She was younger than I realized. Quinn. The name didn’t really suit her. To me, Quinn is one of those short, stocky, badass Irish dudes who fight in the octagons. This girl looked like she’d stepped out of a painting in a museum. I could almost believe I’d dreamt her. She had ivory skin and fine-boned features with high cheekbones and a little upturned nose with a natural flair. It made her look like she was always on the verge of emotion, whether it was anger, joy, or something a hell of a lot sexier. I’d never see anyone like her. She had platinum hair that definitely hadn’t come from a bottle. There were no dark roots and her brows matched. She arched one of them as she gave me side-eye, keeping her attention focused on the road ahead.

“Just head for the bridge,” I said. “There’s a little park at the base of it. It’s nice. Open.”

“Public?” she asked with that brow still arched. She gave me the hint of a smile. Goddammit, she was stunning. It took less than five minutes to get to the park. Quinn pulled into a spot near the water fountain. There were people all around but no one paid us any mind. She left the car running, but put it in park as she turned to face me. I wanted to cut the bullshit and hoped she did too.

“So,” I said running a thumb over the rough stubble covering my chin. “What the hell is somebody like you doing in Port Azrael and what’s your boyfriend doing taking pictures of my crew?”

Quinn’s eyelids fluttered. She had thick, blonde eyelashes and wore hardly any make-up. This girl had to be a supermodel or something. I never got around to asking Toby how he knew her. I couldn’t help letting my gaze flick downward. I hadn’t gotten a really good look at her last night. She was stacked, wearing a pink shirt cut low. When she turned, I saw the hint of her bra strap. It was siren red and my pulse quickened. Fuck. This kind of hassle would do me no good right now.

“Someone like me?” she asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I smiled and sat back, getting more comfortable. Man. I could sit here and look at this woman all day. She kind of reminded me of the early pictures I’d seen of Marilyn Monroe. The ones where she posed nude that found their way into Playboy. My jeans got a little tighter and I cracked my knuckles, trying to push the lust I felt aside.

“Look,” I said. “Quinn. I could give you the whole ‘be careful, you’re not from around here’ speech. I figure that’s what you expect me to say. You probably need to hear it. But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not stupid.”

“Gee,” she said, dropping her smile. “Thanks. And I think I’ve already given you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not just some mindless thug. I let you get in my car. You’re right. I’m not stupid.”

Shit. I’d pissed her off. I didn’t mean to. On the other hand, I loved the way her upper lip twitched as she tried to keep her cool. This chick had fire burning inside of her. With her looks, I figured she was used to people making assumptions about her, plenty. Though I felt a little like shit for offending her, I didn’t mind igniting that wildfire behind her eyes.

I leaned forward, narrowing the space between us. I could feel her hot breath against my cheek. Her mouth parted and I got a glimpse of the tip of her tongue as it darted out and she wet her bottom lip. Fuck.

“Fine,” I said. “So answer my question.”

She leaned back, reclaiming her personal space. She held my steady gaze and I respected her just that much more for it. “Noel isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my business partner.”

“Ah,” I said, drumming my fingers against the dashboard. It all started making sense. It wasn’t the first time somebody like Noel used somebody like Quinn as bait for the guys in my club. They figured we’d be good money and a solid business plan. Except, why the hell had he made her dress down and wear that stupid baseball cap?

“No,” she said, fuming. Clearly she was able to read enough in my posture to realize the conclusion I’d drawn. Her face went beet red. She was even easier to read. “Shit.” She sighed. “You think I’m a hooker, don’t you? Of course you do. I mean ... last night ... and today. Shit. What’s your name? Domino?” She made a circular motion with her index finger, pointing at the patch I wore.

“Yeah,” I answered. I held back my growing need to smile.

“I’m not,” she said, the fire in her eyes growing even hotter. “I’m not some prostitute, Domino.”

My turn to arch a brow at her. “Whatever you say.”

She slammed her palm against the steering wheel. Her horn gave a little bleat that drew some eyes from the joggers and walkers on the trail around the fountain. Quinn sucked in a hard breath.

“Listen,” I said. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I don’t judge. But I will give you a piece of advice. I think you want it because you came back looking for my club. Tell your, uh, business partner to watch his manners. He’s lucky Axle didn’t rip his face off last night. So, why don’t you tell me what the hell it is you want with the Saints?”

