Nate joined me on the pavement and snaked an arm behind me to rest a hand on my lower back. “Are you ready?” he whispered against my ear.
There were people everywhere, each of them dressed as though they had just stepped out of the pages of Vogue or GQ magazine. Feeling out of my element, I fiddled with the fabric of my dress as we walked towards the entrance.
We were a few meters from the entrance when a flash of white light momentarily blinded me. I stumbled on my heels and twisted, knocking into Nate’s firm chest. His arms immediately enveloped me protectively, holding me tight. “Jesus, Liv. Are you okay?” he asked softly.
From the crowd of people someone shouted, “Look, it’s Nathan Oakes!” More lights began flashing, blinding me with their persistent intensity. I closed my eyes and burrowed my face instinctively into Nate’s crisp white shirt. “Nathan! Nate! Over here. Will you sign this for me?”
“Oh my god, it is him.”
“Nate, you’re the best. Please sign this for me.”
“I love you, Nate.”
The shouts and calls became louder and more tireless with each step we took towards the door. It hadn’t occurred to me that we might come across Nate’s fans. To me he was still just Nate, my personal trainer, not someone who would create a frenzy of attention from hordes of screaming fans. Yet that’s what he got.
“Who’s the lovely lady, Nathan? Needing a little pre-fight tension release are you?”
Next to me, Nate stiffened and murmured something under his breath, his hold on me intensified. I risked opening an eye and saw a man rushing towards us flanked by a guy pointing a massive Nikon in our direction.
“Phillips, from Fight Club Monthly,” the reporter exclaimed with a smirk, sticking his hand out. Nate ignored it.
“What are your thoughts on Sanchez’s allegations?” Phillip’s asked.
“No comment,” Nate growled and started walking towards the entrance again, gripping my hand in his and tugging me along with him.
“He claims this is a grudge match that goes beyond losing the previous fight. Is he right, Nate?”
“No comment.”
With the pace Nate was striding across the concrete, I struggled to keep up with him in my heels. My vision was still blurry from the flashing lights and my head spun from the breakneck speed of events. I wasn’t sure what Phillips knew, or thought he knew, but whatever it was, Nate seemed unwilling to discuss it.
Around us the hollers and catcalls of fans grew louder and more relentless as Nate’s fans closed in on us. I had the overwhelming urge to yell, ‘Shut the fuck up!’ and storm off into the club. But as the person on Nate’s arm, I realised it wouldn’t look good for him, especially with a reporter sniffing around for a story. So, I kept my expression passive and tried my best to keep up with him without tripping and falling flat on my arse.
As we neared the entrance, security finally realised that chaos was breaking out around them and came rushing out, pushing people back and stopping them from getting any closer.
“Young lady, how do you feel about being connected to the Nathan Oakes?”
Realising that question had been aimed at me, my mouth opened but Nate’s brusque voice stopped me from responding. He turned murderous eyes on the reporter. “Leave her alone. Any questions you have should be to me, you hear me?” Then, without another word, he grabbed my hand and steered us towards the entrance.
“Scared you’ll lose another one, Nate?” The reporter shouted out. Nate stiffened and cursed under his breath but kept us walking.
“I can answer for myself you know,” I seethed.
“You need to fucking stay away from the press, Olivia.” I stumbled, taken aback by the iciness of his tone.
“Nate!” the reporter called out over the shoulder of a burly bouncer with a shaved head and mean face. “Sanchez is claiming this is a grudge match, something to do with the death of his father in Brazil?” Nate dropped my hand and spun round.
“Note this down,” he snarled, his voice dark, dangerous, and dripping in venom. The doorman stepped to the side allowing Nate to move to stand toe to toe with Phillips. “Sanchez is a fucking pussy. He will come out with whatever bullshit he thinks will help him. He’s lost to me before, he will lose again!”
The guy smirked, clearly pleased with Nate’s reaction. “And his father?” he asked raising a brow.
“No comment!” Nate hissed pushing his face close to the other guy’s. “No fucking comment.”
A moment later, Nate was back at my side, pulling me into the darkness of the club. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as he walked with angry purpose towards the bar, never once looking at me.
***
The glass tumbler crashed down on to the bar making me flinch. With a wave of his hand, Nate gestured towards the barman for a refill. He hadn’t spoken a word since his altercation with the journalist, other than to order me a glass of champagne and a whiskey for him. I opened my mouth to deliver some smart comment about feeding his body with unnecessary calories and toxins but the menace in his eyes told me I needed to keep my thoughts to myself.
With one hand supporting his weight as he leaned on the bar, Nate gulped back the entire contents of his second glass and groaned. His eyes were pinched tightly closed and his jaw was tense. Standing with his head slung back, he appeared tortured and distant. The man in front of me wasn’t the Nathan Oakes, I knew. That cool, calm and controlled man was gone.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, shouting over the pounding beat of the music. There were so many thoughts racing around my mind. I was curious about the reporter’s questions, concerned over Nate’s reaction and confused by our meal together. But the overriding feeling I had was the need to comfort and support him. Reaching for his arm, I stroked my fingertips softly across the skin, exposed because he’d ditched his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Under my touch, I felt rather than heard his deep inhalation of breath before he shook his head. His lips moved, a visual indication of the words I couldn’t hear, but what really spoke to me, telling me he wasn’t prepared to discuss things, was the tension radiating off him.
