Klara

I slammed back my drink, then put the glass back down on the counter. I took a moment to catch my breath, before rais—ing my hand to call for the bartender.

"Another one, please," I said.

He frowned. "Um, do you think you've had too much, maybe?"

I shook my head quickly, but stopped when it made me feel a bit dizzy.

"Not at all. Another, please."

He continued to look concerned, which I thought I was sweet, but as I waited expectantly, he just sighed and went to get my drink.

His concern wasn't going to do me much good, after all. Also, despite playing the good girl all my life, I knew how to hold my liquor. I was a little tipsy, but I was nowhere near drunk.

A while later, I was sure I'd had a little too much to drink. Still not drunk, but fed up. I was leaning against a wall feeling both sorry for and angry at myself. I felt stupid for using my last dime on that drink.

I need to head back to my room.

Soon, I would have to go home, too, since nearly all my funds had gone down the drain. I didn't have room to feel re—gret, but I was disappointed I'd have to cut my trip short.

I looked around at the rest of the club. There was music and drinks and dancing, and everyone seemed to be having fun. This was a new scene for me. It wasn't my first time in a club; that had been earlier in the week. I still wasn't used to it, especially with all the noise and the bumping bodies.

If circumstances were different, I never would have ended up in such a place. Not because I hated it, but the thought nev—er really entered into my mind before.

Anyway, it wasn't as if I had the funds to keep club hop—ping anyway, but I felt like I'd had my fill of it.

Time to get back to the real world.

I pushed myself off the wall, but I miscalculated.

The reason I was leaning against the wall instead of still being at the bar, was because I'd moved away to go to the bathroom. But I was feeling unsteady, and a new group had come in with a lot of people and a lot of noise. I moved to get out of their way, but now that I'd decided to leave, I had to go all the way across the room, and the crowded people dancing or standing around with their drinks.

It wasn't my intention, I didn't even realize I was un—steady, and being in unfamiliar tall heels wasn't helping. I was going to fall to the floor before I caught myself because my legs felt like weak noodles.

Crap.

I squinted my eyes, too afraid to close them, with arms held out, hoping to break my fall without breaking an arm.

It didn't happen, though. Instead of falling to the ground, I bumped into someone. He didn't mean to save me, probably. He was passing in front of me and hadn't seemed to notice I was in the way until I collided with him.

My first impression of him was that he was tall, and his body was muscled underneath his suit.

One of my hands had fallen to his peck, and the other had grabbed onto his bicep. His arms came up to catch me as I fell into him, steadying me, though my face was already pressed against his chest.

I had a moment to be relieved I didn't end up face—planting on the floor. I didn't doubt a few people would have stepped on me on their way since everyone in the club seemed so preoccupied with themselves and each other.

Then, I looked up and felt my breath catch in my throat.

He's hot, was my second impression of him. I was held against his chest, and he had one hand on my waist, the other on my shoulder, holding me close. Not that I want to move away. I found myself thinking, This must be what immediate attraction felt like.

"Whoa, there," the man said. "Miss, are you all right?"

I just blinked at him stupidly, because his voice was deli—ciously deep. He was the full package, a guy with a nice body, nice voice, and a handsome face. Before, I never would have caught the interest of a man like him.

"Miss?" he said after a minute when I didn't reply, arch—ing an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

Immediately, I felt my face go hot, and I knew I was blushing. I cleared my throat and went to move back, only to realize I couldn't because he was holding me securely, and a little tightly, to his chest. He seemed to realize it as well and released me, quickly.

Only, he did it a little too quickly, and I staggered a bit, almost falling back against the wall, before he grabbed me again, his hands on my waist as he tugged me back against his chest. The pose we ended up in this time was a little more in—timate. With his hands around my waist and my own on his chest, if anyone looked at us, they would think we were to—gether.

I'd learned my lesson already, though. Between being in a hot guy's arms and ending up on the floor, there was no com—petition.

"Are you here with someone, Miss?" the man asked. "You look like you're a little drunk…"

I shook my head. "Not drunk," I corrected. "Just a little tipsy."

Honestly, staring at his face wasn't even helping, it was just making me daydream. If he let go, I was sure I would fall, and that thought made my hands flex on his chest.