Her little nose twitched, reminding me of a jackrabbit sniffing a carrot. It was cute when I knew she was trying to be fierce. Well, she was a little bit fierce in spite of it. I couldn’t help it. I was intrigued. If she really was a pros, she didn’t belong with that asshole she brought to Woody’s. A woman like her would do better with someplace high-end. I had some contacts with a firm based out of D.C. that would go nuts for her. But even as I thought it, my blood started to heat with rage. A vision flashed through my mind of what Quinn would look like working. I found myself wanting to beat the shit out of any other guy who came near her.

Yep. This was definitely not good for business.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” she asked. She set her jaw to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

I flipped my palms up and shrugged. “You got me, honey.”

Quinn pursed her lips, showing a cavernous dimple in her left cheek. “I’m Quinn Larsen,” she said. “Your friend guessed right.”

When I didn’t react, she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not kidding, are you?” she finally asked. “I mean ... you don’t go to movies, read tabloids, I don’t know ... cruise the internet? Right. Of course you don’t.”

“Honey,” I said. “Just tell me what your deal is.”

“I’m an actress,” she said. “A pretty famous one, actually.”

“Congratulations,” I said. There came that fiery fury behind her eyes. I’m not ashamed to admit that’s exactly what I was angling for. I liked this girl feisty. It wasn’t hard to see she wasn’t used to this. If she was telling the truth, she was obviously used to getting whatever she wanted by using that name or that face. I was making her work for it and it had my heart beating double time.

“I’m here doing research for a movie I want to make. A part I want to play. It’s ... uh ... a lot different from the kind of thing people know me for. I’m hoping if we do it right, it’ll help me take my career in a whole new direction.”

She might as well have been talking Mandarin. I still had no idea what the hell any of this had to do with me or my club. So I asked her. “And you think I can help you with that?”

“Yes!” she said in almost a breathless whisper. “Yes,” she said more forcefully. “Shit. I’m not good at this. I’m not used to being the pitch person.”

“Let me guess, that’s Noel’s job?”

“Not exactly. I mean, ugh. This whole thing is new for both of us. I won’t bore you with all the back-end bullshit that goes into getting a movie made.”

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to explain hard stuff to someone like me, right?” I said, letting my voice drop low, giving it an edge that usually scared the shit out of people. Quinn didn’t flinch though. Instead, she let out that hard breath I’d quickly learned she did when she was frustrated. It was just too much damn fun watching her get more agitated. She must have seen something in my eyes, because the hint of a smile curved her mouth.

“Look,” she started again. “I told you. Pitching ideas isn’t my strong suit. This producer role is new for me. But it matters. This project matters.”

“Great,” I said. “So what does it have to do with me or my club?”

She was biting her lip again. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to work out what to say. I realized at that moment that if it was within my power to give it to her, I wanted to. I wanted to keep having a reason to see her. On the other hand, thinking with my dick probably wasn’t the wisest choice.

“Well,” she said. “It’s about your club. This movie. Well, not your club specifically. But a club. It’s a crime drama. You say you don’t know me. This movie, this part. It’s not what I’m known for. It’s serious. It’s substantial. It’s the kind of thing I want to be doing though. So we came here in part for a location scout. But more importantly, so I could maybe consult with someone ... like you ... so I don’t screw this up.”

She could have reared back and clocked me in the jaw. It would have been easier to take. This chick was cracked in the head. “You think I’m going to let you film my club?”

“No, not film,” she said. “Consult. Let me interview some of you. Some of the women that like to hang around you. Day-in-the-life stuff.”

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. “Honey, go back to Hollywood or wherever you came from.”

But she didn’t flinch. She just kept that hard, furious stare right at me. Crossing her arms in front of her, she shifted her position so she faced me straight on. “Will you just hear me out? This won’t cost you anything. I won’t get in your way. This movie is getting made one way or another. I want it to be real.”

“Real?” I said, dropping my smile. I leveled the hardest gaze at her I could. This time, she did flinch. “You wanna play biker banger for a day? Is that it?”

There was a toughness about this chick. It wasn’t like the kind I was used to in women. The bangers I mentioned, a lot of them had the shit kicked out of them by life from day one. They were territorial. Then there was Mama Bear. She was the most badass woman I’d ever known, surviving a tour in the Middle East as an army medic before she even married Bear. And she put up with all of us on a daily basis. But this woman ... Quinn was different. She looked like candy on the outside but there was something behind her eyes. Part fire, part steel. But she was vulnerable too. I saw it in her trembling lip that she tried to hide by biting it again.

