“I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri, light on the alcohol, please,” I say, playing it safe. As usual.

“And I’ll have a Coke,” Lia says.

“Coke for me, too,” Sam says.

Lia and Sam can’t agree on who’s got bodyguard duty tonight, so they’re both abstaining from alcohol. I swear, sometimes those two remind me of dogs fighting over a bone – and I guess that makes me the bone.

“What are you smiling about?” Lia says, giving me a look.

I shake my head, fighting to keep a straight face. “Nothing.”

Having a bodyguard with me everywhere I go has taken some getting used to. My days of going out and exploring my beloved home city of Chicago by myself are long gone. I guess it’s one of the consequences of being the fiancée of a very wealthy man – one with a bit of a colorful past, as he occasionally reminds me.

When it’s her turn to order, Erin straightens her spine. “I’ll have a Blow Job.”

Everyone at our table bursts into laughter as Erin’s face turns beet red. I doubt she’s ever said the words blow and job in the same sentence before in her life.

 “God, Erin, you just had to say that, didn’t you?” Lia says, shaking her head.

Gina and Gabrielle both order Blow Jobs, too, and our server heads to the bar to place our drink orders.

 “You don’t both have to be on duty tonight,” I say to Lia and Sam. “Why don’t you guys flip a coin? The winner can cut loose and have fun this evening, while the loser has to babysit me.”

Lia shrugs. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Me too,” Sam says.

Tonight is sort of an impromptu celebration of my engagement to Shane. It’s not exactly a bachelorette party, but it’s close enough. As I gaze at the five friends seated at the table, I’m amazed at how my life has changed in the past six months.

Before I met Shane, I spent my days working at a medical school library, and then I came home every evening to an empty townhouse to either watch TV or read as I ate a reheated meal that my roommate, Gabrielle – and at that time my only friend – had prepared for me (one of the benefits of living with a sous chef). I was perfectly content then, even if I was lonely. I had my books, my book boyfriends, and on Fridays after work, I’d treat myself to a long, leisurely evening at my favorite bookstore downtown.

I was happy. I didn’t really mind being alone so much. With my history of anxiety and fear of intimacy, I’d resigned myself to being alone. But then, one Friday evening, I met Shane McIntyre at Clancy’s Bookshop and began to quickly realize what I’d been missing out on.

At the time, I thought it was just an accidental meeting – something right out of a romance novel. You know, a guy meets a girl, and sparks fly. Now, looking back, I have to smile. Nothing Shane does is ever just by accident.

And tonight, I’m seated at a table in a crowded downtown Chicago nightclub, surrounded by friends – good friends – enjoying a girls’ night out, and I couldn’t be happier.

Well, the girls plus Sam. I guess you could say Sam’s an honorary member of our little group. We gave him a choice. He could either hang out with us girls tonight for dinner and dancing, or he could join the guys for a poker game at my soon-to-be brother-in-law Jamie’s new apartment. Sam opted for dancing, which didn’t surprise me one bit.

Our server brings our drinks to the table. Gina, Erin and Gabrielle all gush over their Blow Jobs. I admit their shots look awfully good, and I’m tempted to try one myself. I know I need to get out of my comfort zone more often.

Despite all the giggling and good-natured ribbing at the table, the three of them make a big show of pulling back their hair, putting their hands behind their backs, and tossing back their shots, hands-free. With all the laughter and spillage, I’m surprised none of them chokes.

“Come on, Beth,” Erin says, laughing as she wipes whipped cream and Kahlua off her nose. “You’ve got to get one of these next time. They’re awesome!”

I shake my head laughing. Erin’s barely old enough to drink, and now she thinks she’s an expert on shots.

After finishing their shots and cleaning up the mess, the girls announce they’re heading for the dance floor, which is a crowded mass of gyrating, sweaty bodies. The music is booming, and the whole building seems to be vibrating to the beat. They try to talk me into joining them, but I pass. I’m not much of a dancer – at least not that kind of dancing.

“Come on, dance with us!” Gina says, playfully tugging my hand. “It’ll be fun.”

I shake my head, grinning, and I practically have to shout to be heard over the sound system. “No, thanks! I’ll watch!”

Sam stands with a pained huff of resignation. “I’ll go with them. Just to make sure they don’t get pawed by drunks on the dance floor.”

I nod, grinning at him. “You do that.”

Sam’s not fooling anyone. He just likes to dance.

Lia is more than content to stay behind with me and hold down the fort. She and I are alike in so many ways. My future sister-in-law doesn’t like crowds any more than I do.

My phone flashes with an incoming message, and before I can even pick it up, Lia grabs it off the table. She peers at the screen in disgust, then hands it to me. “My God, he’s such a baby. He can’t let you out of his sight for more than ten minutes without checking up on you.”

He, of course, is Shane, my fiancé and Lia’s eldest brother and boss. If she only knew the half of it. Shane didn’t want me coming here tonight at all – at least not without him. It took a lot of coaxing on my part just to get him to agree to this little outing. He tends to be overprotective, but honestly I don’t mind. I like him when he’s in his bossy mode. Besides, Shane takes care of his own – whether it’s friends or family or employees… or me. That’s just the way he is.

I smile just picturing him having his own boys’ night out tonight, playing poker and drinking beer with his brothers, with his best friend Cooper, and with Lia’s new boyfriend, Jonah.

