It’s been five and a half years since I last stepped inside a club. Everything feels strange and unfamiliar. From the faceless crowd and the relentless, indecipherable buzz of conversation, to the flashing lights and the hard beat of the music moving up from the floor and through my body, jarring my bones and accelerating my pulse rate. I feel like I’m being jolted back to life again with every pounding note.

I’m sat at the bar between Anna and Manuel, two cocktails down and feeling the after affects already. It’s packed in here tonight. My head is spinning. I have to keep shutting my eyes to ground myself, to try and block out the heat and intensity all around me.

Glancing at the mirror beneath a row of vodka bottles I barely recognise myself. My long hair is falling like a dark, shimmering waterfall over my pale shoulders and my eyes are ringed with smoky eye shadow. The dress Anna lent me is so tight I had to pour myself into it earlier. It’s metallic silver, strapless, stupidly short and it makes my cleavage look ridiculous. Dante would never approve... For starters, it’s not white and the cut is way past the point of sexy, it’s obscene. “Not such an angel now,” I mutter, yanking it up again.

“Leave it, you look gorgeous,” Anna chides, sliding another neon pink cocktail over to me.

“It’s too tight. Corset tight! I feel like I’m in a Bronte novel.”

“Manuel, you’re a guy – tell Evie she looks great,” orders my friend, drawing the young Colombian into our discussion. He smiles but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t dare. It’s more than his life’s worth to pay me a compliment. He keeps his eyes fixed on my face so that they don’t stray downwards like every other man’s in the vicinity.

“Oh my god, I love this song, let’s dance!” cries Anna, jumping to her feet and shimmying seductively to Calvin Harris as his latest tune starts pumping from the speakers. Her red dress is even tighter than mine and all of a sudden Manuel’s eyes are nowhere near me anymore.

“Fine, I’m in,” I say, knocking back my cocktail in one hit as Anna gapes at me. The liquor burns the back of my throat and my eyes start watering as I slide off the stool and drag her to the edge of the dance floor.

“You look like a queen, señorita… his queen,” Manuel whispers to me as I pass.

I shoot him a quick smile in gratitude. He’s the only one in this club who knows my darkest of secrets.

“He never leaves your side, does he?” Anna muses, throwing him a backwards glance as we start to move. Manuel is standing over by the barrier now, his gaze constantly flickering over the crowd. Assessing the dangers, keeping me safe.

“I guess it’s a survivorship thing,” I shrug.

She mulls this over for a couple of beats. “Did you screw him in Africa?”

I stop dancing immediately. “Are you crazy? No way!”

“Why not?” Anna frowns. “He’s got that brooding sexy thing going on and I bet you were lonely in that place… anyway, he’s hot!”

“Then maybe you’re dancing with the wrong person!”

“Maybe I am,” she says, smirking at me.

Laughing, I turn back to Manuel and motion with my hand for him to come join us, and then I freeze. Manuel whips round to see what’s attracted my attention before his gaze snaps back to me. He’s by my side in an instant.

“What is it señorita?”

“I swear I just…” I trail off in bewilderment. I must be seeing things. I knew drinking alcohol again would be a bad idea.

It couldn’t be, could it?

But the tingle on my arms is unmistakable and there’s a slow, steady pulse unfurling between my legs. There’s only one man in the world whose nearness can influence my body like this. There’s only one with the same fluid, controlled movement, the same breadth of shoulder, the same tousled silky black hair that I’m constantly aching to run my fingers through. I only caught a glimpse as he made his way upstairs to the VIP lounge but it’s more than enough to convince me.

“Dante.” I whisper.

Manuel’s expression changes instantly. “Here?” He whips around again and scans the overheating crowds.

“Heading up the stairs.” The club is really starting to spin now. I clutch his arm to steady myself.

“Are you certain it was him?” Manuel’s eyes rake across my face searching for traces of ambiguity or hesitation.

“I have to find him.”

“Ok, señorita.”

Splintered thoughts flitter through my mind as Manuel guides me over to the spiral staircase next to the bar.

What’s Dante doing back in Miami?

Why didn’t he come and find me?

“You can’t go up there.” A beefy-looking guy in a cheap black suit and tie slaps his arm across Manuel’s chest.

“Get your damn hands off of me!” The Colombian pushes the club bouncer away and reaches underneath the back of his shirt for his gun.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Anna comes rushing up to us and Manuel drops his arm.

“You know these people, Anna?” The bouncer loses his tough-guy act immediately. My friend looks so sexy he even attempts a smile at her.

“We need to get up to the VIP area, Anna,” I say quickly. “Can you help us?”

She nods. “Hey Sammy, let my friends through, ok?”

“Sure thing, honey,” he grins, standing to one side as if it’s the easiest decision in the world.

