It was the height of cowardice, and Evangeline made no excuses, nor did she even attempt to offer any when she left her apartment well in advance of seven o’clock the next evening.

Though she’d been granted a temporary reprieve when she’d gotten home and her girlfriends weren’t waiting up—much to Evangeline’s utter astonishment—to make her spill all the gory details of her evening out at Impulse, they had awakened her the next morning by all piling onto one of the twin beds in the room she shared with Steph and literally pounced on her.

Evangeline had grumbled and whined about them waking her up when she had to work a late shift that night, but they’d ignored her and informed her she had time for a nap. After she gave them every single detail, word for word, of the ultimate payback they’d cajoled her into. As if she had a prayer of going back to sleep after recounting it.

She hesitated for a long time, biting her bottom lip until her friends grew concerned, and Evangeline knew she would have to spill or they’d assume far worse than what had actually happened, and they would absolutely have no compunction about paying Eddie an unexpected visit and beating the ever-loving hell out of him.

And one wimpy guy against her three ferocious, positively evil—their best quality, in Evangeline’s opinion—friends? Wouldn’t have a chance in hell. Then Evangeline would have spent the rest of her day figuring out how to afford to bail all three out of jail, when raising the funds to bail just one would have been impossible.

Her friends were loyal and protective, and their friendship was unconditional. Evangeline wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world, which was why, despite her humiliation over the events of the night before, not to mention the OH-MY-GOD ending and her leaving like a mute automaton, programmed to obey without question, she poured out the entire story.

The first part involving Eddie was actually enjoyable, and now that she had distance and wasn’t existing in that moment, she could actually find amusement in what a complete spineless wuss he was and what a complete moron she’d been to have ever allowed him to have sex with her. Especially allowing him to be her first. Despite the amusement she was able to summon, the humiliation was still ever present in her mind, because how stupid and naïve could she have been? She wasn’t a stranger to hard life lessons, but this was one she would have been more than happy to take a pass on.

Her friends found it vastly amusing as well, once they got over their rage at the way Eddie had humiliated her and had actually assaulted her in public! But Evangeline had assured them that he had thoroughly received his comeuppance and he had ended up being far more humiliated than Evangeline.

It was then Evangeline had paused in the retelling, and Steph, ever the astute bulldog who never let anything go, narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she stared Evangeline down. She had the uncanny ability to make Evangeline feel like a guilty schoolgirl caught cheating on a test.

“Okay, all of that went down within minutes of you getting there. I mean, you had only just arrived and gotten a drink when Eddie came up to you with his little tramp clinging to his arm. What he had to say couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes at most before the bouncer dude got involved and tossed Eddie and his floozy out, but you were gone a hell of a lot longer than that. So what else happened?”

At that, Nikki and Lana both clued in to what Steph was getting at, and Nikki pinned Evangeline with a piercing stare that was almost as squirmworthy as the ones Steph was so famous for.

“You’re holding out on us,” Nikki accused.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lana muttered. “Spill, girlfriend. We mean everything. And don’t leave a single detail out or swear to God, me, Nikki and Steph will all make a trip to Impulse, find this bouncer who took care of Eddie and find out exactly what happened afterward.”

Evangeline groaned, because they absolutely would. The men who worked with or for Drake—she hadn’t exactly been able to figure out the dynamics of that situation in the short time she’d been there—were all badasses. She hadn’t needed more than a few seconds in their company to figure that much out. Anyone with eyes and any modicum of common sense could tell these were not men to fuck with. Ever.

She nearly laughed at the mental image of Maddox being confronted with three petite but very stubborn, determined women who were like pit bulls latched on to a prime steak when it came to something they wanted. They wouldn’t be intimidated or put off by Maddox—or any of the other badasses who worked at Impulse. The poor guy—or guys—would never know what hit them.

Well, except for Drake. She very nearly shivered at the memory of him simply looking at her. Like he was peeling her, layer by layer, and seeing every single thought, reaction or emotion she so carefully tried to hide from the rest of the world. For all the good that did her.

