Too far. Ellie knew she'd crossed the line the second Luke jumped from his chair and marched toward her and Miguel. Fire flashed in his gray eyes, filling the room—and her body—with a rush of heat.

She fought against the heavy thudding of her heart, gathering up confidence she didn't have and wishing she'd never decided to take this course of action.

"I need to talk to you." Luke's voice was rough, tinged with danger. He didn't once glance in the direction of Miguel. Didn't ask permission, just grabbed her arm and began leading her across the dance floor.

Her pulse quickened at the feel of his warm hand against her bare arm, but the brief desire-filled reaction dissolved into anger as he dragged her through the bar.

With a helpless glance over her shoulder, she silently pleaded with Miguel to step in, but her date looked too stunned by Luke's macho display to move.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed as Luke led her out the door of the club and into the humid night air.

He didn't speak, just tugged on her arm again and directed her to the alley next to the Dancehall. Darkness enveloped them, but the inferno still raging in Luke's eyes was enough to light up an entire city street.

"You're playing with fire," he hissed back.

Playing with fire. There it was, that phrase again.

She took a step back, her back against the brick wall, hoping to put some distance between them. Hoping her heartbeat would slow. But Luke only moved closer, until his denim-clad thighs pressed against hers.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing." His hard gaze made her legs shake.

"I'm not doing anything." Her squeaky reply