Be bold. Be brave.

As Tristia Munroe's heart beat in time to the thrumming base beat of the hip—hop music, she danced. If someone had told her even a year ago that she'd be dancing on top of a podium at a club, she'd have thought they were insane.

But this was her life now. Come Monday, she'd start classes and be free. Even now, she could pretend. She swung her hips in time with 50 Cent rapping about being in the club. Dreamily, she dragged her eyelids open and locked gazes with a pair of aquamarine eyes that watched her intently.

Even in the darkness of the club, she could tell he was good looking, with his dark, curling hair and angular face. But the way he watched her made her flush. Like she was the only girl there, even in the sea of silicone and tanned California blondes.

The music switched to something more poppy and fun, but still Tris danced. And before, while she'd danced to express her freedom, now she danced for him. She liked him watching her. Up here, like this, surrounded by her friends, it was safe flirting. Her little attempt at being bold.

A movement over his shoulder caught her attention, and she scowled. In the corner of the club lurked the evidence that she wasn't quite free. Not yet. "I cannot believe he's already breaking his promise," she mumbled as she glared at the security detail attempting to blend into the corner of the club. But really at six feet five inches, where was that guy going to hide?

"Easy, Tris, maybe that guy is just a bouncer." Her friend Sydney eyeballed the guy, trying to assess him.

"I wish, Syd." Tris pointed at one of the real bouncers at the front of the club. See that black muscle tee? He is a bouncer. Lurch over there in the corner with a suit, that's my security detail."

Their friend Xia sidled up to them, holding on to Sydney's arm for support. "Come on. Even if your dad sent a security detail, who cares? The fab three are back together. We're having a fabulous time, courtesy of your cousin's friend and his fabulous club, we're partying it up, and you're totally having eye sex with the hottie at the bar. They can't bother us. Try to have fun."

Xia had a point. Tris was here to have fun. And to taste a little freedom, from her life, from her overbearing father. She wasn't going to let the tank in the corner distract her.

"You guys are right. I'm finally here. It doesn't matter. School starts in a couple of days, and then I can be a normal person for once. You can't even imagine how excited I am about it."

Sydney raised her bottled water. "I propose a toast."

Tris and Xia copied her with their bottles of water. "To freedom."

Yes, freedom. Freshman year at San Diego University. Despite her father's best efforts to drag her back home. He'd tried to insist that she should go to school in Trinidad, closer to him.

With his oil interests, he travelled all around the world and was never around. Thanks to a few threats against him, he'd insisted on a round—the—clock security detail for her. But that wasn't the only reason for the detail. He lived in fear every day that someone was going to attempt to kidnap her…again.

More than once she tried to remind him that her kidnapper was dead, that he couldn't hurt her anymore, but he didn't listen. He insisted on the protection. But she and her mother had finally worn him down. After all, no one else she knew had tanker trucks following them to class.

It was the last big battle she and her mother had with the old man before her mother died last year. She'd been insistent that Tris have a chance at normalcy. Her mother had been the reason she could live with her father's overbearing nature. But she was gone now.

Tris shook off the thought. Her mom wanted her to live a full life, and she fully intended to. She'd met Xia and Sydney their sophomore year at boarding school, and the three had become fast friends. She was lucky she wouldn't be starting college off all alone. For an added bonus, her cousin, Ricca, lived here, so she had some family too.

That was probably the only reason her father had said she could do without the security detail. But now, it looked like he'd lied about that. It would be useless to argue with him though. He'd only insist he was doing what was best for her. And granted, he'd said she wouldn't have one at school. He'd play semantics with her. Technically, school hadn't started yet.

What would it be like to be normal for once? Meet a nice boy, go out. Her gaze drifted back to Mr. Intensity. She'd thought with college approaching she could finally date, explore a little. God forbid if she actually got to ever have sex.

"Come on. No more moping, not on my watch." Sydney grabbed their hands and dragged them to the stairs leading to the main dance floor and the bar. "Let's see if we can't talk one of these cute boys into buying us a drink."

Tris frowned. "I don't know about that." That they were even in the club was all due to her cousin Ricca. And the three of them were taking full advantage. They weren't being served alcohol, but Sydney was on a mission. And what Sydney wanted, she got. It was probably her modelesque body and face. But Tris knew—there was just something about her. Pure charisma. People wanted to do things for her.

For the next thirty minutes the sounds of hip hop and reggae filled the club, and the throngs of the crowd gyrated to the deep bass beats. Then, she heard a reggae dance hall beat, and she grinned. It might have been old school Sean Paul, but this was music she recognized. Music that spoke to her soul. As his voice blared from the speakers about giving him the light, Tris closed her eyes and rolled her hips. It took several minutes to realize no one bumped into her any longer. When she let her eyelids flutter closed, she noticed everyone had given them a wide berth and looked on with interest.

Xia laughed as she leaned in. "Congratulations, you've created your own dance circle. Shake that ass, girl. Give these size—two bitches something to envy."

"Like you're one to talk, Xi."

"Hey, I might be a size zero, but I have the African trademark. Please, please, please, show these blond surfer boys what real twerking looks like." Xia's mother was from Zimbabwe, and her father was Japanese–American. The combination was dynamite on her friend: café au lait skin, wide, almond—shaped eyes, full lips all on a tiny stature with curves.

Sydney clamped a hand on both of their shoulders. "Whoa now, they ain't ready for all that. Nobody is. I mean we're already blowing their minds with our dance moves right now. Tris here starts twerking, next thing you know we'll be part of an urban legend. Three black girls brought the house down at the club. San Diego white boys have never been the same."

