Page 75 of Taming Irish

Large fingers wrap around my wrist and he leans in, close enough that I can smell the whisky on his breath. He slurs, “I thought your friend was comingback.”

From the corner of my vision, I see the beady-eyed man shift in hisseat.

“Remove your hand.” My voice sounds more confident than Ifeel.

“You look familiar.” His grip tightens and he squints at me. Then, a grin spreads across his face, and he tugs me closer. With how crowded the bar is, no one seems to notice. With his free hand, he takes his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture of me. “You’re that crazy bitch that was stalking ChadHollister.”

“Let me go.” My voice is shakynow.

When he takes another picture, I grab his phone and toss it on the floor, crushing my heel into it. It shatters. It’s probably not my smartest move, because now we have a smallaudience.

“Bitch,” he slurs, pushing my back painfully against the bar. “You’ll pay forthat.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll release her.” The beady-eyed man towers over the blond guy, murder in his eyes. “Now.”

Even I suck in a breath at how intimidating he is, and my wrist is instantlyfreed.

I don’t bother with a thank you. I just take off, darting through the crowd and into the nearestrestroom.

What justhappened?

Taking a few deep breaths, I splash cold water on my face and glance at my reflection in the mirror. I’m never going to get away from the stigma Chad branded me with when he let those reporters write those stories aboutme.

And now, I’m probably going to have this guy sue me forvandalism.

A groan bubbles in mythroat.

I need to get out ofhere.

But as soon as I exit the restroom and start towards the exit, I feel rather than see the hulking form that follows close behind me. The beady-eyed man is there, his gaze dark andintimidating.

I make it outside, desperately searching for a taxi, but there aren’t any. The shadow has followed me. There are a few people walking by, but I can’t help the fear that chokesme.

“What?” I scream, turning on him. “What do you want? My picture? A story?” I throw my hands up, and the man looks shocked by my outburst. “Why won’t you people just leave mealone?”

Large arms wrap around me, pulling me back against a solid wall ofmuscle.

I let out a smallshriek.

“Easy, love,” a deep, familiar brogue says against my ear. “It’sme.”

I turn in his arms, looking up into the sage eyes that frown down atme.

“Shane,” I saybreathlessly.

“Are ye allright?”

“That…that man…” The beady-eyed guy is still watching us, along with a handful of strangers that stopped to watch the Makena Fraser Freak-OutShow.

“Joey’sharmless.”

I frown up at him. “You knowhim?”

“He works forme.”

“Foryou?”

He sighs and he starts to lead me towards the Ferrari that’s parked, still idling a few feet from us. “Let’s get ye back to thehotel.”

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