Page 3 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

Raquel, who had never imbibed before tonight, stared at the cut glass in his hands. “I...” She wasn’t sure if she should take the glass, but the zing in her veins from her first glass of alcohol had died a sudden death after what happened.

And she had loved that zing—the liquid courage which had made her dance boldly. It made her feel happy—and free. And she wanted to experience that feeling once more—desperately.

Tonight was the only time she would truly be on her own because, in the coming weeks, she would be busy with preparations for a wedding she didn’t want but had accidentally agreed to. A shudder ran through her at the thought of her impending marriage.

No, she wouldn’t think about it tonight.

Grabbing the glass extended to her, she downed the contents in one gulp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her rescuer, wince.

“That’s no way to treat good liquor.”

“It tastes awful.”

He laughed and she colored furiously.

She waited to see if the alcohol would light up her blood with the delicious zing that had filled her body mere minutes before. It had helped her forget her predicament for a little while. But she didn’t think she could pick up where she’d left. Disappointed and sad that she couldn’t even have one night of carefree happiness, Raquel stood up.

“Thank you again for saving me. I think I will leave now.”

She turned to leave but stopped when her rescuer spoke. “Don’t go.” Looking over her shoulder, she arched an eyebrow in question.

“Why did you come here tonight?” he asked, his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn’t name.

“To have a good time.”

“Then let me show you one.”

Chapter Two

Alexandre stood atthe bar watching his mystery woman dance like she didn’t have a care in the world. Two hours—that’s how long she’d been dancing, and she still showed no signs of stopping.

What was it about her, he wondered as he collected their drinks before making his way back to her, that had him captivated?

She wasn’t stunningly beautiful like the women who frequently graced his bed. In fact, she was nothing like the tall, busty, bold women he preferred. Alcohol lent her some courage and she was riding on its high, but he saw a vulnerability in her brown eyes which had him transfixed.

She had an aura of innocence that he found alluring, but there wasn’t anything innocent about the way she moved. Her movements were pure poetry—sexy and provocative.

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