Broken Rules: A Stand Alone Romance

by Baldwin, Lily

  Still, even with his lanky frame and beads of perspiration, William was ten times the man than any of the gorgeous assholes Brandi had dated in the past. Going on a date with William would do her good.

  “You never know,” she said coyly. Given that her friend currently hated all men, perhaps William didn’t have a shot. Brandi was painfully beautiful, and despite their bathroom pep talk about ditching bad boys, she may take one look at William—all skin and bones, and only twenty-two—and turn her lovely nose up at him. Or...

  Savannah lifted her shoulders. “Brandi just might surprise you. Anyway, she needs a nice guy to ask her out. I don’t know if she’ll say yes, but the compliment should improve her mood and soften her a little.” She smiled. “Brandi just needs a boost, and you can give her that, which will, in turn, give everyone a break from her attitude. And hey,” she said, flashing William a smile. “You might just get lucky.”

  Behind her Wally laughed. “Very lucky.”

  Savannah winked at the head chef before she turned on her heel and headed back to the bar.

  The rest of the night finished off smoothly. Savannah was upstairs in the office when Brandi turned in her cash.

  “How did you do?” Savannah asked, accepting the thick wad of bills wrapped in Brandi’s cash-out slip.

  “I’m walking with one twenty. Not bad for a Monday night.”

  Savannah nodded. “Not bad at all. How are you feeling?”

  Brandi smiled and tossed her long, dark hair off her shoulder. “Great, but I can’t chat. I have to run. I’m going out.”

  Savannah suppressed her smile. “Oh, with who?”

  Brandi shrugged. “Just one of the guys from the kitchen. You wanna grab a drink with us?”

  Savannah held up her glass of wine. “I already have one, but thanks. I still have to finish the money and input the specials for tomorrow. I’ll be here for a while.”

  Brandi bent at the waist and gave her a hug. “Sorry I was a handful today.”

  Savannah squeezed her back. “No worries. We all have shitty days. Go have fun with William.”

  Brandi pulled away, her eyes wide. “How did you know?”

  Smiling, Savannah winked at her. “Nothing goes on around here without me knowing. He’s a nice guy. Have fun.”

  Brandi perked up. “Look at me dating a good guy for a change.”

  “Let me know how it goes,” Savannah said. “I’ve been thinking about trying one of those myself.”

  “Will do. I’m the last woman standing, by the way. Everybody else has taken off. Have a goodnight, Savvy.”

  “Hold on,” Savannah said, causing her friend to pause. “Do me a favor. Leave by the back door, but double check to make sure the front door is locked. The new hostess can be pretty forgetful.” Savannah raised her eyes to the ceiling while her arms slumped at her sides. “Speaking of forgetful, what’s her name?”

  Brandi smiled. “Heather, and I’ll double check the doors. See you in the AM.”

  Savannah watched Brandi head out of the office with an extra skip in her step and sighed.

  Great.

  Savannah crossed her arms on her desk and buried her face in her elbow. Brandi was going out with a nice guy while all she could do was fantasize about an actual bad guy—not just a bad boy with a reputation for breaking hearts, but a legitimate criminal.

  She sat up. “I suck,” she said out loud.

  “I beg to differ,” a deep voice said.

  Savannah jumped out of her chair and threw herself against the side wall, her heart pounding. “Who’s there,” she blurted, eying the open door to her office, which led out into the dry-storage area. Her heart was pounding. Brandi had said that everyone had already left. An image of Skeevie Stevie and his leering smile flashed in her mind.

  “Oh God,” she gasped and snaked her hand out, seizing the phone. She dialed 911 the instant before a familiar masked face appeared in the doorway.

  She froze. “It’s you!”

  “This is 911. Where’s your emergency,” a woman’s voice said through the receiver.

  Savannah sucked in a sharp breath and slammed the phone down. “Sorry!”

  He casually leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t apologize. I broke into your restaurant. You’re supposed to call the police.”

