The Wedding Rescue, Book Three(9)

At the pop of my fist against his nose, Peter yelped and reeled back. What he didn’t do was let go of me. As I teetered in my sandals, losing my balance as his grip on my arm jerked me back and forth, an arm came around my waist, steadying me. Dylan. Relief flooded through me. I wasn’t a fighter. That punch was the best I had in my arsenal. If things had gotten ugly, I would have thought of something, but Dylan could handle Peter better than I could. I knew my strengths, and beating up guys wasn’t one of them.

With a stiff chop of one hand, Dylan struck at Peter’s arm just above his wrist. Abruptly, and with another yelp, Peter let me go. Dylan took advantage of Peter’s whining over his wrist to slide me to the side, out of the way.

“Sorry I took so long,” he said. “I almost missed him sneaking out of the dining room.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” Looking up into his angry green eyes, I said, “I punched him.” Dylan grinned at me, still pissed, and now amused. It was an intoxicating expression.

“I see that,” he said, kissing me on the tip of my nose. Sweet again. He was killing me. “Do you mind if I have a word with him?”

I shook my head, suspecting that Dylan’s plan involved speaking with a part of his anatomy other than his mouth. Peter finally dropped his wrist and stared at Dylan.

“What’s your problem? Leigha and I were just talking.”

I could guess what Dylan was thinking. Something along the lines of Peter not touching me ever again. He didn’t bother explaining his position to Peter. Instead, he hauled off and swung. Peter’s nose was already dribbling blood from my punch. With Dylan’s, his face exploded red. It would have been gross if it hadn’t been Peter. I wasn’t a fan of physical violence, but Peter had it coming. Dylan hit him again, this time on the chin. Peter stumbled back until he hit the wall. His feet went out from under him and he slid to the floor in an ungainly sprawl. One trembling hand touched his nose.

“You broke my nose,” he sputtered, his voice muffled, as if he had a head cold. Dylan shrugged in disinterest.

“I’ll sue your ass off. You can’t do this to me. Do you know who I am?”

At that, Dylan laughed.

“No. But I know who I am. Go ahead, press charges. This hallway is under surveillance. You’re in my casino, asswipe. You assaulted one of my guests, who happens to be my girlfriend. Not only should you rethink pressing charges, I suggest you make up a good explanation for your fiancée on the way to the hospital to get that nose looked at.”

Did he call me his girlfriend? He did. Was it because it was easier and sounded more normal than calling me his lover? Or because he meant it? And if he meant it, what did that mean? My head reeling, I didn’t protest when Dylan took my hand and tugged me closer, tucking me into his side as we went down the hall.

“I don’t think we’ll go back to the party,” he said. I shook my head in agreement. As soon as we were clear of the restaurant and back in the casino proper, Dylan stopped and turned me to face him. “Let me see that hand.”

He lifted my hand and studied my knuckles. I hadn’t noticed until that moment, but my hand hurt. My knuckles were tender, the skin scraped on two of them. I hadn’t realized I’d hit Peter that hard. Dylan stroked my fingers and said,

“This is going to bruise. Let’s get you some ice.”

We were walking to a nearby bar, when I heard from behind me,

“Dylan, hold up.”

As one, we turned around to see two men coming toward us. Both tall, both heart stoppingly gorgeous. I was all Dylan’s, no question. But these two were perfect specimens of male beauty. One with short, dark hair, his eyes so deep a brown they were almost black, dressed in a suit much like Dylan’s. The other blond, eyes a bright blue, in a more casual button down shirt and jacket. They came to a stop in front of us and looked me over. The blond one said,

“So this is who you stood us up for? Nice.”

Dylan scowled back at them.





6





Dylan




Fuck. I should have known those bastards would be up to something. Sam had taken it too well when I’d called to cancel our plans. They were my closest friends, good guys, loyal to the end. I wanted them nowhere near Leigha. She was too tempting, and they were both dogs. So was I, but that wasn’t the point. Leigha was mine. I planned to introduce her to Sam and Axel eventually, but not yet. Not until things were more solid between us. Half the time she acted like she was completely into me. The rest of the time, she looked like she was getting ready to bolt.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked, aware I sounded annoyed and surly. Sam grinned. Axel raised his dark eyebrows. Fuck. They were going to be annoying. The three of us were best friends, but in the way of males everywhere, we never missed an opportunity to give each other shit. Apparently, it was my turn.