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“Besides, Mick would have paid Sammy off first thing if he hadn’t died. And I hated the thought of you having to sleep with Sammy ’cause of Mick’s unpaid debt, which was only because of his dying and all.” Herbert pushed his glasses up further on his nose as if what he’d said was not wildly inflammatory.
“What!” Hunter pushed past her and grabbed the front of Herbert’s sweater. “Why would she have to sleep with Sammy?”
Herbert’s eyes were as wide as physically possible without popping out of their sockets. “That’s what he wanted when he talked to her at Mick’s funeral. That’s why I wanted to make sure she got the money.”
“Let him go, Hunter. Don’t kill the messenger.” Lilianna had been right about his reaction to that threat. She smiled inside because Hunter was so ready to kick ass on her account.
He released his hold on Herbert’s mangled sweater. He turned to her. His glacial gaze froze her in her tracks. “Why didn’t you tell us that this reprobate scumbag pervert demanded sex from you?”
“Because I didn’t want to see the look in your eyes that I’m seeing right now.” Lilianna still secretly reveled in his defense. She’d known he’d be furious. But he wasn’t angry at her. Not at all. He was angry for her.
“Relax, Hunter,” Dylan said. “Can you blame her for not wanting to share that?”
Hunter visibly relaxed in front of her eyes. She never had to worry about what he’d do to her. Never. Hunter cared about her. She knew he did. He’d proven it over and over in the past several days that they’d spent together in glorious seductive wonder.
The double penetration sex they’d shared had been the most profound of her life. Having both of them inside of her at the same time had been exquisitely intense.
She was in love with Hunter. She was in love with Dylan. And while neither he nor Dylan had said the actual words, she felt as if they loved her in return. Their actions spoke louder than any words could.
Hunter was obviously still lethally angry at Sammy for what he’d demanded at Mick’s funeral. The look on his face would freeze most men in their tracks. Lilianna couldn’t help but smile at the utter rage he had against Sammy on her behalf, provoking his ultimate protection of her.
She’d seen with her own eyes what he’d done to Sammy’s primary thug, Ted, almost a week ago in the parking lot at the bar where they’d met just to get past him. She shouldn’t be at all surprised that he wasn’t a huge fan of what Sammy had demanded.
“Dylan’s right. Once I got to know you, I figured you’d be pretty unhappy about his initial demands. But now I don’t have to worry about it.”
“Why?”
She pointed at Herbert. “He’ll give me the winnings. I’ll give over the amount of the loan plus interest to Sammy, and he’ll have to let me go. I’m certain he figures that I don’t have near enough money to pay him. And actually until this moment, I didn’t. This was why I avoided him. He could have put me down a hole where no one would ever find me.”
Herbert didn’t say anything, but his sudden frown seemed to indicate that he didn’t believe her statement.
“What?”
“Maybe you should send the money by way of a courier instead of seeing him yourself. I think that’s the best in this case, don’t you?”
“Are you volunteering?” Hunter asked.
“Bite your tongue. I don’t go near Sammy Heller for any reason. And she shouldn’t either.”
“He doesn’t partake of your services?” Dylan asked.
Herbert rolled his eyes. “No. He considers me small potatoes. I’d imagine if he ever placed a bet,” Herbert said, counting on his fingers, “that number one, it’d be a substantial wager, number two, it’d be way out of my league and ultimate comfort zone, and number three, he’d likely only ever make a bet like that with his Chicago connection, if you get my drift.”
“Who’s his connection in Chicago?”
Herbert shrugged. Hunter reached for the front of his sweater again. “It’s only rumor and speculation.”
