Kallie Margolis had been chief executive officer of her own highly successful business—in her former life.

That was what she was thinking about as she nervously stacked the glasses behind the counter in a bar called Darkness-Temnota.

Sal, the bartender, washed the empties one by one and handed them to her.

“You trust me?” she asked with a new appreciation for the task.

“It’s not rocket science, sugar,” Sal replied. “Just stack ‘em. And the ponytail is cute and all, but it’s going to get in your way.”

No longer in charge of anything—and barely her own life really—Kallie had become a cocktail waitress. Sal explained to her that stacking cups was how everyone started out, so they could learn the different types of glasses. She felt more like Cinderella, wearing her overly dressy bustier get-up that the bar required her to wear, acting like a bar-back.

She wasn’t sure what had drawn her down the stairs to apply for this particular job, except for need and sadness. She knew she’d walked into an older, dice-ier part of town, but the place looked cool. The neighborhood appeared more urban than suburban and the place, mostly below ground level like a bunker, had been around forever, so she figured she’d feel safe. It looked vintage. Like something out of the fifties, but well kept.

Sal was right about the hair, though. It did get in the way immediately, but she didn’t quite know what to do with it. The nearly-platinum strands were stick-straight. She wore it long and parted in the middle because that was about all she could do with it. It held no curl. The public health rules required that she tie it back. The ponytail bit was all she could come up with. It was too long for a bun, at least the ones she could fashion without a lot of work, and she didn’t have the stuff to do that right now. She would have to work on it. Big glasses on the bottom shelf, skinny ones just above, shot glasses go over there...

She faced the wall, overthinking her fragile task, when she felt an unmistakable shift in energy. Someone entered the bar and a tingle dashed up her spine. She heard the heavy footfalls and then Sal’s greeting.

“Hey, Sasha. Good evening to you, sir.”

Kallie listened closely for the response. She liked the name. Everyone in this part of town had names like that. Niko or Dmitry or Alex. Now Sal and Sasha. She stole a glance in the mirror, immediately connecting with a pair of piercing cobalt eyes that dropped, clearly checking her out. She tried to be cool as she shivered inside, but something about the intensely good-looking man whose eyes were walking her up and down said she couldn’t hide a thing where he was concerned.

She then caught her physical response to him from her own reflection in the mirror. Clearly, by the look on her face, he could see what he’d done to her on the inside, too. She wasn’t embarrassed. It couldn’t be the first time this man made someone’s entire body gasp. He had to be used to it. If this guy was a regular, working at the bar was going to be interesting. He was walking sexuality. Just the sight of him stirred things in Kallie she didn’t think were revivable. After the crap she’d walked away from with her ex-partner in business and in life, she didn’t think it would be any time soon when she would be interested in a man.

But this guy already gave her something to think about, even if she never saw him again. Maybe he was someone who just stopped by occasionally. A big, hulking man built like he was cut from a mountain.

With the expression of a hunter, handsome Sasha again passed his intense gaze up and down along her body, his smoldering expression unchanging.

The man hadn’t even laid a hand on her, or said a word, and yet he’d sent her heart racing. This kind of happening would be good medicine for her after walking away from everything to a life that was bare bones.

Sasha nodded and pushed away from the bar. “Sal, can I talk to you for second?”

Kallie liked his voice. It sounded resonating deep and powerful; his slight Russian accent added a purr and his voice alone made her skin tingle. Her ex-fiancé, Jeremy Corcoran, had a terrible voice. He’d been a gorgeous man, though, and he fitted into her plans so nicely, but when he ruined everything she had the fact that he had a voice people could make fun of made her resent him more. This Sasha, though, was eye candy and sweet to hear as well. There had to be a catch; no man could be this perfect. He didn’t have a stupid look about him, but maybe that was it.

“Sure, Sasha, sure,” Sal replied eagerly.

“In the kitchen,” Sasha directed.

Something was wrong, Kallie felt. Whoever this Sasha was, he had a problem, possibly with her.

She shook her head. Maybe she was being paranoid because of the stress from the past few weeks, which had managed to turn her life upside down. She might just be super-sensitive now. She’d run a huge business, and now she felt insecure about stacking glasses. She didn’t know what exactly might be wrong here, but there was something; she could feel it.

Sexy Sasha seemed to have a knowing look in his eyes and he’d studied her, then wanted to speak to Sal.

Something was off.

Seedy part of town? Dirty business? Or maybe he figured she was dirty. Or trouble.

The glass she was currently trying to set slipped. Fortunately, it didn’t break when it landed on the rubber mats she stood on. Good thing she didn’t break it, as she didn’t need a job that started out in the hole. When Kallie crouched down behind the counter to pick it up, she heard doors slam open up front with a crash.

She froze a moment, surprised by the sudden noise.

A second later someone burst into the bar and opened fire.

Bullets flew, and instantly glass shattered and fell all around her.

