Lena

I'm so proud of Jase. I know how nervous he was, but the crowd loved him. It doesn't hurt that he's easily the sexiest guy here, with his broad shoulders, smoldering eyes, and confident swagger.

"Hey, Lena, is that you?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Travis, a linebacker for the new Vegas football team, who's also a former client of mine. Another former client, hockey star Brent Wallace, is standing beside him, both of them with drinks in hand. We're free to mingle until the dinner service, and Travis has a glint in his eye that says he wouldn't mind mingling with me in ways I'd rather not think about. He heads toward me, people scattering in his wake, and brings Brent with him.

I scan the room, but there's no way I can dodge them, so I resign myself to brushing off Travis's lame-ass pickup lines. In a lot of ways, he isn't a bad guy. There are many worse. But he's spoiled, self-centered, and never learned to take "no" for an answer. Especially where women are concerned.

"Nice to see you, gorgeous," he says, ducking to kiss my cheek, where he lingers long enough for me to grow uncomfortable. He gives me a once over, pausing on my chest. "You look great, as always. Do you know my buddy Brent?"

"Yes." I offer a hand to Brent, who shakes it. He's quieter than Travis, more the brooding type, and while he's easier to deal with, he unsettles me. "Good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Travis asks, crowding closer. "Brent, why don't you get her a drink?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine, thanks." I'm not drinking anything either of these two give me. Not that I necessarily think they'd slip me something, I just don't fully trust them. They're accustomed to doing whatever they want, and having someone else clean up their mess. Someone like me.

"So, why are you here?" Travis persists, sipping his wine. "Did you decide you want in on some of the action yourself?"

"Hardly." I laugh. "You know this isn't my scene." I don't want to reveal too much personal information to them, but I'm getting the impression I should dissuade Travis's interest as quickly as possible. "I'm here with someone."

"With someone." He tests the words, as though they're unfamiliar. "Like a date?"

"No. Yes." I sigh. "He's a client."

If anything, the interest in his eyes intensifies. "I thought you liked to keep your personal life separate from work."

Generally, I do, so I can't argue the point. But then an arm is circling my waist and I'm being pulled into the shelter of a male body.

"Cutie pie." A masculine voice rumbles beside my ear, and I shiver. Jase. Thank God. "Introduce me to your friends."

Turning in his arms, my hands go to his chest. His jaw is tight, eyes narrowed on the two men across from me, who are staring, rapt. Smoothing a hand on Jase's cheek, I redirect his face down to me. Immediately, his jaw loosens and he smiles.

"You were great up there," I tell him, and after glancing around to make sure no one has a camera aimed our way, I stretch onto my tiptoes for a kiss. I only intend for it to be a brief touching of lips, but he secures me against him and ravages me so thoroughly I know I'll need to fix my lipstick. When he pulls away, there's a smear of red in the corner of his mouth and I wipe it off with my thumb. I want to be annoyed at him for kissing me like that in full view of everyone, but it's hard to be mad when my body is zinging with attraction and my hormones are going crazy.

"Thanks, baby." He turns back to Travis and Brent, wearing a cocky, challenging grin. "Sorry, remind me what your names are?"

To my utter surprise, Travis sticks his hand out, eyes wide with hero worship. "Travis McMillan, pro football player. It's such an honor to meet you. I saw your fight against Jarrod Hamilton live. So. Fucking. Savage."

Some of the tension fades from Jase's body, and I stop worrying he's about to grab one of them in a stranglehold and undo all of the good we've accomplished tonight. "Always nice to meet a fan. You ever fought?"

"Nah." Travis shakes his head. "I've considered it, but football is more my speed. Doesn't mean I don't love watching though. How are you feeling about the championship bout next week?"

Jase shrugs. "Can't spill my secrets ahead of time." He jerks his chin at Brent. "How about you? What's your story?"

Brent grabs Jase's hand a little too eagerly. "Brent Wallace. I play for the Golden Knights in the NHL."

