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Aiden straightened. Chalisa prayed Kingston was all right. She truly loved her brother-in-law and already felt bad that in the heat of the moment she hadn’t wanted the fight to stop.
But she couldn’t peel her gaze from Aiden. His muscular body was taut, dirty, bloody in spots, and beat up.
He was the most appealing man she’d ever seen in her life.
He looked her way, and there was no smirk or grin on his face. He simply snared her with his blue eyes and put his fist to his heart as if she’d captured his heart.
What on earth?
“Kingston!” Reagan cried out again, drawing her attention. Her sister was almost to him.
Stuart and Wes beat her there.
Chalisa ran for the stairs. What was wrong with her? If Kingston was seriously injured, they’d need her medical expertise. She hit the packed dirt and sprinted toward the group.
“He’s got a pulse and he’s breathing,” Stuart reported, kneeling next to Kingston.
Reagan reached her husband and sank next to him, tears streaming down her face. “Kingston,” she cried.
“I knocked him out,” Aiden explained. “I only used half the intensity I would if I was performing that hit on a criminal. He’ll come around quick.”
“What?” Reagan shouted, glaring up at him.
“He’ll be fine. Should wake up any moment. I apologize if I worried you.”
“Who are you?” Stuart asked, staring at Aiden in awe.
“I’m the second-best security expert in the world. You told me that yourself.” Aiden’s grin was restored.
Chalisa reached the group. Kingston was unconscious and would definitely have a concussion. She’d need to check for spinal injuries.
She looked to Aiden. She thought she’d be straightening his nose, dropping some stitches, checking his spine, and running a concussion protocol. Yet here he stood, mostly untouched after a vicious battle with the most accomplished fighter she’d ever met.
Aiden turned to her, and his smile was huge. “See how you worried for nothing, love?”
Kingston groaned and rolled over before she could reply. She had no idea what she would’ve said anyway. She was in shock.
“Kingston.” Reagan leaned in close.
He blinked up at her. “Reagan?” He sat up and gathered Reagan in his arms as he did.
“Kingston, you probably have a concussion and possibly spinal injuries,” Chalisa said, stepping forward.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, focused on Reagan.
“Are you really okay?” Reagan asked anxiously, framing his face with her hands.
“Yeah. A headache. No big deal.” He whipped around to find Aiden, his deep-blue eyes intense.
Chalisa almost sprang in front of Aiden to protect him when she should be insisting Kingston not move while they checked his injuries.
Kingston lumbered to his feet, helped Reagan up, and cradled her against his side. His gaze never left Aiden. Was he really fine? Would he go after Aiden again while hugging Reagan?
Stuart and Wes shifted uneasily. They were concerned as well.
“You got the first round, but I won the match,” Aiden said in his jaunty, nothing-can-touch-me voice. “I think you might need a spot of rest tonight, my friend, but you can have another go at me in the morning if you like. Or would you rather try to best me with a sword?”
Chalisa sucked in a breath. Aiden had lost his mind.