Taking a step back, my hand fell limply to my side. I was unsure what I could do or say to rescue the evening, if I could rescue the evening. The situation only emphasised the fact I knew so little about Nathan Oakes. He’d always been such a private, self-contained person around me. I didn’t know how to deal with him, or how to help him.
I maintained my gaze on Nate’s stiff, unrelenting posture for several minutes, hoping and praying with each change of song that he would come back to me, that he would let his fury go enough that he could enjoy his evening.
“Nate, this is stupid, let it go,” I eventually yelled into his ear, moving in close.
Nate twisted his head so we were almost nose-to-nose and speared me with his vivid grey eyes that appeared even more moody and dark in the gloom of the club.
“Stay out of this, Liv,” he growled through clenched teeth.
My back straightened and my shoulders arched back as nervous instincts took over. I didn’t fear Nate, not really, but this new side of him had all my internal warning bells ringing out loudly. One thing he’d taught me during our training sessions was to never show your aggressor any weakness, to never let them know they had won. I had no intentions of letting this side of Nate win.
“Nate, you—”
I jerked away when a pair of hands covered my eyes from behind and with a racing pulse, I swung around and gasped, my eyes widening.
“Surprise!”
“Cassie? What are you doing here?” I shrieked, beaming at my new friend. It was so good to see a familiar face.
Cassie eyed Nate leaning against the bar and frowned. “What’s eating him?”
“We got hounded by a reporter on the way in. He didn’t take it well.” I looked over my shoulder to see Nate gesturing towards the barman again, ordering yet another drink.
“Fuc
king reporters,” he said.
“Woah, Nate, what the hell are you doing? You never drink this close to a fight.” Cassie shot past me and grabbed the glass as the barman was handing it over.
“This has nothing to do with you, Cass. Give me the fucking drink.” Nate reached around but Cassie pushed on his chest.
“No. What has gotten into you? The press never bother you this much?”
I stood back, watching the interaction between the two, wondering what their relationship was. How had I never noticed something between them before? I also wondered what she was doing there.
“Yeah well the press don’t usually come at me with the shit this guy did.” Nate frowned.
I tuned them out as Cassie probed Nate for more information and grabbed the attention of the barman for a drink of my own. With Nate and Cassie still talking, I backed up against a wall and sipped on my champagne, staring out over the wave of people enjoying their evening.
“Looking hot there, JB!” A body moved in close to my side and mirrored my pose, leaning back against the wall.
“Wesley.” I greeted Nate’s brother in a bored tone. “Are you two like a package deal or something? Where he goes, you go?”
He grinned. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m his burly bodyguard, here to serve and protect him.”
I chuckled and looked him up and down. Wesley was lean and toned but he was no Nate. “I can see why he keeps you around,” I replied sarcastically.
Wesley turned so he was leaning his shoulder against the wall facing me. “What’s with him anyway? I would have thought being here with a gorgeous woman such as yourself he’d keep you close. Instead he looks like he wants to rip someone’s head off. What gives?”
I recounted everything that happened outside the club and Nate’s reaction to it.
“I’ve never seen him so mad, Wes. Why would he get so mad?” I asked.
“I have no idea. He usually shrugs the words of the press off.” Wesley’s brows pulled in tight as he shot a glance at Nate and Cassie. “Excuse me. I better go and see what’s going on,” he mumbled, marching over to his brother.
No longer prepared to hover on the edges of whatever was going on, I quickly gulped down my drink, wincing at the burn of bitterness and bubbles, and joined the others at the bar. Whatever the conversation I’d walked into, it was heated.
Nate glanced in my direction, his eyes meeting mine and holding them captive.
“…focus. It’s all mind games, Nate. They are just trying to get a reaction out of you. Just man the fuck up and get on with it,” Wesley snarled, finishing his berating.
Nate quickly shifted, moving into Wes’s space and standing chest to chest with his brother. “This is not your concern,” he seethed.
Cassie grabbed my arm and tugged me away towards the dancefloor.
“It’s best to leave them to it,” she said when I stalled. “Wes knows how to deal with Nate. He’ll pull him round.”
“That didn’t look like friendly brother banter to me.” I frowned, glancing back over my shoulder. “They don’t seem very close. What if it gets out of hand and they end up fighting? We should get back there.” I yanked my arm trying to free it from Cassie’s grip.
She sighed. “Liv, they are close, as close as two brothers can be. Wes is the only one who can calm Nate down when he flies into a rage. You should see them in the cage together… fireworks!” She smirked and waved her arms like exploding rockets.
On the dancefloor, Cassie pulled us straight into the mass of moving bodies and immediately found her groove, swinging her hips wildly and waving her arms in the air. I danced a little more sedately, preferring to rock and sway to the beat of the music. Chancing a glance back in the direction of the men, I saw Wes resting his hands on Nate’s shoulders whilst saying something to him. Nate nodded, acknowledging Wes, but his eyes were trained on me. I offered him a smile and continued dancing. Wes had clearly worked his charm.
