Well, she'd show them all. She was a grown woman, and she could handle herself, especially with a human. It was the man sitting in front of her that she couldn't handle herself around.
Chapter Thirteen
Isabelle immediately wished she wasn't such a coward. She could have stood up to Stefan in her room; she could have told him to leave. She could have made him leave. Instead, she ran like a deer straight into the lion's den. The club was packed. The flashing lights, music, and the overwhelming smell of sweat, alcohol, and blood were enough to make her head pound the minute they walked in.
Isabelle stopped in the doorway to take everything in through the mass of bodies and the pulsating lights. The dance floor was beneath them, down a narrow set of metal stairs. There was no room on it as men and women ground against each other.
She was wearing more clothes than most of the women here. She scowled at Jack and Ian, who wisely chose to ignore her. Compared to most of the women here, she was dressed like a nun!
Lights of all different colors flashed on and off over the floor. So loud, the music shook the metal balcony beneath her feet. Isabelle fought the urge to cover her ears and close her eyes to block everything out.
"Come on, Issy!" Ian yelled in her ear.
She didn't want to go, but he grabbed her elbow and propelled her down the stairs. She halted at the bottom, uncertain of where to go. Ian released her elbow and began to make his way through the crowd, somehow finding a path she would never know existed.
A young girl grabbed his arm. He was instantly swallowed up, and so was the path. She found herself briefly engulfed by the thick mass of bodies, completely uncertain of where to go.
Stefan clasped her elbow and pulled her along as he parted the crowd. Isabelle followed soundlessly behind, too afraid of getting lost in the mob to protest his high-handed treatment of her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd parted to reveal a group of tables, most of them empty. Stefan led her to one, and she slumped gratefully into a chair.
"Do you want a drink?" he asked.
A drink was what she needed to help her relax. "Yes, a beer!"
He nodded and turned to push his way back through the crowd. Isabelle saw the bar then. It was on the right-hand side of the floor, a horseshoe shape curving out to the edge of the mahogany floor. The bar had flashing blue and green neon lights pulsing throughout the glass bottom. A huge crowd surrounded it, all of them leaning over to yell their orders at the scurrying bartenders.
Isabelle watched in amazement as Stefan made his way through the yelling crowd. It was obvious he was used to being in such places and wasn't the least bit intimidated by the huge crowd. Jealousy flashed through her as she wondered how many women he had taken out of clubs similar to this one.
She knew what The Stooges and her brothers were like, and Stefan was much older than they were. That added up to a lot of women. She tried to shove her jealousy aside, but it was a rock in her stomach that wasn't going away. How could she ever compete with so many women?
The thought jolted her and nearly caused her to fall out of her chair. She didn't want to compete with any other women; they could all have him. Even as she thought it, she knew she was lying to herself. She did want him; it was beyond time she admitted it, but now she had the worry of how inexperienced she was to add to her growing list of concerns.
For a moment, she wanted to cry. Life was so unfair. She’d hidden away, determined not to meet someone who made her feel the way he did. Then he had shown up at her house, invaded her life, and turned everything upside down. But even worse, he was arrogant, conceited, harsh, unbending, and a complete womanizer. Why couldn't she find a pleasant, simple human who wouldn't affect her the way he did?
"Would you like to dance?"
Isabelle blinked in surprise at the young man before her. Tall and lean, his hair was dyed a platinum blond that stood up in short spikes. His chin was pointed, his eyes a dark blue. He smiled at her as he extended a long, fine-boned hand. She opened her mouth to say no, and then recalled the entire reason she decided to come here. Being a wallflower was not going to help in her mission to find someone else she wanted.
She may want Stefan, but she was still determined to try and find someone who could make her feel even a fraction of what he did. That would at least be proof he wasn't her soul mate, and she wouldn’t have to spend eternity with him.
She smiled sweetly at the man as she accepted his hand. He pulled her to her feet and led her onto the packed dance floor. Second thoughts filled her when she realized she hadn't danced since her senior prom, and she had no idea what kind of dancing these people were doing. Then she realized there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to anyone's movements. They were all flowing to the beat of the music.
It took her a few minutes to relax, but when she did, she realized she was having fun. "My name's Frank!" he yelled above the pounding music.
"Isabelle!"
He smiled at her as he wrapped a hand around her waist. She tensed; her whole body went rigid with a feeling of wrongness, of not belonging. Her mind instantly flashed to Stefan, and she ground her teeth. She was going to prove to him, and to herself, she could and would be attracted to other people. She
