Zane Jennings raised an eyebrow, a hint of menace seeping from his handsome exterior. "Do we know each other?"
Nash Quinn: "..."
Jocelyn Lawrence lived in a downtown apartment, a half-hour trip from the bar. The location was prime, the neighborhood was pleasant, and the security, needless to say, was excellent.
When the car stopped, Erin Lowell stopped her. "I'll go up with you."
"If *certain people* have no objections, then neither do I." Jocelyn Lawrence's gaze landed on Ian Sheffield in the driver's seat. Dark suit, white shirt. His features possessed a rare, clean-cut quality, like a nobleman from an ancient era sitting tall on his steed—a sight you couldn't forget.
Her comment was clearly pointed. Ian Sheffield tilted his head slightly, a smile touching the corners of his eyes. "I don't mind."
Jocelyn Lawrence got out of the car and ran to open the passenger door. "Erin, please alight."
Ian Sheffield reached for his seatbelt. "I'll walk you up."