  “I...I...” She had no idea what to say or do.

  He started to walk toward her.

  She leapt to her feet and swiveled her chair in front of her like a shield. “You shouldn’t be here,” she blurted.

  “I know.” He took another step closer.

  She pressed up against the wall. “How did you get in here?”

  “Very carefully,” was his only answer.

  She swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

  “I came to see you.”

  She pressed her hand to her chest. “Me?”

  His mouth was covered by fabric. Still, she could feel his smile all the way to her toes.

  “Yeah, you.”

  Her heart pounded as he leaned closer. He was tall and strong, yet slim and elegant, and when he moved, he did so soundlessly, effortlessly as if gliding.

  He leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing one foot over the other. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  She straightened, released the chair, and smoothed her hair with her hands. After working a double, she no doubt smelled only slightly better than she looked.

  “I’m...ah...I’m fine,” her voice trembled, betraying her nerves, despite how she tried to sound calm.

  He stood and reached out his hand, clearly to graze his gloved fingers down her cheek, but she flinched. His hand dropped to his side.

  “You’re still afraid,” he said simply.

  “Wouldn’t you be?” she breathed.

  His gaze held hers. Her stomach flipped. For the first time, she could see his eyes. They weren’t smoky grey after all.

  “Your eyes are like fire,” she blurted.

  “They’re amber,” came his simple reply.

  She swallowed hard. “Maybe you are the big bad wolf.”

  He took another step closer. “I don’t bite.”

  She strained further away.

  Silence hung between them. Somehow it was louder than even her heart pounding in her ears. His gaze bore into hers, smoldering and intense. She wanted to see him, the man beneath the mask. Without looking away, she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly exposed—as if she were naked to his gaze while she could still only see his amber eyes.

  “Um...would you like a drink?” she said awkwardly.

  “I won’t be staying.”

  “But you just got here.”

  He tapped the phone receiver. “We won’t be alone for long.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Shit! The police are still going to come even though I hung up.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “After I go, just call them back and tell them you thought you’d heard someone in the kitchen but you were mistaken. They may still come to check things out, but they won’t stay long.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. If I had known it was you, I never would have called the cops.”

  He straightened up, tension suddenly filling his shoulders. “I shouldn’t be here.” His voice sounded agitated.

  “I really am sorry.”

  He grabbed her waist. “If a guy like me ever gets close to you again, you call the police. Understand?”

  Before she could take her next breath, he pulled her flush against him. His masked face hovered above her hair, and then slowly, she felt his full lips press against her cheek through the mask. She closed her eyes as desire shot through her.

  “Forget I was here,” he said softly. “Forget all about me.”

  His touch vanished, and when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Savannah ’s Tuesday double couldn’t have gone fast enough. Just thinking about her masked visitor made her heart race harder than
it ever had before. She knew she was behaving ridiculously. No longer a naive teenager, she was a woman grown with twenty-five years of bad boy experience under her belt. Still, she had always wanted what she shouldn’t crave. And what could possibly be more forbidden than...the man in black? Zorro? No, her masked man was definitely no hero—he was a thief-for-hire.

  While she finished wiping down the bar she thought of his lean build and smoldering eyes. For all she knew he could be hiding some kind of Phantom-of-the-Opera deformity behind his mask. She froze mid-wipe. Maybe that was why he was a contract thief—he believed he was too hideous to live and work in ordinary society. She shook her head at herself. Now, she really was being ridiculous.

  She looked up as Sam, the young bar-back, swung a rack of clean glasses onto the service counter.

  Savannah smiled at him. “Right on time. Your tip-out is by the register. Great work tonight. Just finish wiping down the tables; then you can head out. I’ll be upstairs in the office if you need anything.” She grabbed her purse and ducked beneath the service counter.

  “Thanks, Savannah,” Sam called after her, flashing a goofy smile that dimpled his freckled cheeks. “Have a good night.”