“I told you,” she said, holding my gaze. “This movie is going to get made one way or the other. I want it to be honest. At least, as honest as it can be. I don’t want to make a cartoon or a caricature. And Noel was an idiot last night. I didn’t know he planned on whipping out his camera. That was rude. It won’t happen again.”

When she finished her little speech, I didn’t say a word. I just stared at her, studying every detail about her. She had long legs wrapped in tight jeans. I’d seen the curve of her sweet ass last night. She wore the same red heels this morning. A little flash of heat went through me, as I realized they matched her bra. Did she have panties to go with it? Or were those jeans so tight she hadn’t worn any?

I moved closer to her, putting my arm across the seat back. She didn’t stop me when I took a lock of her shimmering, platinum hair between my fingers. Man, it was soft, like silk. She smelled good too. Clean. Expensive. Her lips parted again and her breath caught. Two little dots of color came into her cheeks and her pupils grew wide. She had a pair of the most amazing blue eyes I’d ever seen. They were so pale, the back lines around her irises gave her an almost cat-like look.

She would taste good. I knew it. I slid my free hand along her jaw, gently pressing my thumb against her chin, drawing her mouth open. I could kiss this girl and change her world. I think she was used to living in the light. She’d never had anything as dark as me. It gave her a thrill she probably hadn’t expected. Hell, it gave me the same kind. I leaned in to kiss her, my face hovering no more than an inch from hers. Her eyes hooded and she tilted a little to the right, waiting for my move.

“Tell me, Quinn,” I said, letting my voice drop so low it sounded like a growl. “What’s in this for me?”

Quinn blinked wildly. That sweet, little pink tongue of hers darted in and out. I stayed still as stone, waiting for her answer. She sucked in a breath and put her hands flat on my chest. It was just an instant, but she let her fingers trail over the leather, tracing the outline of my patch.

Then she locked her elbows and pushed me back. “I told you,” she said, her cheeks still flaming red. “I’m not a hooker. You’d be a paid consultant. What I’m offering you, Mr. Domino, is a job.”

She was a little bit scared but her arousal was unmistakable. I could see her pebbled nipples poking through both her bra and the shirt. What I wouldn’t give to run my thumbs over them, drawing her out even more.

But I sat back, putting space between us. “A job?” I said.

“A job,” she said, swallowing. “As a technical consultant. It’s done all the time. The production company will draw up a contract with terms. We have a limited budget, but there’s maybe a little room to negotiate.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It bubbled up from a deep place and rumbled through my whole body. Quinn fixed that fiery stare at me until I got a hold of myself again.

“Honey,” I said. “You’re right. You’re not great at the pitch. As much as I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little better, my club’s not for sale. We’re not looking to go mainstream. Why don’t you head over to Laredo and see if your schtick works better on the Devil’s Hawks.”

I meant the last bit as a joke but the minute I said it, I wanted to take it back. She’d have no way of knowing I was kidding. Laredo was the last place a girl like her should go. But she was pissed enough not to really react to the details.

“Mr. Domino,” she started. I held up a hand.

“Domino,” I said. “Just ... Domino. Or Dom. Look. This has been fun. Good luck to you. I mean it. Sincerely. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to make your little project without any help from the Dark Saints. Let’s just say this kind of thing ain’t our style.”

“That’s the point,” she said, undaunted. “I want to know what your style is.”

I could think of a million comebacks for that line. As much as I wanted to spend more time with Quinn, play time was over. I opened the car door and stepped outside. The sun was bright and I slid my sunglasses on.

“Wait,” she said, ducking so she could see my face. “Let me at least drive you back.”

I shook my head. “It’s all good, Hollywood. I’ve got some business down here anyway. I can find my way back. I meant what I said. Good luck.”

Before Quinn could say anything else, I shut the door and headed for the other side of the fountain. I really did have a few businesses I needed to check on.

Though it killed me to turn my back on her, I knew Quinn watched me walk away. It made me feel a little like a damn tiger at the zoo. Was she interested in me, or just the patch I wore? Normally, I didn’t give a shit one way or the other. But I’d be lying if I said she hadn’t gotten under my skin just a bit.

By the time I rounded the corner, she’d pulled out of her parking spot and headed for the bridge. I finally stopped and turned. Now it was my turn to watch her leave. Though I couldn’t see anything through her tinted windows.

Quinn Larsen. I let the name simmer in my thoughts. She made it sound like I was supposed to know who she was. A famous actress. Well, who would have thought? Except it made perfect sense. No way a woman who looked like she did wasn’t famous for something.