Her mind went blank. She looked up and saw more glass falling. She felt pretty sure she said, “Oh shit!” but no sound came out of her mouth. Or if there was sound, the blood rushing to her ears blocked it out. This isn’t real. It isn’t happening.

As the distinct roar of a gun fired again, she cringed. False alarm. There isn’t a gunman or more freakin’ gunmen in the bar. I’m not in danger. She tucked her head into her hands, trying to become small. There was no freakin’ way her mind was playing tricks on her. Someone was shooting. And had a freakin’ lot of bullets!

She harkened back to the first time she stepped foot in this place, as though maybe she could undo that choice. Looking back at what went through her mind at the time her self-deprecating laugh maniacally echoed in her own head as she tried to remain out of sight until the gunmen were gone.

The kitchen doors slammed open with a vengeance.

Someone shot back.

Kallie pulled the trash cans from beneath the shelving and duck-walked into their space. As she tucked herself into the hole as tight as a ball, her boobs slipped over the bustier she wore as a cocktail waitress and popped out. She drew the bustier up, but had to shift her weight because her knees throbbed something fierce in her current position. She was terrified they would pop back out.

Bullets and shots echoed back and forth, and she tried to plug her ears from the sound. It felt like it was never going to end. That the guns were never going to run out of ammunition. Kallie burrowed deeper and prayed she wouldn’t get shot.

Finally, the bar went silent.

Kallie slumped in her hiding place, playing possum until she absolutely knew it was safe to come out. She let herself breath again when she heard Sasha shouting.

He and Sal were shouting out hurried instructions.

“Call an Uber and send them to the hospital,” Sasha said authoritatively. “Let’s clean this up.”

He sure seemed awfully cool about the fact that two guys were just shot. Kallie took that as a hopeful sign they weren’t badly injured, even if they did burst into the bar and scare the life out of her.

Sasha spoke in that deep, rich, sexy voice of his, and if Kallie had been sitting next to him at the bar instead of hiding under it she’d want him to buy her a drink.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Kallie remained scrunched up, still not sure if it was safe for her to come out of hiding. She had no idea if he was talking to her.

“You, pretty little lady,” he said, and she knew he was talking to her now. “You can come out now.”

She couldn’t have moved even if she wanted to. Her mind seemed to be working, but her body wasn’t. She was paralyzed with fear. She tried sucking in another breath and relaxing. It didn’t help. She sensed him over her now.

He lifted her up from behind the bar, so easily with his ridiculous strength it felt like being lifted by an oak tree, if that were possible. “It’s okay,” he assured her gently.

She kept squeezing her eyes shut, opening them quickly, then closing them again as she rasped for another breath. Her throat felt dry and tight.

He leaned against the barstool, holding her with one arm as he reached over the bar for a bottle in the well. He flipped the pour spout open with his thumb and offered her the bottle. “Here,” he said. “Drink.”

Kallie took the bottle without hesitation and chugged. Delicious. It tasted like lemon.

He stopped her immediately. “Easy,” he admonished, then laughed softly.

“Are they dead?” She was too scared to look around.

“Dead?” he asked, as though it was a silly question.

“Are they g-gone?” she stuttered.

“See anyone here but us?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a trail of blood on the floor. With perfect timing, the dishwasher rolled out a bucket and a mop and began cleaning.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” She cautiously glanced around, still wondering if she could be heard. Her voice sounded so small, even to her.

Sasha tsked. “What do we need the police for? We’re good. Are you good?” he asked patronizingly, lowering her off his lap.

He was shifting the focus on to her. Very manipulative, very smooth. There were men in the world who were very good at this, and it appeared Sasha was one of those. This place was dangerous. Between the people who obviously came here and the ones who owned it, she knew better. If she was smart, she’d go get her stuff and quit on her first day. But she hesitated, wanted him to charm her more. He was so good-looking, with such incredible magnetism, that he’d been able to gloss over a moment that held her in fear for her life. She’d go through it again if he’d end up holding her again.

Idiot.

She casually drew down the hem of her tight skirt that had hiked up during the chaos and she hadn’t realized. Her face fevered with a sudden, intense blush. She coolly tended to her bustier, adjusting her wayward breasts to conceal them as well. She swore she heard him chuckle and cover it with a cough. She didn’t have the nerve to look Sasha in the eye, but she felt certain he saw it. “I’m good,” she said finally, trying to break the long silence between his question and her answer.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, suddenly the host. “You’re entitled to a shift meal. Why don’t you go make a sandwich while the guys clean up in here?”

Who could eat with blood on the floor? “Not exactly hungry. I think I’m going to go home,” she said timidly as the reality of the surreal situation hit her all over again. There’d been a shooting! People were probably dead, lying in the trash out back. Who knows?!

“No, no, we can’t have that.” Sasha set the bottle he’d offered her back in its place. “This was just a thing. Nothing more. Wasn’t our fault or anything we could do about it. It’s over and done with. It’s not going to happen again, at least not tonight.”

