She had to apologize to this woman.

Forcing down her pride, Emily drew a shaky breath, her throat painfully dry.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault. I apologize."

Emily didn't need a mirror to know how humiliated she looked-her voice thin, her back stiff.

Isabella Austin's smile widened in satisfaction. "It's fine. I accept your apology." Andrew Lane didn't even glance her way-just offered a noncommittal grunt. Emily Blair disliked Evan Foster. In truth, his presence made her skin crawl. But right now, she desperately hoped he would take her away from this place. She hurried over to him, forcing a brittle smile, her voice trembling. "Will you take me home?"

Evan's lips curled with pleasure. He stood and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Well then, Mr. Lane, I'll be taking Emily with me. The night is young, and we intend to make the most of it."

His words were met with raucous laughter and catcalls from the crowd.

Andrew Lane didn't even look up. Another indifferent grunt.

Evan's smile grew as he led Emily out of the private lounge, his arm still draped around her.

Every muscle in Emily's body was wound tight. She couldn't relax-could barely breathe.

As Evan guided her toward the lounge's quiet alcove, Emily's breath grew shallow. She stopped abruptly, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt.

"Mr. Foster."

He reeked of whiskey—so strong she nearly gagged.

Evan turned, still patient for the moment, and tipped her chin up with his finger.

"Yes?"

Emily's face was white as chalk. "Where are you taking me?"

His eyes glittered with mockery, a sly grin curling his lips. His hand wandered across her bare back, lingering.

"Don't worry, Emily. I promise you'll enjoy yourself tonight."

Her stomach lurched. Emily fought the urge to run.

She steadied her voice, though it was barely above a whisper. "If you're looking for company, Mr. Foster, I can find someone else for you."

The smile faded from Evan's face.

"I don't want anyone else. I want you."

Emily tried again, but his expression darkened.

"Emily, you came all the way here—no need to keep pretending. A little playing hard to get is fine, but too much, and I lose interest." He suddenly grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and cold. "Or is it that you'd rather be with Andrew Lane? That you never really wanted me?"

His gaze was sharp and menacing.

Something inside Emily screamed at her to run.

Evan closed in, step by step. She instinctively backed away, then spun on her heel, intent on escaping.

He lunged, catching her around the waist and hoisting her over his shoulder. He kicked open the nearest room.

The world spun. He tossed her onto the king-sized bed.

The mattress was soft, but the impact left her dizzy. Emily scrambled to get up, not even waiting for her vision to clear.

Evan was faster. He pressed her down, his breathing harsh and ragged, hands grasping her bare waist with force.

"Slut. You come to the Moonlight Club dressed like this, and now you want to play innocent?"

"Don't tell me this isn't what you wanted. I'll make sure you never forget me."

Emily's stomach heaved. She thrashed wildly. "No! Don't touch me!"

"Get away from me! Don't you dare!"