beside her, handing her a glass which appeared out of nowhere. “Drink this,” he suggested. “It’ll help with the nerves.”

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