Max grabbed Vivienne’s arm and she resisted slightly before he stepped directly into her view and shook her. As long as he was breathing, Vivienne was going nowhere but home. He heard something akin to a snarl behind him and ignored it. The bastard could growl, snarl, and spit all he wanted.

“Viv—hey, Viv. Are you okay? Can you see me clearly?” he began, touching her cheek and turning her head from side to side. Her reflexes were slow, and she kept looking over his shoulder, instead of focusing on him. A scowl touched Max’s lips as he turned to Drew, who stood behind Vivienne and looked frightened. “Take her outside and call a cab. She’s been drugged.”

Drew’s eyes widened and she lifted a brow at him as if she wanted to say something, but she grabbed Vivienne and against her protests began to lead her away.

Max turned, only to find that the man was being restrained by his two Muscle-Milk drinking friends. They were dragging him backward, toward a door that had not been open before. Max moved closer and glared; he was not in the least bit intimidated. The snarling man lunged for Max but the men held on, and he dragged them a few feet but not far.

He was obviously strong. Max did not care. He wasn’t just going to leave without calling scum, scum! If not for Drew, this backward bastard would have probably raped her.

“Listen to me, you sick fuck! Forget about her. If I ever see you again, especially if I ever see you around her, I’m going to rearrange that face of yours! You got that?”

Max turned and headed for the exit. A shout behind him made him turn briefly. The pervert had broken away from the men holding him, and in the end, four men—including the bartender who’d served him both of his drinks—had to restrain him and force him through the door. Max scowled, not sharing the fascination that everyone else seemed to exude at the number of men necessary to restrain him. He didn’t doubt that if it came down to it, he’d easily put the idiot on his back.

Chapter Three

It took Vivienne long seconds to realize that she was being led toward the exit. Everything outside of Conall was a vivid haze of bright colors, streams of light and incoherent sounds. Shaking her head and fighting against the waves that seemed to be pulsing through her body, she tugged at Drew’s hand. Except for a quick glance over her shoulder, Drew neither slowed nor stopped. It was not until they were outside, in the bitter chill of the night, that Drew turned to Vivienne with a look of concern over her face.

She placed the back of her hand against Vivienne’s forehead.

“Drew—I’m fine,” Vivienne began, her voice both breathy and shaky as she thought back to what had happened in the club. Her heart and pulse still raced frantically, and her body still felt erotically sensual, but her brain was functioning once more.

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What the hell did I do?

“You didn’t look like it in there,” Drew interrupted, using both of her hands to cup Vivienne’s face. The streetlights shined down on them but even in the dim light, she could see the dark brown of Drew’s irises and the little flecks of black in them. Drew blinked, and the movement was so slow that she saw hundreds of curved lashes meet before separating once more.

Vivienne’s eyes bulged before she blinked rapidly. At that moment, her ears picked up on something. A strange sound like a quiet grinding. As she looked around every other sound faded except for the brief crunching. The two bouncers stood before the door leading into the club, and one was staring down at them with an expressionless face. The other man was popping something into his mouth—peanuts? Her head tilted as she continued to stare at him. Impossible. It was impossible that the sound that she was hearing was his chewing when she was at least ten feet away.

The bouncer staring at her suddenly turned to the one eating nuts.

“Have you seen her before?”

“No. Why?”

“She looks suspicious….”

They both turned so that they could properly scrutinize her and Vivienne spun away from them.

The sound of blasting music hit her ears, causing her to wince before it quieted to reveal other voices.

“How awesome is this place, Terry?”

Who was Terry? Who was speaking—whispering, actually, as though from a distance? Her eyes frantically looked around, passing over Drew, whose lips were moving rapidly.

“—take you to the hospital—?”

Another voice interrupted.

“Hold him! Ah shit—grab his legs, Sloan!”

Her eyes scanned the sidewalk and street once more. Who was speaking and where were they? There wasn’t anyone outside except for the bouncers and Drew.




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