No, her girls wouldn’t have a chance with him. And though her friends weren’t intimidated by much, one look from Drake would likely send them scurrying in the opposite direction. Which was what Evangeline should have done, and she still questioned why she hadn’t done just that. But she’d been in shock and utterly overwhelmed by the entire sequence of events. Nothing had gone according to her friends’ carefully laid-out plan. But then Evangeline had never really truly believed it would, but foolishly, she’d allowed herself to be talked into the whole sordid mess. And what a mess it was.

She bit into her bottom lip, a sure sign of agitation. Her “tell,” as her friends often told her—in an attempt to get her to quit it. Not that it did any good. Because if she did relate what all happened after Maddox took care of Eddie . . . well, they would get it into their heads to go confront Drake, and that was the last thing she wanted. For a variety of reasons, the foremost being their safety. A close second was, well, it was humiliating enough already. To have her friends march down to Impulse and make a scene with Drake over it?

She shuddered at the thought. She’d already come across as a complete wimp incapable of taking care of herself, and having her friends go to bat for her would only further solidify that fact.

Steph’s narrowed eyes and deep frown softened, and a look of concern creased her pretty features and she asked in a gentle voice, “Vangie, what happened?”

Evangeline swept them all with a glance. Not a look she gave her friends often, because she was too wimpy to cause conflict and she was the peacemaker of the group. She was a perpetual pleaser, much to her friends’ dismay. They wanted to toughen her up. Make her more of a bitch on wheels—what they considered themselves, and they were so not. They were the very best friends any woman could have. But Evangeline just wanted peace. She didn’t want a chaotic existence. She liked her quiet life, her small group of friends and her job at a local pub that wasn’t even in the same stratosphere as a place like Impulse, but it was frequented by locals—except for Eddie, of course, who’d only been at the pub to seduce her. Policemen, firemen and EMS personnel in particular, which made her feel safe. More evidence of her naïveté, no doubt. The patrons were friendly and remembered her by name, and the tips were good, thanks to her gorgeous legs, fuck-me shoes and sweeter-than-sunshine smile—according to her friends. Because she sure as hell didn’t remotely regard herself in that manner. Their description of her made her hysterical with laughter, but she loved them dearly for their unconditional love and support and for the effort they put into trying to convince her they knew her better than she did herself. The endless hours they spent bolstering her self-confidence, and the absolute conviction she saw in their eyes and heard in their voices, warmed her inside and out.

Evangeline had merely rolled her eyes and informed them that any waitress who made the effort to remember their names and their preference in drink and to make them feel welcome after a long shift would receive the same.

Steph had snorted and then pointed out that if that were the case, they’d all be making as much in tips as Evangeline did.

With a sigh, Evangeline plunged ahead, because she was in a no-win situation. If she didn’t tell them everything, they’d haul themselves down to Impulse, interrogate Maddox and then God only knew who else and likely end up in Drake’s office.

And if she did confess every single thing? Who was to say the outcome would be any different? Only in this case, they might well skip Maddox and the other minions and go straight to Drake.

So she did something she never did with them because she trusted them absolutely. Never questioned them or their loyalty. But she also knew once they gave her their word, that even if it killed them—and it would in this case—they’d keep it. She set conditions.

“I’ll tell you the rest but only if you swear to me that one, it never leaves this room and remains between the four of us. And two, you’re to leave it alone. I mean completely alone, as in you forget it as soon as I tell you and there will be no confronting anyone, no questioning anyone, no investigating anyone or being nosy. You have to swear it,” Evangeline repeated emphatically. “Or my lips are sealed.”

The three looked shocked but each nodded in turn, though Steph didn’t look at all happy at having to promise something before she even knew what Evangeline was going to reveal. Her lips twisted into a mutinous line, but Evangeline stared her down, never once averting her gaze, until finally Steph threw up her hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay,” she said in exasperation. “I promise.” She glanced at Lana and Nikki and then added, “We all promise. Now will you just get on with it? We’re dying of curiosity here!”