  She gave the young man a wave before she crossed through the empty dining room and into the kitchen. Heading off to the right, she climbed the stairs, but instead of going straight to the office, she made a sharp right into the back of the dry storage area where the kitchen staff changed.

  Shoving aside the cook’s whites, she uncovered a full-length mirror and took in her reflection. Considering she’d just worked a double, she didn’t look too bad. She pulled out the bobby pins holding her long bangs back and freshened her curls with a little serum. Then she reapplied her deodorant and a fresh coat of her favorite lipstick—pink blush. Whisking her black work shirt over her head, she straightened the plain white tank top she’d worn underneath, all the while the same question bombarded her mind.

  Would he come to her again?

  Her heart started to race harder as nerves twisted her stomach.

  He had told her to forget him...Maybe he wouldn’t come.

  She was giving her curls an extra tousle when Brandi appeared behind her in the mirror. “Hey, I thought you said you weren’t going out tonight?”

  Savannah’s gaze darted down to her purse. She quickly put her lipstick back and zipped it up. “I’m not. I’ve just been working since last Monday, and I’m sick of feeling like a piece of smelly shit.”

  “That’s a bit harsh, Savvy. Anyway, you could be dipped in shit, and you would still be gorgeous.”

  Savannah smiled. “Thanks.” Then she noticed Brandi’s fresh makeup and her body hugging dress. “Where are you off to tonight?”

  “William is taking me for a walk on the beach.”

  “A second date? Wow!”

  Brandi smiled. “And do you know what? He didn’t even make a pass at me last night, even though I got pretty buzzed.”

  Savannah’s heart warmed for her friend. “Aww, you found a gentleman.”

  “Yup, he’s straight out of a Jane Austin book.”

  “You’re right,” Savannah exclaimed. “And his name is William, not Will or Willy, which proves my theory about names. His parents may as well have called him Mr. Darcy.”

  “What theory about names?” Brandi asked.

  Savannah shook her head. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking out loud.” She pulled Brandi into a quick hug. “Have fun and be safe. Remember, Mr. Darcy, wasn’t always a gentleman.”

  Savannah watched her friend disappear down the stairs. Suddenly, she felt very alone. She looked at her reflection. “You’re pathetic.” She wiped off her lipstick on the back of her hand and headed into the office to finish her work.

  No doubt the masked avenger wouldn’t show again, especially after she called the cops on him.

  More than that, she shouldn’t want him to come!

  But she did.

  Sliding into the office chair, she printed out the money owed and compared that with the staffs’ cash-outs. When the numbers lined up, she stood and stretched. Exhausted, she turned out the office light. After making it part way down the stairs, she realized she’d forgotten her purse.

  “Damn it,” she breathed and dragged herself back up the stairs, across the room, passing stacks of napkins and to-go containers, and opened the office door. She flicked on the light the instant before an involuntary scream fled her lips.

  He was sitting in her chair, holding her purse.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t take anything,” he said, handing her the bag. She could hear the smile in his voice.

  Her heart still pounded in her ears. “How did you...I’ve been up here the whole...” Setting her purse on the desk, she slumped down in the chair across from him, feeling dizzy. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I.” His voice was a caress. Then he rolled his chair closer to hers. “I tried to stay away.”

  She swallowed. “You did?” She felt completely entranced by the fire she glimpsed in his eyes, still the only part of his face she could see.

  “The problem, Savannah—”

  She sat straighter. “You know my name.”

  “I do, Savannah Honey.”

  Swallowing hard so that her next question was barely louder than a whisper, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  He hesitated. Moments passed, breaths, and then, finally, he said, “Damien. My name is Damien.”

  She threw her hands up. “Of course your name is freaking Damien.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  She wanted to tell him that Damien was just a couple letters away from Demon, but she thought that might be rude. Still, if her name theory was right, no name could be more foreboding than the one belonging to the masked, admitted criminal sitting across from her.

  Just one more flashing sign, telling her to run like hell!

