She’s beautiful to look at, she’s new, she’s clean, and perfectly cut. But then you get up and look closely and see that she’s not real. She’s a fake. She doesn't glimmer like a natural diamond or hold the beauty and unbreakable strength of a real diamond. She’s just a manufactured piece of glass. Not the real deal. And sooner or later, that pig headed owner is gonna realize that fake diamonds can never pass for the real ones, no matter how much you wish they would.
So don't come in here acting like you matter. You left and took your high horse with you," he takes another step in my direction. My throat constricts.He's not finished, "And you show up here at my club thinking you can just waltz right in and have a say? No bitch.
You’re not touching us,’” Eve said, and raised her voice. “Shane! Shane, get your ass up here now!’”There was a touch of panic in her voice, although she was putting on a good front. Her hands were shaking where they gripped the hockey stick.The man glided around the end of the bed, prowling like a cat. Six feet tall, at least, and as broad as two of Eve, maybe bigger. His bare arms were ripped with muscle. His blue eyes looked shallow and hungry.Claire heard the thump of footsteps outside, and then a bang as Shane fetched up against the locked door. He rattled the knob and pounded hard. “Eve! Eve, open up!’”“She’s busy!’” the biker yelled, and laughed. “Oh yeah, gonna be real busy.’”“No!’” Shane screamed it, and the door shook with the strength of the blows he put into it. “Stay away from them!