“What’s going on?” she asks as we hurry up the stairs together.

“I thought I saw some guy I used to work with. I wanted to speak to him about a job.”

Anna buys it immediately. I’m an ace at spinning lies these days.

We reach the VIP area and scan the crowds of sports stars and celebrities together.

“What does this guy look like?”

“Tall, dark…”

Lethal.

In other circumstances all the paparazzi magnets here tonight would have impressed me. Anna works at one of the hottest clubs in Miami and the clientele reflects this but the man I’m searching for is more savagely beautiful than any of them. I can’t see him anywhere, though. He’s close by I can feel it. He just hasn’t revealed himself to me yet…

We’re starting to attract attention now. One famous A-Lister seems particularly hot for my friend. “Hey sexy! Come sit with us a while,” he drawls at Anna, patting the empty space on the sofa next to him. Manuel stiffens as she smiles vaguely in his direction.

“No thanks.”

The guy shrugs and turns back to his companions as another movie star tries his luck.

“Ugh, guys, I’m done being a sleaze magnet up here,” Anna hisses after coolly dispensing with him as well. “I need another drink. Give me a holler when you find him, Evie… Fancy keeping me company whilst our girl chats business?” she adds casually to Manuel.

“Perhaps later,” he smiles, softening the blow as much as he can. “I think I just need to hang out with Señorita Eve a little more first.”

“You know you don’t have to keep calling her that,” she huffs before turning on her high heels and stomping back down the stairs.

I shoot Manuel a sympathetic look. He just shrugs. He knows his priorities. One of the most dangerous men in the world has entrusted him to keep his woman, his angel, safe. There’s no way in hell he’s going to screw it up by having a flirt-a-thon with her friend.

I scan the crowds again. One dark-haired guy in particular keeps catching my attention. He’s older than most, early-forties, and attractive in a lean, mean, angular kind of a way. He’s also dressed-to-kill in one of the sharpest midnight blue suits I’ve ever seen and there’s a powerful, dangerous vibe about him that reminds me more than a little of Dante.

He’s stretched out across the best sofa in the VIP area, with a tumbler of hard liquor in one hand and an equally hard-looking blonde in the other. As I watch, she kicks off her shoes and drapes a long tan leg over his crotch as she wriggles closer. Now, she’s straddling him and throwing her long, dyed hair back and giggling for effect. How much does she charge, I wonder.

The whole sordid scene changes abruptly when he catches me staring. The smile dies on his lips and he tips the blonde off his lap immediately. She lands on her ass with an indignant squawk but he doesn’t seem to hear. Either that, or he doesn’t care.

He’s moving towards us now, his icy blues never once leaving my face. I hear Manuel curse and reach for his gun again.

“We need to go, señorita now.”

“Why, who is he?”

Too late. Four man-mountains have swooped in out of nowhere, positioning themselves like a wall of steel behind us and blocking our exit. I can smell their cheap aftershave and deodorant. At the same time I feel a tight grip on my shoulder and the unforgiving sensation of a weapon pressed up against the hollow of my back.

This can’t be happening. It’s like my life has hit some shitty reverse button.

The man stops in front of us and nods at his men to let me go. He makes no move to touch me or shake my hand. Instead, he slides his hands deeper into his pockets as if he doesn’t quite trust himself and can’t face the penalty of a slip-up. My heart rate quickens. Dante’s been marking his territory again.

“Helen of Troy, I presume?”

“Why did you call me that?”

He smiles slightly. “The face that launched a thousand ships? I suggest you read up on your Greek mythology, Miss Miller. I figured you’d be beautiful but I never imagined… this.” He sweeps his eyes over me appreciatively. “Rick Sanders. I believe we have a mutual friend in common. I’m a former business partner of his.”

“I didn’t realize Dante had any friends,” I say, arching my eyebrows at him.

Rick laughs. “Not many and their numbers have certainly dwindled in recent months.”

“Former business partner?”

Is this man working for Emilio now?

“Not much escapes you, I see. He told me you were smart… I used to run the operational side of his business in Florida.”

“Traitor,” Manuel hisses.

Rick turns to acknowledge my bodyguard. “I assure you that I am no traitor. Not to Dante Santiago. I’m perfectly content with all four of my limbs, thank you very much…” His lips curve again as removes his right hand from his trouser pocket, extending it in his direction. “Dante speaks highly of you, Manuel.”

The Colombian seems to relax and swell with pride all at the same time. He takes Rick’s hand briefly.

“Tell me where he is, Mr. Sanders,” I say, trying to sound casual and failing. My craving for him is too strong.