“How are you enjoying it here?” Cassie asked, dancing in close and nudging her hip against mine.
“It has been… interesting,” I replied. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”
She grinned and sashayed into a twirl. “Nate didn’t tell you?”
“Didn’t tell me what?” I shouted over my shoulder as a handsome, dark haired guy with dark framed glasses grabbed my hips and began moving with me.
“He didn’t tell you that I would be out here too, did he?” She narrowed her eyes on my new dance partner and glided in so we were dancing as a group. “I always come away with him as his masseuse. Someone has to keep him in top shape.” She winked.
I pulled away from glasses guy and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. The bottle of wine I’d sipped on with my dinner along with the champagne I’d consumed in the club had left me lightheaded, giggly and carefree. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I gushed.
A strange shiver passed through my body as the hairs along my arms stood on end just before a large pair of possessive hands gripped my waist from behind.
“I’ve come to steal her from you, Cass.” Tilting my head back I drunkenly found Nate glaring over my shoulder at the guy dancing with us. I giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Nate asked, finally pinning me with his electric grey eyes. His lips pulled up at the edges into the semblance of a smile.
“You are,” I said, resting my head back on his shoulder. “My Mr. Mean-and-moody has come to fight off the enemy. What a hero!” I laughed harder and tried to wriggle away when Nate’s grip tightened and caught me where I was most ticklish.
“Yours huh?” he whispered into my ear.
I shivered again and nodded.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, running his nose down my cheek and along my neck. “I like the sound of that.”
“Wait!” I yelled, as something dawned on me. Pulling free of Nate’s arms and stumbling over my heels in the process, I twisted around. “Cass? As in Cassandra? As in the one who picked these clothes?” I pinched the material at the front of my dress. Nate’s eyes wandered to my chest and widened. I was still pinching the fabric away from my body, exposing to him more cleavage than was appropriate.
“That’s me,” Cassie yelled over my shoulder. “And I did a fine job, even if I do say so myself. You look amazing, Liv.” She pushed on the chest of the glasses guy, who’d been standing, bemused, watching our interaction, and they moved off into the crowd with Cassie speaking into his ear.
Nate wove his arms around my waist again and pulled me in close. “I’m sorry!” he said against my hair, moving us to the music. His hips were swaying against mine as he tugged me in closer and trapped my hands between our chests.
“Did I tell you how sexy you look tonight?” My head shook as the bass pulsed around us, and I soon found myself in a fog, lost to the rhythm and everything Nate. “Well you do. Every guy in the room wants to be where I am right now.” His hands trailed down my back coming to rest over my backside. He pulled me in close and soon our pelvises were grinding together. To anyone watching we probably looked like any other couple enjoying a passionate dance. It was a nice thought, and I wanted to savour it because if the last few days had taught me anything it was that soon the bubble would burst. With the buzz of alcohol racing through my veins and the heat of Nate’s close proximity, I closed my eyes, allowed my head to fall back and gave myself over to the moment, letting myself be guided by Nate to the sensual dance track.
All too abruptly, my musical trance was broken, spoiled by the sudden disappearance of the warm body pressed to mine. My eyes sprang open as my body stilled. Nate stood, breathing heavy with hooded eyes and a tense jaw, staring straight at me, through me, as though he were reaching into the depths of my soul. Captured by his silver gaze, I stood rooted to the spot, barely breathing, neither of us moving.
Wes’s arms were suddenly wrapping around each of our shoulders, breaking the spell. “I hate to break things up, but Mal’s looking for you, Nate.”
>
“Tell him to wait,” Nate instructed firmly, keeping his gaze on me.
“He said now. Honey’s pouting because she wants to see you. What the princess wants the Princess gets, right Nate?” Wes rolled his eyes.
“I said she can wait.”
“Who’s Honey?” I asked uneasily, breaking our stare and looking between the brothers.
“Honey is the sickly sweet, slimy product of an irritating insect.” Wes’s description made Nate scoff.
“She’s Mal’s daughter. But yeah, she does live up to her name,” Nate said. “Where are they?” Wes pointed to a VIP area at the rear of the room.
Grabbing Nate’s elbow before he could step away, I cried, “Are you? Is she?”
Feeling a hundred kinds of foolish, I dropped my hand and took a step back. I had no right to feel jealous, to want to have any proprietary over Nate. Even knowing it was ridiculous, the competitive woman in me fired to life harnessing her green eyed monster. Despite the feelings I had for Nate and knowing nothing would ever come of them, I hated the thought of anybody else having him.
Understanding flared in Nate’s eyes as he took a gently took hold of my elbow and began walking us toward the roped off VIP area.
“It’s not what you think, Liv,” he said, his warm breath teasing my ear. “She means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Cassie re-joined us then as we crossed the dancefloor, telling us about her dance with Philippe. I giggled drunkenly, thankful for the distraction, and then held my head when the room began to spin and everything started appearing in double.
“Let me get this over with and then we’ll leave,” Nate whispered, wrapping an arm around me to keep me standing upright.
Prepared to Fight Page 17