  She met his gaze, ignoring the symbolic neon light. “I think you were about to tell me about some problem before I interrupted you.”

  His shoulders tensed. “The problem is that I can resist anything.”

  Her heart pounded harder. He spoke in riddles and allusions—another bad boy trademark. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means, I lead a simple life.”

  She cocked her brow at him. “That I seriously doubt.”

  He leaned closer. “My associations are few, as are my possessions. I am detached from everyone and everything.” A note of bewilderment entered his voice. “And yet, here I am, once again in your office. I can’t remember the last time I was in the same room twice.”

  He reached out and grasped the sides of her chair. She started to roll toward him. The closer she rolled, the faster her heart pounded. White knuckling her knees, she sat frozen, unable to draw breath as he spread his legs and pulled her chair right up to his. His eyes bore into hers. She shifted in her seat beneath the weight of his scrutiny.

  “Do you want me to go?” he blurted as if the questioned pained him.

  She swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she wanted.

  “You should tell me to go. You don’t want to have anything to do with me. Tell me to go,” he commanded.

  Get away from him, her brain screamed, but her body and her heart didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

  He leaned forward and seized her waist between his hands. “If you tell me to go, right now, I will. You’ll never see me again.”

  Do the right thing, Savannah! The guy is telling you he’s bad news!

  But bad guys didn’t warn girls off.

  How could he be all bad, if he was giving her an out?

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  He stood abruptly, pulling her out of her chair and crushed her against his hard chest. The fabric of his mask puffed from his quick breaths. “This is your last chance to send me away.”

  Her breath caught. “I’ve been waiting of
you,” she said, her voice tremulous.

  He spun her around and pressed her back flush against his hard, lean body. She could feel the power in his arms as he held her close. Slowly, his hand trailed down her waist and over her hip. His leather-gloved fingers caressed her bare thigh below the hem of her black skirt. Then he turned her around so that they, once again, faced each other.

  She gasped. The danger. The feel of his hands on her body. The mystery. It all pulsed through her, intoxicating and forbidden. Her fingers trembled when she slowly reached up to touch his cheek through his black hooded mask. “Can I see your face?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head. “Not with the cameras running.”

  She stiffened. Brows drawn, her eyes darted around the office. “What are you talking about? What cameras?”

  “Your boss has cameras all over this place.” Then he motioned to the vent in the ceiling. “Watch.”

  She stared up at the vent. After a moment, she saw a red light flash on the inside.

  “That bastard,” she snapped. “Brandi and I change in here all the time.”

  His hand wrapped around her waist. “Not all bad guys wear masks.”

  “Joe definitely fits that bill.” She looked up as the light flashed again. “I just didn’t know how bad he actually was until now.”

  “Aren’t you worried you’re going to find out how bad I am?”

  “I know I should be terrified of you, but I’m not. There’s something about you...I...I don’t know—you make me feel...” Still, she had no words for how he made her feel...safe—no. Comfortable—no. In fact, she felt reckless and awkward. She had never felt so confused, and yet, somehow she knew exactly what she wanted to do at that moment. Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. Despite the fabric that separated them, she could feel the heat of his mouth.

  Pulling away, she met his gaze. “Do you trust me?” she whispered.

  His gaze glanced up at the camera, but after a moment, he nodded slightly.

  It was all the encouragement she needed. Slowly, she unzipped the very top of his black cargo vest and found the end of his mask. She eased the fabric up, revealing a chiseled jaw dotted with black stubble, and full, soft lips. She swallowed hard, then rose up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Her eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly crushed her against his body and hungrily kissed her, bending her back onto the desk. She closed her eyes and held on tight, losing herself in the heat of his kiss. Then, suddenly, he released her and thrust her away from him. Dazed, she opened her eyes. He slowly came into focus. He was backing toward the door, pulling the folds of his mask down. His eyes seared her very soul. “This isn’t goodbye,” he promised.