Rick eyes flicker back to me and I see a flash of sympathy there. “Please… will you join me for a moment first.” He indicates to his sofa where the sulky blonde is easing her hurt pride by knocking back his champagne as fast as she can. “Beat it, baby,” he snarls at her and she scoops up her red heels and disappears immediately. Rick Sanders clearly isn’t a man to mess with.

He sits down opposite us and clicks his fingers at the waiting staff.

“How is he?” I ask him, desperate for crumbs of information. I can’t cope with knowing that Dante has been so near to me tonight… watching, devouring…

Leaving.

“Better than he was,” Rick says tactfully, turning to address the pretty waitress who’s appeared next to him. “More champagne, please, sweetheart… You’ll be pleased to hear that he’s acquired himself an island. I’ve just spent the last five weeks out there in his company.”

“Why did you come back?”

Rick grins again. “Not all of us can stay celibate for that length of time, Miss Miller. Neither can we stay committed to just one woman.” I feel those mocking eyes on me again, swirling over my face with interest. At me. The woman who has bought the great Dante Santiago to his knees. “Besides, I have other business interests that require my attention. This happens to be one of my clubs.”

“How’s his shoulder?”

“Healing.”

Is he ever coming back for me?

I want to ask the question so badly but I’m terrified of the answer. Instead, I watch Rick pour out three flutes of champagne and hand one to me. Manuel waves his away.

“To Dante Santiago,” he declares.

I return the toast and drink deeply, more out of nerves than anything else.

“What about the other problem?” Manuel asks. He’s still looking tense. Despite Rick’s charm and claims of unswerving loyalty I can tell he’s still undecided about him.

“Evading termination.” He leans forward to snap open the front button of his jacket. His expression doesn’t look quite so genial anymore.

“And their business?” I ask.

“Currently being ripped apart by circling vultures. I think it’s safe to say that the Santiago reign is over. Still, between you and me I’m not sure Dante’s heart was in it anymore…” My head jerks up. Rick is appraising me above the rim of his flute. “I believe he’s exploring new ventures these days.”

“What sort of ventures?”

“Now, that would be telling.” He smirks and taps a long finger against the side of his glass.

Still illegal then.

“Is he watching me right now?”

“He’s always watching you, Miss Miller. All angles. Twenty-four hours a day. But you knew that already.”

“Is he here in your club?”

Rick pauses a fraction too long.

“Then why doesn’t he want to see me?”

“I can’t answer that, Miss Miller.”

“Then fuck you!” Banging my flute down on the glass table, I rise to my feet and walk quickly towards a black door labeled ‘private’. I’d already scoped it out when we first arrived.

“Miss Miller… Eve… stop!”

Ignoring him I smack my palms against the door and find myself in the club’s security room. There are dozens of monitors mounted on the wall depicting hundreds of people but not a soul in here. I can still smell him, though. There’s a lingering trace of his aftershave in the air. It’s like he’s left it behind to taunt me with.

“Damn you, Dante,” I whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m sorry, Eve.” Rick appears in the doorway behind me, looking sheepish.

“He told you to stall me, didn’t he?” I say bitterly. “He knew I’d seen him. He needed the time to slip away. Why?”

Is this it?

Has Dante changed his mind?

Does he ever want to see me again?

Rick just shrugs. “Things are a mess for him right now. You know he has his reasons.”

“Yeah, he’s always got plenty of those.” I push past him and head for the stairs with Manuel following close behind.

Anna catches up with us as I’m heading for the cloakroom to collect my coat. “Hey, did you find that guy you were looking for?” She looks down and sees my ticket in my hand. “Oh, where do you think you’re going?”

“I think horseback riding was more than enough excitement for me,” I say, forcing a yawn and a smile.

She concedes with a sigh, enveloping me in a quick hug. She knows that today has been a huge step forward. “I’m still proud of you, even though you’re ditching me at 10pm on a Saturday night. You ok if I stay awhile longer? Shall I get the guys behind the bar to call you a cab?”

“Thanks but no need. There are a couple outside already.”

“I can’t tempt you to stay?” she says turning to Manuel but he shakes his head. Poor guy. I can sense his inner struggle from all the way over here.

Anna goes to say something else and then I see her gaze shift to just over my left shoulder. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open to form a perfect ‘o’. “Holy shit, Evie, you have got to get a load of this man,” she whispers.

I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. I don’t even need to see Manuel take a diplomatic step away from me. All of a sudden my every nerve is on fire. That beat has exploded between my legs and I’m quivering with lust even before the rich, potent scent of his masculinity hits my senses. Once there was a time when it produced nothing but fear and revulsion in me. Now it’s a guaranteed hotline to red-hot heat and promise.

“Hello, my angel,” he purrs softly into my ear, his voice so velvety-smooth and deadly and so goddamn sexy I want to drop to my knees and worship it. “Have you missed me?”