“Sorry, Trouble. Not much I can do about that.” Dramatically, I drop her hand and take a meter-wide sidestep. “Unless you want me to stay away from you?”
“Hey,” she says, grinning, “I never said I wanted you to stay away from me.”
“That’s good,” I murmur, resuming my position and sliding my arm around her waist. “Because I don’t have any plans to.”
My fingers dig lightly into her side, making her laugh harder, and fuck—that sound—a deep, genuine wheezy laugh, that’s so fucking funny it does dangerous things to me.
And we walk into the steward’s office still laughing, disturbing the man behind the desk, who looks up. When his eyes land on me, his shoulders straighten.
“Good morning, Lord Burlington. Delighted to have you back with us this year. How may I help you?”
I smile back and swiftly glance at his name badge. “Hi, James, I just wanted to double-check our match time. I could’ve sworn we were playing at one, but apparently, it’s twelve?”
His keyboard clatters as he brings up the schedule. “No, sir. Twelve o’clock is correct.”
“Huh.” I rub the back of my neck. “Could’ve sworn?—”
“Getting a bit forgetful?” he jokes politely, his eyes sliding to Ruby.
“Apparently so.”
“Happens to the best of us. And may I say, personally, congratulations on your wedding?—”
“Thank you.” Ruby’s hand calmly slips into mine, without the momentary freeze like she has been doing when anyone has mentioned our nuptials. When she smiles at me, I don’t give one shit whether it’s for show or not.
“Good luck with the tournament. We’re all expecting an excellent week of matches.”
“We’ll certainly do our best.” I nod, taking a step toward the door. “Thanks for your help, James.”
Replacing my sunglasses, I’m too busy reaching for Ruby’s hand to pay attention to where I’m going when we step back outside and narrowly avoid walking into someone heading for the office.
“My apolo—” My words die, and I freeze, though my blood hits boiling point.
“Well, well, well . . .”
The voice scrapes through me like nails on a chalkboard.
I’m staring into the black eyes of the one person I’d happily never see again. Not to mention, what the fuck is he doinghere?
I studied the tournament list thoroughly.Los Tigres Luchadoresisn’t supposed to be here. According to the schedules, we shouldn’t cross paths at all at this tournament. They’re supposed to be at Guards, a hundred miles down the road.
“You wanna watch where you’re going, Burlington.”
“Why? It’s not exactlyyourstrong suit.”
His eyes narrow because at some point in time, he decided it was intimidating alongside his body covered in tattoos, but he’s nothing more than a cliché. But then his gaze drops to Ruby, and she stiffens.
“Congratulations seem to be in order,” he says, his stare never leaving her. “I know you?”
“No,” I answer flatly.
“I think I do.” He drawls, “I never forget a face. Especially one like yours?—”
“Take your fucking eyes off my wife.”
He does, transferring to mine with a smirk I want to rip off his face. “Being in love is clearly agreeing with you, Burlington. If only we could all be so lucky.”
My fists ball. The only reason I don’t hit him is because I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
