His Secret Sin

“I think you mean eligible.”

“Nope, I mean edible. They’re never any good for you if you don’t want to nibble on them a little bit.” Melanie took her arm, giving it a little bite.

“Not awkward or weird at all.”

Melanie took her back to her room, and even as she protested, her friend always got what she wanted. Within thirty minutes, not only was she sporting a dress, but also some modestly high heels, and they were climbing into the back of the taxi.

She let Melanie take control, organizing where the taxi needed to go.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

“I thought we’d be going out next week, but yay for right now.” She did have plans to sit with a hot cocoa and listen to her book.

It would seem she was going to be dancing after all. The heels Melanie had put on her feet were pinching a little.

She wanted nothing more than to kick them off. Instead, she leaned back in the cab and waited, listening to the blur of the world as it went by.

All too soon the driver came to a stop. Belle paid, like she always did, and Melanie helped her out of the cab.

Melanie knew the guy on the door, and rather than wait outside at the back of the queue, they walked right inside.

The music was already really loud, and it stopped Belle from hearing where people were. Melanie was so distracted, Belle walked into a couple of people, immediately apologizing.

“Melanie, seriously, come on.”

“Yes, let’s go and dance.”

Tripping over her own feet, she was dragged onto the dance floor. Melanie held her arms, and they were both dancing.

Belle didn’t like it as she was moved from left to right, pushed and shoved. The heavy beat was making her incredibly nervous.

Melanie wrapped her arms around her neck, laughing. “I see a hot guy already. Man, he looks so hot.”

“I want to go and sit down.”

“I’m afraid there’s no private booth this time. Do you want a drink?” Melanie asked.

“Yes, I want a drink.”

Again, she was pulled in the other direction and placed on the seat at the bar. She placed her hands flat on the surface and knew Melanie had left her.

The heavy perfume that lingered in the air didn’t last.

She was alone, at the same bar, and this time, not even in her privately reserved booth. She gritted her teeth at the unfairness of it. She should have known Melanie wouldn’t stick around with her. For all she knew, they weren’t even at the same bar.

All so she could have a chance encounter with Diego.

This was crazy.

She had never been the kind of woman to put herself in danger in the hope of seeing someone else.

“What can I get you?” a guy asked.

“Erm, are you the barman?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Excellent. Can I just get a bottled water? The cap still on? Thank you.”

“Sweetheart, you’re in a bar.”

“I know. I just. Look, my friend is on the dance floor, and I can’t see. Please, can I just have some water?”

She always tried to make sure she never showed how nervous or vulnerable she was, but this was so fucking hard. She wanted to cry, but she kept those tears locked inside.

The barman didn’t put her drink in front of her.

He didn’t come back and speak to her.

Melanie didn’t return, and the bar was only getting busier, more frantic.

Closing her eyes, Belle tried to focus. She could make it out of here.

She had just gotten to her feet when someone pushed her hard. She landed on the floor as someone stood on her hand.

She cried out, but in the next second, she was lifted up. The cologne, she recognized instantly.

“Diego?”

“I take it your friend has left you again?” he asked.

The noise of the club faded, and they weren’t on the street.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To my office where you’ll be safe and not trampled to death. You didn’t even arrange a private booth.”

“Surprise. Tonight wasn’t exactly planned.”

“I expected more from you.”

She tripped over her own heels again, and she heard him curse. In the next second, she let out a gasp as he lifted her up.

“Man, you’re so strong.” He carried her somewhere. She heard a door open and close, and then she was placed on a hard surface. His desk? “Look, I can take care of myself.”

“You can?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, please. One shove and you were on your ass.”

“Technically, I was on my hands and knees.”

“And you think that’s any better?”

“Well, no, but, oh, please, stop doing this. Stop making this harder than it’s meant to be.”

“I should call your father.”

“Oh, my, you’re not my brother or my keeper.”

“I’m doing a better fucking job of it than your best friend.”

This made Belle pause. “Job? Are you, like, working for my father? Do you even own this nightclub? Has my father hired you to keep an eye on me?”