Page 26 of Passionate Defense

Heat crept into her cheeks. She loved it when he called her his girl.

“Do you carry that with you all the time?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“Probably not,” was her honest response.

“Then the idea has merit. I put it in my pocket the day of the lease signing and there it has stayed, waiting for the precise moment when it was needed. I was an Eagle Scout and well, you know the motto.”

“And out it came in an elevator. Who would’ve guessed?” she wondered aloud with a shake of her head. “I’m amazed at how much calmer I feel, more centered. You know me pretty well, don’t you?”

“Without a doubt,” he replied.

The doors glided open and, with his hand now discreetly on the small of her back, they stepped into the lobby of the Top of the Hub. While Ethan gave the maître d’ his name, she gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Boston skyline sparkling below the clear night. A few minutes early for their reservation, they were shown to the bar to await their guest.

As Ethan passed, heads turned in his direction, both men and women, their admiring glances following him. His suit was tailored perfectly to his tall frame, his burgundy tie adding just the right pop of color. It wasn’t solely his attire that commanded attention, however. Even in a pair of worn-out jeans and a faded T-shirt, he commanded attention, exuding an irresistible masculine sexiness. It was little wonder she and every other female in the room had a hard time looking away.

Their server was no exception. She hurried over as soon as they were seated, her gaze devouring Ethan like he was on the menu. It was as if his wife sitting across from him, who had the hardware on her left hand to prove it, didn’t exist.

She fumed as the woman preened for him in her clingy black top and short skirt. As she passed him the wine list then leaned forward to point out their signature cocktails on the back, her generous and obviously surgically enhanced boobs bulged well above her low neckline. With a mix of anger and odd fascination, Lanie looked on, expecting at any moment for the woman to come spilling out and smack Ethan in the face.

Lanie shook her head in disgust when Red ran a finger along her cleavage in a deliberate attempt to get her husband to look. As if anyone with functioning eyes could miss her mammoth melons. Ethan, however, didn’t take the bait.

“We’ll need a minute,” he said dismissively, his eyes on her, and not drifting anywhere near the floozy.

That’s my man,Lanie cheered inwardly, when the woman visibly deflated. Then her anger flared. Of all the nerve! Was she invisible by his side?

Having had enough, she cleared her throat, earning a cursory glance from the flamboyant flirt. The bitch’s gaze moved over her, and she actually smirked, clearly finding her no competition. Lanie raised her left hand and shooed her off, flashing her wedding ring and a two-carat diamond solitaire as she did so.

Her eyes flashed her resentment, but she had enough sense to tone down the blatant flirting as she laid down two cocktail napkins and an appetizer menu. Before she spun with a flip of her brazen hair, she promised Ethan she’d be back to check on him in a few.

Lanie glared at her back, livid. “I can’t fathom why a five-star restaurant would put up with such nonsense from the waitstaff.”

“I can.”

She looked at him, a brow arched in question.

“Isn’t it obvious? During the week, this place, especially the bar, is frequented by men staying in the hotel on business—alone.”

With an indelicate snort, she left him to study the wine list, an amused tilt to his sensuous lips, as she glanced around the crowded lounge. Most of the women wore evening wear, cocktail dresses mostly, making Lanie feel woefully underdressed. She’d come straight from court, with little choice but to wear her conservative suit, her hair up in her signature French twist. By comparison, she was dull and completely unremarkable. She should check her hair and makeup. Maybe kick it up a notch since it was evening.

She excused herself. “I’m going to freshen up.”

He stood when she did and bent to kiss her cheek. “Do you want something from the bar?”

She turned until her lips brushed his ear and whispered, “After that scene in the elevator, I’d love to have a screaming orgasm.”

Pulling back, Ethan flashed his brilliant white smile. “Me, too, but I’m not asking our waitress for one. Not today, not ever. Did you see her inch-long scarlet nails? She’s scary.”

“Mm,” she hummed skeptically, doubtful he feared anything. “Wise decision,” she agreed. “She’d probably take it as an offer and spread eagle right here on the table.”

As Red bent over to collect some glasses, Lanie couldn’t suppress her grimace as her skirt edged up higher and exposed a good deal of thigh. When she straightened, she noticed her boobs were testing the limits of her top, her bra evidently not up to the job of wrangling the titanic twins and keeping them contained. “I’ll have a vodka shooter. I can wait until later for the other.”

He pulled her against him and gave her a lip-lock so steamy it was worthy of the silver screen. It drew the attention of several of the patrons nearby, and Big Red noticed, too.

“That should hold her off for a few minutes, but hurry back. Without you, I’m unarmed, and she’s loaded for bear. I’m afraid if she gets close, that top is gonna give way and take out an eye, at the very least.” He shuddered in mock horror.

Laughing, she cupped his cheek and wiped the lipstick from his mouth with her thumb. “I’ll be back in a jiff to protect you. If she gets too pushy in the meantime, just whip out your cane and hold her at bay like a lion tamer. Be careful though. She may try to mount you because I think she’s in heat.”

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