I glance down at Shane’s text, which is short and to the point:

Ready to come home?

I laugh, because we’ve been here less than an hour. We spent two hours at a restaurant earlier this evening, chatting over a leisurely dinner, before coming to this nightclub to relax and let loose. I’m not really the letting-loose type, but I am having fun watching my friends have fun.

But it’s still early and everyone’s having fun. I’m not ready to call it a night yet.

My reply:

Not yet. Relax and enjoy your poker game.

His reply:

That’s easier said than done.

Mine:

Don’t worry. I’m with Lia and Sam.

His:

But I miss you.

I roll my eyes at his last message, but inside I’m melting. Some little girls dream of Prince Charming. As a child haunted by a real-life nightmare, I dreamed of a knight in shining armor, a protector – someone to vanquish my monster. And that’s exactly what Shane did. He killed my monster – literally. He is my knight in shining armor. It’s totally sappy, I know, but I don’t care.

One last message comes in.

All right, sweetheart, I’ll leave you alone. Have fun and be safe.

I glance over at Lia, who’s been watching our text conversation over my shoulder, and she shakes her head in dismay. At least she didn’t roll her eyes this time or tell us to get a room. I think we’re making progress.

The music is deafening, and it’s hard for us to hear ourselves think, let alone hold a conversation, so we sit in companionable silence and watch our friends out on the dance floor. The girls are attracting a lot of male attention – no surprise there – and true to his word, Sam is keeping a close eye, practically hovering over them and giving the evil eye to any guys who get too close.

Sam’s also a protector. He became my full-time bodyguard just a few weeks ago, when Lia was reassigned to guard Jonah Locke. At the time, Lia hadn’t really wanted to serve as bodyguard to a celebrity. Screaming fan girls and relentless paparazzi are not her idea of a good time. But then she fell in love with the guy, and now they’re inseparable.

I notice Sam’s attracting more than his fair share of attention out on the dance floor. He’s an incredibly attractive guy. With that gorgeous red hair of his and those lean muscles, not to mention the subtle, yet edgy tattoos and piercings, he certainly stands out in a crowd.

I watch as Sam skillfully deflects attention from both women and men, fending off advances from both genders with a congenial smile. It makes me realize how little I know about his personal life. He never mentions a boyfriend, or even an occasional hook-up. At twenty-eight, he’s in his prime, so why does he turn down every invitation he gets?

After I finish my daiquiri, I find myself in desperate need of the ladies’ room.

“I’ll be right back,” I shout to Lia as I rise from my seat, hoping she can read my lips. I slip my phone into my pocket and gesture toward the sign pointing the way to the restrooms. “Bathroom break.”

Lia knocks back the last of her soft drink and sets her empty glass down with a thunk. Then she stands. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s no need. Stay and relax. I won’t be long.”

She gives me a pointed look, and I know I might as well be talking to a brick wall. She’s coming with me, whether I want her to or not. “Okay, fine.”

Not surprisingly, there’s a line outside the ladies’ restroom, so we have to wait a few minutes. As we stand in the queue, I notice Lia’s reading an incoming message on her phone and texting back a reply.

I peer over her shoulder, which isn’t hard to do as I have several inches over Lia in height. “Is that from Jonah?”

This time she does roll her eyes. “I swear, he’s getting as bad as Shane. I sure as hell don’t need someone checking up on me.”

I bump her shoulder with mine, grinning at her. “He misses you, that’s all.”

Lia and Jonah have been together only for a short while, and we’re all still getting used to the idea of Lia having a boyfriend. Shane was afraid it would never happen. Lia has always been so standoffish with anyone outside our tight-knit circle of family and friends. It took a bona fide rock star to break through her protective walls and reach the girl inside. Looking at the stupid grin on her face as she replies to Jonah’s text, I have to smile myself. She’s not quite as immune to Jonah’s charms as she likes to think.

The line moves pretty quickly, and soon we’re both inside the ladies’ room and taking care of business. It’s an upscale club – one of Shane’s requirements for this evening – and the bathroom is clean and well maintained.

I wash and dry my hands at the counter, and while I’m waiting for Lia, I do my best to tidy my ponytail. I’m not one to fuss over my hair or make-up. I’m smoothing out the peach-colored fabric of my above-the-knee Bohemian dress when I hear a vaguely familiar, deceptively friendly voice behind me.

“Well, if it isn’t Cinderella. We meet again, and in the ladies’ room no less. How déjà vu.” Underneath those sultry tones is a barely disguised hint of contempt.

I look up into the mirror and see the reflection of the woman standing directly behind me. I’m pretty tall for a girl, at five-eight, but this woman towers over me. She’s stunningly exotic, with her long, straight dark hair and dark, kohl-lined eyes. For a moment, I can’t place her. She looks familiar, but I can’t – oh, right. Luciana Morelli, one of Shane’s ex-girlfriends. I remember her now. We met back in the summer at a Children’s Hospital charity event. Just the memory of our encounter – which also took place in the ladies’ room – makes me flush hotly, and I suddenly feel queasy.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, smiling politely. Then I head for the exit, wanting to put as much space between us as I can. Our last conversation left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I’m not looking for a repeat.

My heart’s pounding as I make my escape. I know Lia’s going to give me hell for leaving without her, but I really don’t want to be in the same room with that woman a moment longer than I have to.