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She cried out in pain, trying to get away, as Bradley struck her again. This time with his fist.
The knocking on the door stopped, replaced by a loud—really loud—bang. Then another and another, until suddenly the door crashed open and Luca stormed in like an avenging angel.
Bradley pushed Harper away from him forcefully, ready to defend himself from Luca’s attack. She had no chance of catching her footing as she stumbled backward into the coffee table, tumbling over it and hitting her head on the floor, hard.
It took her a few seconds to clear her vision and recover her wits enough to realize Luca had Bradley on his back on the floor—and he was beating the shit out of her asshole ex-manager.
She struggled to push herself upright, her head hurting, making her dizzy and nauseous.
“Luca,” she said, too softly to be heard over her sexy protector, currently cussing a blue streak at Bradley.
“You don’t. Ever. Lay a fucking. Hand on her. Again.” Every few words were punctuated with another brutal punch as Bradley lay curled in a ball, his hands trying to cover his face as he pleaded with Luca to stop.
“Luca,” she repeated louder.
That time he paused, her voice drawing his attention to her, his eyes going wide. She didn’t know what she looked like, but it couldn’t be good.
They stared at each other for just a second before two security guards rushed in.
“We had a call about a fight,” one of them said.
They reached for Luca, but Harper stopped them. “No! He was helping me.” She pointed to Bradley, whimpering on the floor. “That man attacked me.”
One of the security guards pulled out his phone, calling 9-1-1. “No one is leaving here until the police arrive.” He seemed to change his mind when he looked at her. “Should I call back for an ambulance?”
Harper lifted a hand to her face, shocked to discover blood on her fingertips. “Blood?” she asked, dazed. “What’s bleeding?”
Luca reached for her hand, pulling it away. “Don’t move.” He walked to the kitchenette and grabbed a tea towel that he wetted at the small sink. When he returned, he knelt in front of her. “You’ve got a cut on your forehead, a split lip, and a bloody nose.”
“Ouch,” she said, only half joking.
Luca didn’t laugh as he gently wiped away the blood. “Jesus Christ, Harper. I heard you screaming and… When he pushed you, and you hit that table…” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Fuck me,” he muttered.
“I’m okay,” she lied. Her head hurt like a motherfucker, and she could now feel the sting from the bleeding cuts. “What are you doing here?”
“I grabbed your phone instead of mine. Didn’t realize it until I got to the restaurant. I’m glad the hotel and restaurant are so close.”
It wasn’t the first time the two of them had accidentally swapped phones. They’d even had a play fight this weekend, arguing about which one of them should have to buy a new case so they could tell them apart. It had been a silly debate, with Conor serving as judge.
“Thank God,” she whispered, as it sank in how much worse things could have gotten if he hadn’t returned. Bradley had been unhinged, and she didn’t want to think about all the ways he could have hurt her.
The two security guards had helped Bradley to a sitting position, and a third man arrived, standing in the doorway of her broken-in door. Bradley’s gaze kept sliding from the guards to the door, no doubt hoping for a chance to escape.
“What the hell happened?” Luca asked.
“He wanted me to come back to New York. To the agency. It’s in trouble. He’s the one who’s been sabotaging the reconstruction.”
Luca scowled. “Did he confess to that?”
She shook her head. “No. But I know he did it.”
Luca glanced over his shoulder, cracking his knuckles as he glared at Bradley.
Bradley caught his malevolent stare and quickly looked away, obviously nervous Luca would come back for another round.
Harper tried to stand, but Luca placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stay there, Harper. Until the EMTs get here. Let them check you out to make sure nothing is broken.”
She did her own small inventory, wiggling feet and hands, twisting a wee bit to check her ribs. “I don’t think anything is.” She suspected all her injuries were the ones already visible, except for the bruises he left on her arms when he shook her.