Satisfied that she had their consent, and knowing that they’d never go back on their word, Evangeline falteringly related everything that happened after Eddie had been tossed from the club. She left nothing out. No words that Drake had said to her. They were burned into her brain, so it wasn’t as though she would ever forget them.

By the time she finished, her cheeks were on fire and no doubt so red that she looked like she was sunburned. The room felt way too hot and she desperately needed a cold shower, or even better, a bathtub full of ice she could submerge herself in until her flushed and aroused, traitorous body rid itself of the lingering aftereffects of Drake’s mouth, lips, tongue. His touch. God, just his touch had sent her up in flames. She didn’t dare imagine if things had gone further and they’d had full-on sex complete with penetration of more than just his tongue. She could feel yet another wave of heat invade her body, and every single one of her girly parts tingling in wild anticipation. She had to stop this!

How on earth, hours later, could just remembering all the things he’d done turn her into a complete hormonal mess? She didn’t even have the courage to hold her friends’ gazes anymore and had long since fixed her stare at a distant point so she couldn’t see their reactions.

When she finally dared to sneak a glance at her friends’ expressions from underneath her eyelashes, their mouths were agape and their eyes wide with complete shock. And for once in their lives, particularly Steph’s, who never had a shortage of anything to say, they were utterly speechless.

Nikki’s mouth popped open and shut several times in a row while Steph just stared in stupefaction. Surprisingly, it was Lana, the quietest of the three, who finally managed to squeak out, “What? For real? Are you serious?”

And it was a squeak. Barely audible due to the obvious disbelief cracking her words.

Seemingly Lana’s breaking the stunned silence began a barrage of questions from all directions until Evangeline covered her ears and groaned, sinking back onto her pillow and closing her eyes. She reached for the second pillow and would have pulled it over her head to shut them all out, but it was promptly snatched from her grasp and Evangeline found herself staring up into Steph’s outraged features.

“Oh hell no,” Steph huffed, her eyes flashing as her head hovered directly over Evangeline’s face. “You are not getting out of this.” Then she stopped, clearly at a loss for words for a second time in mere moments—twice in a matter of seconds? Her hand flew above her shoulder, palm up and fingers splayed wide in a universal gesture that screamed what? Her expression said everything else her gesture didn’t cover . . . Like why? And how? And holy crap! Really?

If it weren’t for the fact that the events were all too real and they had happened to Evangeline, she would have found her friends’ reactions comical and would even now be holding her sides and laughing hysterically as if she’d managed to successfully pull off the mother of all pranks, something she wasn’t remotely capable of because her girlfriends informed her she was too guileless and wouldn’t even begin to know how to deceive someone.

They made it sound like a crime, or at the very least a cardinal sin. Did people pride themselves on being deceitful or worse, being convincing and successful at it?

Evangeline sighed because yes, she was indeed everything her friends accused her of, though accused was too strong a word. They despaired of her naïveté and her inability to be catty and bitchy to those who deserved a good setdown. They were forever telling her she was too sweet, too innocent, too forgiving and trusting for her own good.

They loved her dearly for the very things they considered shortcomings, but they worried that those characteristics would end up being her ultimate downfall. Maybe they were right, but Evangeline couldn’t change who she was any more than she could change who she wasn’t. Hadn’t last night solidly proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt?

And well, she didn’t want to change. She liked herself just fine the way she was, shortcomings and all. No one was perfect. It just so happened she had more imperfections than most. So what? There was nothing she could do about it, so why waste time and energy she didn’t have trying to be someone that not only could she never possibly be, but also that she had no desire to become?

Put like that, last night hadn’t been the disaster Evangeline had immediately labeled it, and peace settled over her, pushing away some of the still-vivid and all-too-fresh humiliation cloaking her, even as her friends continued to stare her down looking like they were ready to rip her hair out by the roots if she didn’t further explain the shocking revelation she’d dropped on them as though it had been a live explosive.