Trist giggled even as she scanned the crowd for Mr. Intensity. In high school, they'd always joked that they were a walking urban legend. They'd been three of only a handful of minorities in the whole school, so there'd been plenty of fodder for jokes.

Xia nodded at some guys by the bar. "I think we've got a few already mesmerized by Tris."

Unable to help herself, Tris glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Mr. Intensity stood beside a friend. His friend was a jaw dropper too, but Mr. Intensity held her attention. Heat prickled on her skin that had nothing to do with the dancing she'd been doing. Twisting her hips and rotating, she danced her way into position to face him. The corner of his lips tipped up when her gaze locked with his.

Oh yeah, he was definitely still watching her. It should have made her nervous. Instead, it made her skin flush. She wanted him to watch her. Wanted him to see how she moved. She might not have a lot of life experience and had been sheltered her whole life, but one thing she knew she could do was move. A small part of her liked showing that off.

The other guy he was with eventually turned his attention to the parade of girls wearing barely—there outfits, but his gaze never wavered.

She wished she was daring enough to keep her gaze locked on his. Or even better, to pull a Sydney and walk right up to him, but she wasn't that brave. Instead, she danced for him, and he watched her.

Unfortunately, their dancing also attracted some...unwanted attention. A couple of guys inched closer and closer to their little closed circle, and eventually, one of them made his move on her, nearly blocking her view of the guy at the bar.

Two problems with this situation. One, the guy couldn't dance. Two, he was actively trying to make her focus on him.

"So what's your name?"

Oh God, really? She wasn't in the mood. She just wanted to dance and continue having eye sex with Mr. Intensity. "I don't give my name to strangers."

"Oh come on, I'm Tim. Now we're not strangers."

Over his shoulder, she caught another glimpse of her guy. His expression was a cross between irritation and bemusement. She sidestepped two—left—feet guy. "Thanks uh, Tim, but I sort of just want to dance with my friends."

His brows snapped down, and he whipped his hand around her wrist. "Then what the fuck did you come here for? I'm just trying to make fucking conversation. You don't have to be so stuck up."

Several things happened in that split second. In her peripheral vision, Mr. Intensity said something to his friends and moved in her general direction. In the far corner of the club, her detail said something into his wrist, then, suddenly, four more tank—type guys started to converge on the dance floor. And finally, Sydney's eyes went round and she aimed her glass.

Oh shit, the last thing Tris wanted was some insane altercation.

Two Left Feet's hand gripped tighter as he was unaware of his impending ass—kicking, but she knew how to take care of herself. Easily, she practiced the move that had been drilled into her over and over again. Fisting the hand of the wrist he held, she stepped into him, and at the same time, grabbed her fist with her other hand. The torque of her hips had him releasing her immediately, and he looked a little confused by what had just happened.

Good old Xia, she was the one who stayed calm. The one with a plan. She might be the tiniest of them all, but she slid between the guy and Tris and placed a hand on the asshole's chest.

"Listen up, dickwad. Right now, you are about to have a very bad night. My friend Syd here is ready to pour vodka into your eyes."

To punctuate the point, Sydney raised her glass and winked.

"And then, I know you probably haven't noticed yet, but there are four very big men about to drag your scrawny ass outside and give you the beat down of your life."

The guy looked up and glared warily at the security guys bearing down on their location.

Xia continued on full steam. "Not to mention what skills my girl here has with her self—defense. And I even see some bystanders ready to come to our aid, so frankly, if you don't hit the skids, I think you're making an untimely visit to the ER. Which I promise you is gonna fuck up your night."

Slowly, her words filtered into his consciousness, because he all of a sudden looked around, then backed away with his hands up.

Xia smiled sweetly. "That's what I thought, asshole. Now, I hope you think twice before you touch my friend without her permission. Or anybody else for that matter." Very calmly, Xia turned to face Tris. "You okay, honey?"

She'd already taken mental stock of her emotional state. Most prominent emotion: annoyance. Not fear. Good. "I'm cool."

Her friend grinned brightly. "Good, then let's get you another drink."

"That won't be happening. Tris is coming home with us."

She knew that voice well. It belonged to Roland Upia. He was head of her father's security team. She ground her teeth. "Roland, I wish I could say it was nice to see you, but that would be a lie."

He gave her a wan smile. "Time to go, Tris."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No. First of all, you don't get to call me Tris. You're not my friend."

He frowned deeply, and she felt bad she'd hurt him. He'd been looking out for her since she was a kid. When she was little, she'd even called him Uncle Roland. But this was important. He shouldn't have even been here. "Second, I was told I'd be free. So clearly you lied to me."

He pursed his lips. "Tristia, this is hardly the time or place. Let us get you back to the hotel, and you can call your father and speak to him."

"What? You mean, before you bundle me up and put me on a plane back to Trinidad? I'm clearly not in any danger."

He ignored her. "Security has detained the young man to assess his threat level."

"His threat level? Drunk. That's his damn threat level. I handled it. Or did you not see me free myself from his hold? Sydney here was ready to blind him, and Xia diffused him. Not to mention, I know how to deliver a knee strike strong enough to kill a man."

He winced. "Tristia, please, if you'll just come with us, we'll make sure you and your friends make it back to the hotel safely."

"I am perfectly safe." Her heart thundered, and the hot wash of embarrassment flowed over her. She was not leaving. This wasn't what she'd agreed to. Not part of the deal. "How about this? You'll call him right now. Get him on the damn phone. I'm not leaving this club. I'm with my friends. If he wants me to come to heel, he will need to come retrieve me his damn self. Until then, I have some dancing to do."

Roland hung his head. "Please don't ask me remove you forcibly. I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends."

Well hell.