I stepped into the club, the heavy bass pulsing through my chest, when my gaze locked onto her. She was standing by the bar, a petite figure with dark, exotic features that clearly spoke of foreign lands. I could see it in her eyes-the way they sparkled with a mixture of mischief and innocence that sent a low growl of desire rumbling in my chest. C

"Who's that?" I asked Dmitri, my right-hand man. His eyes followed mine, narrowing as he took in the sight.

"Just another lost tourist, I'd wager," he replied, his voice laced with disdain. "What do you care?"

"She doesn't belong here," I muttered, more to myself than to him. My pulse quickened as I pushed away from the bar, closing the distance between us.