Kimber Chin

He spotted her immediately. That she dressed all in black like hundreds of others on the dance floor should have made that task challenging. It hadn’t. He’d been tracking her since she entered his club, his body achingly aware of her every undulation.

Every Friday night, Cora came and danced. Every Friday night, he watched her. She was his obsession. He knew everything about her. He knew where she worked, in an uptight downtown art gallery. He knew she was seeing no one. She’d leave with the same female friends she arrived with. She stretched her hands up as though she reached for him, her head thrust back, her eyes closed, feeling the music.

He leaned on the railing. He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him. She wasn’t one of those normal club girls with their blonde hair and lips painted bright red. She didn’t dress to attract. She wore a simple black halter top and a black mini, her heels barely there. They hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words.

That would change tonight. He watched as she, laughing, wandered to the bar. She’d have a water with a twist of lime. She thought it was tap. He’d instructed his bartenders months ago to swap it with bottled. She deserved the best.

She deserved better than him. He scowled as he thumped down the stairs to the lower level. Patrons parted to let him through. Clubs were the perfect business for him. He belonged to the darkness of the night. Cora, though, Cora was a sunray. She was out of synch with his moonlight world.

It didn’t matter. He wanted her and what Markus wanted, he got. Her back was to him, her short brown curls not covering the nape of her neck. She was so small and delicate. He tugged his black blazer closed, ensuring that he, at the very least, looked respectable.

“Cora.”

She turned around. Her face lit up. Her lips curled into a smile. His mind drew a blank, all the slick lines he’d honed over the years dissipating to nothing.

“Markus. I was hoping-” A phone rang, the volume loud enough to be heard over the music. “Just a minute.” She held up on slender finger. It looked soft enough to nibble on. She checked the screen and her tanned face paled. “Oh, my lord.” She sagged.

He caught her before she hit the floor. “What is it?”

“He’s found me.” He heard the terror in her voice.