The Dark Lover - Volume Two

But the blonde wasn't any of those things, and he doubted she needed any kind of rescuing-and certainly not from him. She was merely a pretty inconvenience, one that required Clay to do the dutiful thing, as he would with any of his customers who had had a few drinks too many. With his back to the blonde and still facing Tara, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a pointed look. "I'll take care of her like I would any other tipsy patron," he said, his tone direct. "She'll pay her bill, and I'll call a cab to take her home so she's not driving under the influence. Making sure she leaves safely is all part of my responsibility as owner of this bar. Nothing more." Tara reached up and patted his cheek. "You can try and justify it all you want, but you're a good guy, Saint Clay." Despite his nickname and the reason behind it, he wasn't a fucking saint. Never had been and never would be. He'd done a shitload of illegal and immoral things he wasn't proud of in his life, and while he'd done his best to redeem himself, there was still a darkness inside of him that would always remain. "Good night, Tara," he said, his abrupt tone making it clear that he was done with this conversation. "See you tomorrow night, boss," she said with a cheeky grin. She grabbed her purse and jacket from a cupboard behind the bar just as the dishwasher-a young kid he'd caught rummaging through the dumpster in the back for scraps to eat a few months ago-came out from ...