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I didn’t want a man.
If I told myself that enough, I might actually believe it too.
“Get him away from the guests,” the manager hissed at Ezra. “You’re a disgrace. You’ll never work in Monte Carlo again.”
My laugh was loud and surprised boss man. He turned an angry shade of red as he glared at me through narrowed eyes. He was a bully and a shit boss. I didn’t think, I just reacted, tossing the contents of the glass at him before dropping it on the carpeted floor.
Ezra stepped between us and directed, “That’s enough for you tonight, sir. I’ll see you safely to your ride.”
I instantly missed the feel of his hands, the strength in his hold. Wavering on my feet, I wasn’t sure if it was an act or if I really was unsteady without his touch.
The flash of approval in his gaze told me the whys didn’t matter as much as the appearance. He wrapped his arm around my waist and hoisted my arm over his shoulder, readying himself to guide me bodily out of the room. I sank into him, secretly enjoying the weight of his body against mine.
No. I stiffened, mentally slapping myself stupid.
I faked tripping over my own feet, staggering as he led me out. Moving slowly, I didn’t fight him, but I did try to wander off, moving toward the dance floor until he pulled me tighter against him. I kept telling myself that it was all part of the act, but when another security guard tried to grab my other arm, I shoved him away none too gently.
“I’ve got this one,” Ezra explained, tugging me out of the security guard’s reach. “Keep your eyes out for the waiter that has champagne all down the front of his shirt. He was hitting on a woman near the stage. Her husband didn’t look impressed.”
We picked up speed, my stumble more of an arm-in-arm race to get to the doors of the ballroom.
“Fuck me,” Ezra breathed as we pushed through them. “You were amazing.”
“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” I muttered. “Tristan, Zali, where are you?”
“Right on your tail,” Tristan answered, coming up alongside us. We speedwalked down the corridor and into the main hall like our arses were on fire. I didn’t want to wait around to find out if someone was chasing us.
My heart was beating triple time, banging around inside my chest. I was riding an adrenaline high, my feet barely touching the ground as we pushed through the wide doorway and into the cold night.
I tore my jacket off without hesitating and draped it over Zali’s shoulders. Tristan shot me a half glare, half grateful smile at my action. Biting back a laugh, I pressed my lips together in a smirk and scanned the forecourt for the Maserati. Where was my baby waiting at?
My steps skidded to a halt as Ezra shot his arm out, stopping me from walking straight into Flynn’s path. He eased the masterpiece around the corner, bunny hopping it and revving the engine too hard. I had no idea how he managed it. It was an auto, for fuck’s sake.
“Out,” I ordered, opening the driver’s door when he pulled to a stop.
Flynn didn’t hesitate, sliding over into the passenger seat without another word as the others piled into the back.
Revving the engine, I listened to her purr. The rumble was like a caress. I tilted my lips up in a lovestruck smile and sighed happily. Yeah, this girl was my happy place.
Twenty-three
Zali
R
y ordered, “Buckle up,” and dropped the Maserati into gear, the tyres chirping as he fishtailed it out of the forecourt to the casino. I was sure there’d be people giving him the what for as we pulled out, but frankly I didn’t give a shit.
I. Was. Pissed.
“What the fuck was that?” I hissed through clenched teeth, startling all my guys.
“What, love?” Tristan asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
“Ryder. Coming onto some old lady? Hot mama? What the fuck?” My voice rose, my indignation getting the better of me. He’d been holding me at arm’s length forever. It was one step forward and three steps back with us every damn day. And now I find out that he’s into some old woman?
Tristan opened his mouth to reply, but I held my hand up, silencing him. “No. I want an explanation. Was a plan developed in the three seconds it took for me to adjust my earpiece after it fell out? Or is that the reason why—” I stopped mid-sentence, halting the flow of words from my mouth. I was giving too much away.
But maybe it was time to lay my cards on the table.
