“Let go of me you fucking Pom!” the woman screeched, lashing out at Aslin with her free arm.
Rowan blinked again. Pom? That was the second time she’d heard Aslin called a drink. What the hell did it mean?
Don’t you think the more important question is why did she run when she saw him? Or even, who the hell she is?
“Ah, you know I can’t do that, love,” Aslin’s chuckled voice came to Rowan, his humoured tone surprising her. “Now stop being silly before I have to hurt you.”
The woman screeched some more, louder this time, her legs joining in her free arm’s wild attempts to do Aslin damage. It wasn’t working. The Brit was too tall, too large for her to even come close with any of her frenzied blows.
Film crew was coming from everywhere to watch the show. Most gave Rowan curious looks before turning back to Aslin and the incensed, flailing woman. Some, Rowan could hear, started placing bets on how long it would take before Aslin knocked her out.
“Fucking Pom,” she continued to wail, her face twisted into a murderous glare. “Lemme go, you fucking Pom.”
“Insulting my nationality is only going to make it worse, love.” Aslin’s voice turned to a purr. To Rowan’s ears it sounded like his British accent grew thicker. More pronounced. “Now tell me how you got in—”
“Rhodes!”
Rowan jumped at the sound of her brother’s shout. She turned away from Aslin and the struggling woman, watching Chris run toward them both, his personal assistant stumbling to keep up behind him.
Her stomach dropped. He looked furious.
“It’s okay, Chris,” Aslin said, dragging the woman behind him, even as she squealed so loud it hurt Rowan’s ears. “I’ve got it under—”
“When I asked you to look after my sister,” Chris’s shout cut over Aslin’s calm statement and drowned out the rabid fan’s cries, his speed increasing the closer he got to Aslin, “I didn’t mean fuck her on the back of your bike for the whole world to see!”
A collective gasp went through the gathering crowd. All stares snapped to Rowan. All of them. Including Aslin’s.
Which meant it was only Rowan who saw Chris smash his balled fist hard into Aslin’s jaw.
Only Rowan who watched Aslin’s entire body tense as he recoiled from the blow a heartbeat before he fixed his focus back to her brother.
Only Rowan who saw his face turn to a mask of cold, deadly fury.
And then all hell broke loose as Chris tried to punch him again.
Chapter Seven
This is what happens when you get mixed up with the Hollywood crowd, boyo.
The surreal thought tickled through Aslin’s rage…a second before he clamped his fingers around Chris Huntley’s fist, capturing it mid-swing on its second attempt to smash into his jaw.
“Fucker!” the actor shouted. “You fucked my sister on a bike, you fucker!”
Sharp pain detonated in Aslin’s shoulder, and it was only a quick look to his right that told him the woman from the café yesterday had sunk her teeth into his flesh. He shrugged her off just as she slammed a foot at his shin.
Fresh pain stabbed into his leg.
“I fucking trusted you, man!” Chris was shouting in his face, desperately trying to yank his hand free of Aslin’s hold. “I trusted you.”
Aslin turned back to the incensed actor, his blood roaring in his ears. Christ, what a soddin’ balls up.
“Chris,” Rowan’s cry rose above the ruckus. She wormed her way between them with determined strength, her hand pressing flat to Aslin’s chest, her thigh wedging against his groin. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”
Chris didn’t stop. He glared up at Aslin, hate in his eyes. “I trusted you, man.”
Another bite in his shoulder made Aslin release the woman in his right grip. Someone else would have to deal with her. Chris was more important.
He heard a scuffle of feet, a loud oof, someone mutter, “freaking bitch” and more feet pounding the concrete, but he didn’t tear his focus from the angry young actor still trying to get at him.
“Chris, I didn’t make love to Rowan.”
“He didn’t, squirt.” Rowan shook her head, pushing hard on Chris’s chest. “Honest.”
Chris dropped his glare to her, his brow furrowing. “Then explain the photos plastered all over the net. It sure as hell looks like he was about to get to third fucking base.”
Hot anger punched into Aslin’s gut. He ground his teeth.
Holston.
Rowan flicked him a quick look, realization flaring in her eyes.
Aslin lifted his stare to her brother’s face. “Chris, I know what it looks like, but you need to let me—”