He laughed, but Kallie didn’t think what he’d said was funny.

“C’mon,” he coached, urging her to loosen up. “That was a little funny. If you leave, it’ll be worse. Sort of like the getting back up on a horse thing.” His head cocked charmingly to the side. “You’ll be less scared if you stay.”

“Sorry, but I just don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Except she didn’t have quite enough spine to leave just yet. Her legs felt weak and she wasn’t sure she could make the walk across the room. It’s from the shooting. Not because she just couldn’t seem to get enough of being beside a man like him. She should’ve run like a screaming freak out of the bar ten minutes ago, like any sane person would do.

Without touching her, he stooped to her eye-level and looked at her squarely. His gaze went well beyond her vision, feeling like it penetrated her to her core. “So, tell me something,” he said with a teasing tone in his voice. “Kallie, is it?”

“Yes,” she replied nervously.

“What is that, Russian or something?” he joked.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, unable to control the trembling in her voice. So, the guy had a sense of humor; she couldn’t find hers exactly. She made a face like he was crazy and it made him laugh. She got it; he was trying to make light of the situation, but she didn’t feel like just shrugging off what had happened.

In fact, the whole incident worked on her more and more.

She could’ve been killed.

She’d wanted a new life, but had no plans to join the afterlife.

He seemed to sense her rise in anxiety, and handed her the bottle again.

Then she drank again, this time slowly. Whatever she was drinking, she would have to get the name of it. It was good. “I’m going to be drunk for work,” she murmured.

“I’ll be your co-pilot.” He slipped his fingers around her hand and took a sip, her hand still holding the bottle.

She couldn’t even try to hide her reaction. He made her hot. Dammit, her whole body flushed this time, not just her face. How had it gotten so hot in here?

“So, you’ll stay?” He slowly lowered the bottle and let go of her hand.

“Yes,” she said. “Whatever.” She gazed at the bottle, wondering how it had fixed her attitude so quickly and smoothly. Maybe it was foreign, just like this charmer who currently watched her as he spoke softly to her.

“It’s to make Russian lemonade,” he explained casually about the liquor.

“Of course,” she answered. She was in a Russian neighborhood, so much so that not being Russian made her something of an outsider. The name of the bar, like so many of the local business, had a Russian word in its name: Temnota. Kallie had wanted to know what it meant and now remembered she’d never asked. Funny what occurs to you when you’re in shock.

Sasha himself was unquestionably Russian. He reached out and, without asking, wiped beneath her eyes with his large thumb.

Her makeup needed adjusting, she was sure, after her hysteria and nearly being out of her head with terror.

Sasha seemed more concerned about her appearance and her staying on than the people who had stormed the bar, been shot, and then simply removed.

When his hand cupped the side of her face she almost forgot herself, and turned into his palm to kiss it without thinking. It felt so amazing. It’d been such a long time since she’d had human contact, especially the male kind, that the slightest bit nearly made a crack in the wall she’d tried so hard to build.

“There are a lot of us around, you know,” he said.

“Yeah,” was all she could manage. Maybe a lot of Russians, but not a walking Russian god with the touch of fire like him.

“But the stuff you’re drinking isn’t. That’s an American invention,” he said, making a face.

“What does the name of the bar mean?”

“Darkness,” he replied.

“No, the Temnota part,” she said.

He chuckled and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.

Tingles scurried throughout her.

“The bar’s named Darkness. Temnota is the Russian word for it. Darkness.”

She rolled her eyes, feeling a little silly she’d missed that. Of course, it was. The name of the bar was simply Darkness. And within an hour of her being here it earned that name for sure. It could have been darkness for her, as in lights out, permanently.

He tilted his head. “What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this in the first place?” His head tilted again as he studied her.

She pressed her lips to stop the sarcastic comment begging to come out. Really? He was actually going to use that line? Maybe the assessment of his intelligence when she first saw him was accurate after all. However, the truth of the matter was, although she had a whole backstory, Kallie didn’t want to get into it. “I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said, his tone becoming firmer.

She might have known she couldn’t sell it to a man like Sasha. His intelligence was no longer in question here.

His brows gathered and it made her squirm. It was more than expression. He seemed to be able to transport his energy and affect her. He was probably very good at rooting out liars. Like some sweet-voiced, good-looking Russian enforcer or something.

“I needed the job.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. If it were just so easy to make the world, and him, go away. All she heard in her head was...RUN! But, in fact, that was what she’d already been doing, running. The old saying ‘from the frying pan into the fire’ now came to mind.

“I didn’t figure you were here because of luxury, but if you need the job then stay. Forget about what happened just now. You’re safe.”

“Can you promise it won’t happen again?” she demanded.

He shook his head, and his eyes twinkled as he smiled warmly at her. “No,” he answered bluntly.

“What am I supposed to do, then, if it does?” Kallie asked, slightly annoyed.

“Just what you smartly did the first time...Hide.”

Then he had the audacity to wink at her!