"Huh. A hockey man." The way he says this, it's impossible to tell if he's impressed or not. "What position?"

"Defense."

"Nice."

Travis glances my way, expression incredulous. "You're dating Jase Rawlins?"

"Yeah." There's no point lying now, although I feel like I should be insulted by his incredulity. "It's just new."

"But it's good," Jase adds, pulling me closer. His hand, now free from the manly shaking, settles on my hip in a way no one could mistake for friendly. I manage not to roll my eyes, but it's obvious he's marking his territory. Frankly, it's a little ridiculous. The moment he appeared, neither of the men could have been less interested in me.

Brent leans in, his expression something other than blank for once. "How did it feel to fight Rory MacIlraith?"

Jase replies, but I don't hear him because I've zeroed in on the man approaching from behind Travis and Brent. My blood turns icy, and I dig my fingernails into my palm. I'd happily never see that man ever again, but he walks steadily toward us, his dark blond hair brushed back from his face, emphasizing sharp cheekbones and a cleft chin. People hurry to get out of his way. No one wants to get between Killer Karson Hayes and his destination, which appears to be me. And that's when I notice the woman at his side. Jase's ex, Erin. Well, fuck. That can't be good. Especially since I haven't come clean with Jase about who my ex is or why I ended things. I break out in a cold sweat.

"Rawlins."

My jaw locks in place. I can't open it. Can't speak. Karson has this way of talking as though everyone is beneath him. It's a bored, condescending drawl.

Asshole.

Jase meets his eyes, and the guys he's been speaking to step aside, watching excitedly, like they expect a brawl to break out right in front of them.

"Hayes," Jase replies with a nod. I've always thought the way men do that is stupid. What's the point of it? His gaze lowers to Erin, who is dressed spectacularly, in a short black dress and stunning heels. She leans into Karson, looking like the gold-digger I suspect she is.

Girl, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into.

Even though I don't like Erin, I want to warn her that Karson is bad news. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of his shitty behavior. But I can't exactly say that right now.

"Erin," Jase continues, his tone chilling further. "You're a piece of work."

Erin doesn't reply—she doesn't have the chance because Karson gets there first. "I see you're enjoying my cast-offs." Vengefulness glimmers in his shark-like eyes. "You look fresh from the trailer park, Lena." His brow quirks. "Have I seen that dress before?"

Oh man, I'm in for it now. I wish like hell the floor would dissolve beneath me so I don't have to hear what's coming.

He cocks his head, relishing my obvious horror. "In fact, I think I bought it."

Yeah, there it is. He shoots, he scores. Jase stiffens beside me, but he doesn't give away his shock—a fact I appreciate immensely. But then I notice his hands are fisted, and he's poised and ready to pounce. Oh, shit. He's not going to get into a fight on my account, is he? Pain throbs behind my temples. No, no, no.

"I traded up," Jase says, stroking a hand over my hip like he's trying to reassure me. I don't find his expression reassuring in the least. "From where I'm standing, it looks like you traded down." He gestures at Erin. "You've got to watch that one. She'll have a knife in your back the minute you turn it."

Karson bares his teeth in a frightening grin. The one I see in my nightmares. "I like girls with a little fight in them. Makes it even hotter when they break."

I try not to cower. I try so damn hard. But he gives me a cold, calculating look. He knows he's getting to me, and he likes it. Fucker. Jase must sense it too, because the hand that's been stroking me stills, and he curves his body around mine, shielding me from my ex. I turn into him, and he gently touches my chin, raising my eyes to his. They're soft and concerned, but there's fire flickering behind them. He's angry.

No, he's furious.

"You want to get out of here, cutie pie?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

My voice is a quiet rasp, but he hears me and looks over at Karson. "We've got better places to be," he says. "See you in the cage, loser."

And then he's whisking me from the room, out the side exit to avoid cameras. When we're on the sidewalk, I just stand there and shiver while he summons a taxi, then drapes his jacket over me.

"What do you need?" he asks.

I blink up at him, determined not to cry. "Ineed you. Can we just be together?"