“He actually went down on you in his office? On his desk?” Nikki asked in a hushed whisper, evidently having reached the breaking point of her patience and deciding Evangeline was going to have to be interrogated since she still wasn’t forthcoming with all the juicy details her friends craved.

“God, you make it sound so . . . sordid,” Evangeline said with a soft groan. “I feel like I should be in church right now, or at least at confession.”

“Hon, I think one has to be Catholic to go to confession,” Lana said dryly.

“Stop distracting her!” Steph said in a near shriek, her agitation making her even more agitated. “And Vangie, I hate to break it to you, but it was sordid. In a really delicious, oh-my-God, goose-bump-inducing kind of way. I need to sign up for that kind of sordid, because nothing I’ve ever done has even come close to that kind of hedonistic delight.”

Evangeline lifted one eyebrow in surprise. She’d expected . . . She frowned, giving her head a light shake to clear the confusion. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected. Maybe condemnation? Disappointment? Judgment?

But that wasn’t at all what she saw reflected in her friends’ gazes. There was a myriad of responses, almost too many to sort through, but nowhere did she see anything that made her feel ashamed or even sorry for what she’d done. But then she hadn’t done anything. She’d just been a clueless—a completely clueless—participant, if she could actually call her response actual participation. She’d merely allowed him to happen. To take over and control every aspect of the shattering, life-altering sequence of events that had begun as simple, petty payback. There was no blaming shock, being overwhelmed, or even the fact that her senses had been so scattered that she wasn’t even cognizant of what was happening. She knew who was to blame, and it wasn’t Drake. It was her own damn fault for not having the fortitude and daring to put a stop to the entire farce. She didn’t have a brave bone in her body, and last night had only proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Worse, she’d known exactly what he was doing—what he was going to do—and she’d quivered to her bones, shaking violently with suppressed need and longing. He’d awakened a fire that had long lay dormant within her, and God help her, she’d wanted it, craved it and him—with every breath in her body. With wild desperation that still bewildered her, because the wanton woman she hadn’t even known existed had responded with complete abandon to a man she’d known for all of a few minutes. For once in her life she’d given in to spontaneity. Done something completely out of character. Grabbed onto the moment and reveled in every single second of unimaginable pleasure. Like in her most erotic fantasies she’d never shared with anyone. Not even her friends. Because they shamed her, and more than that, they frightened her, because in no way, in any of her wildest fantasies, was she in control of any aspect. She belonged to a man who cherished her, protected her, spoiled her endlessly, but in return he was demanding, ruthless even, with an edge of danger and mystery that clung to him like a second skin, one he wore with the comfort and ease of someone well acquainted with such a lifestyle.

What kind of messed-up person did that make her? She closed her eyes again, refusing to dwell on things better left in the past. If she had her way, she’d never see him again because she sure as hell would never venture into places like Impulse where even the hired help were seen in a more superior, deserving light than she was.

It might make her the biggest coward on earth, but even if she wasn’t scheduled for work that night, there was no way she would be here at seven that evening waiting to be collected like a “possession” and expected to do unimaginable things—even if the thought of those things sent her body up in flames.

She gave a small sigh, ignoring the looks of growing impatience and irritation on her friends’ faces. One taste was all she’d ever allow herself and it would have to be enough. Because Drake Donovan was not a man to be trifled with. He demanded and expected unquestioning obedience. That much was obvious in his demeanor.

She had to work tonight until closing, and no matter that her girls had told her she could always take a nap after giving them the scoop, Evangeline knew she didn’t have a prayer of going back to sleep. Not with the vivid details from the night before still playing over and over in real time in her memory.

No, she’d simply leave early and go on. Get caught up on some of the things that had piled up over the last few weeks and had been largely ignored by the other workers.

But first, she’d give her friends what they wanted—what they deserved—because they’d never held back from her, nor would they ever.

Then she’d worry about what to do about Drake Donovan. Just as soon as she looked up every piece of information she could find about just who this man was and what he could possibly want with someone as insignificant as her.