Her heart thudded with the beat of the music, the loudness of it overwhelming every wayward thought that danced within the forefront of her mind. Every moment she spent here made the events of her evening somehow seem far more distant. She should have known better than to accept her mother's invitation to dinner. She should have known better to go alone. Alistair was going to be angry at her, if he learned of the evening at all, that was. Her martini glass was pressed delicately to her cheek, the redness from where her father had...'physically expressed his disappointment', as she liked to put it, had lessened substantially. He was bound to find out eventually, of course, that she had broken off her perfectly respectable relationship to a perfectly wonderful man who she, as much as she hated to admit it, missed. She was supposed to settle down and marry and acquire a big idyllic two-story house where she would have two children with her police husband. Oh, the life her father her dreamed for her, albeit preferably not in California, if he had his way. Her eyes fluttered open, the young woman preferring not to think at all of what her father's way would have consisted of. A soft breath left her lips as she pulled the coldness of her glass away from her cheek, sipping delicately on its fruity vodka laced contents.

It was the muttered word of an 'excuse me' that caused the young woman to shift ever so slightly on her much vyed for barstool, Emerance willing enough to make room for the blonde girl who slid beside her though she'd paid the woman distinctly little heed beyond that. At least, that was her intention, anyways. What she hadn't anticipated was that smooth English accent that seemed to fill the air between them, the poshness of the tone alone spoke well of his breeding and briefly, Emerance couldn't help but spare him a glance. What she hadn't expected, however, as her jade-colored irises turned towards the well-dressed man, was the sudden hint of lust that filled her. Lust, in itself, was somewhat of a new feeling for the girl. Her own experience was sex was that it was little more than a tool - something to be used to get what she wanted or something that was demanded of her in return. To truly lust after a man...for no other reason then how utterly dashing he looked...from the way his clothes were so tailored to his form to the very desire to run her fingers across his smooth chiseled flesh...this was something else entirely and how quickly she embraced those desires. Her tongue slid across her bottom lip as her gaze slowly, painfully deviated from the Englishman to his far quieter and somehow more unassuming companion that stood within his wake. Oh, how that look upon his features reminded her of her brother. Broody and self-pitying. Not that she could blame her sibling, after all, given the life they'd lived.

The blonde beside her was all too quick to pick up on the unspoken offer, providing the Englishman an 'in' faster than a minx in heat - not that Emerance could terribly blame her. Who wouldn't want that? Still...he had said ladies, hadn't he? As in plural. As in...more than one. "Good evening..." Her soprano voice near cooed as she placed her martini glass upon the counter behind her. Delicately, she slid it away from her, only to turn her gaze near pointedly towards the two foreigners in front of her. "I seemed to have lost my martini...it's a shame there isn't someone to get me another..." She commented, her brow raising with a clear hint of an invitation. Really, she was being shameless, even she knew that but...when you can't beat them...why not join them? That was how the phrase went for a reason, wasn't it? And how she would very very much like to join them. Or rather....him.