Over My Head by Wendi Zwaduk Page A

together. If he talked to her much longer, he’d say something foolish.
    “You can’t do any worse.” She laughed, a low, throaty laugh that sent sizzles through his veins. “How about you just take me home? I’m pooped and those damned heels hurt after an hour or two.”
    “You got it.”
    He wasn’t thrilled he’d have to let her go when then got there, but hell—if he said he thought about her late at night surely Astra would thank him…and take off. He put the car into gear. He missed her touch even though he barely knew her. He pulled out of the lot and into the street, careful not to skid on the freshly fallen snow.

    Astra folded her hands over her purse and settled herself more comfortably into Slade’s car seat. Just a ride. All she needed was a simple ride home. The moment she’d climbed into his car, she felt much warmer and she knew sure as shit it wasn’t from the measly car heater. The streetlights and blackened buildings flew by in a rush. The twenty minute drive across town seemed to take no time at all. Then again, with company like Slade, she’d rather the ride last forever.
    Knocking on his window and being seen with him could get her into trouble. Slade McMann wasn’t just a man or good-looking muscle. He loomed large at the club. The other bouncers weren’t scared of him, but if he was in charge of removing a drunk or troublemaker, the other bouncers gave him a wide berth.
    She wanted a man like him, one who would take care of her. The kind of man who knew what was going instead of her having to look over her shoulder or worry if someone had an unseen eye on her.
    Unless Slade proved to be another bad card in the deck.
    She guessed not. Slade McMann didn’t strike her as being like the other thugs at the club. He didn’t hang out with Tiny and never seemed to buy the merchandise. He barely seemed to pay attention to the crap going on at the club—like it was all beneath him.
    She’d put her faith in others only to have them screw her over. Unlike the men in her past, though, something deep in her belly screamed that she could trust Slade. Odd, too, since her gut instincts never panned out. The men she tended to trust only ever proved to be untrustworthy. Abe had used his fists, Tiny used drugs. Dennison…well, that was a wound she’d gladly give away.
    “Astra?”
    She gulped. He’d used her given name. Most of the bouncers didn’t even know the girls had names other than their stage names or descriptions like ‘the one with huge knockers’. She turned towards him. Slade wasn’t traditionally handsome. His face was a little too long and his black hair a tad too unruly. His grey eyes flashed whenever he looked at her and the simple act always sent shivers up her spine. It was as though her physical attributes weren’t important because he saw the woman inside. But to have him really see her as a human, not a set of breasts, seemed to be too much to ask.
    “We’re here.” Slade pulled into what was evidently his assigned parking spot at the Sanborn Building. “It’s three in the morning and damned icy. Give me a moment and I’ll come around to get you.”
    “I’m not going to break,” she chuffed, although she appreciated his gesture. Astra waited a heartbeat for him to round the hood of the car.
    Slade opened the door and offered his gloves. “Put these on.”
    She considered arguing with him and capitulated. Gloves were so much better than frozen fingers. She shivered again. “Thanks.”
    He looped one arm around her back and placed his hand on her elbow.
    “Are you for real?” She looked away, embarrassed by her own question.
    “I hope so,” he murmured in her ear. “I had a mother who insisted I have manners as well as learn how to put a man in his place.”
    She paused and stared at him.
    “What, little girl?”
    “Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.” Her heart beat loud in her ears. Had she just blurted out something about his girlfriend? Shit.
    Slade