Page 3 of Claimed By a Knight

“Then let’s get to it.”

We blast through the night on Talon’s motorcycle at speeds I haven’t seen him ride in years. We whizz by buildings, cars, and people who turn their heads to look at the man flying like a bat out of hell. A ride that should have taken twenty minutes completed in half the time.

Talon pulls his bike into the closest parking spot he can find to the Casa Bella’s entrance. He gets off first and extends a hand to help me up like a true gentleman. All smiles now, the ride must have shed his gloomy disposition, and while I’m glad he isn’t moping anymore, I still think I preferred his lack of acceptance to this.

It was the closest we ever came to me fulfilling my teenage dreams of holding his hand and sharing my first kiss with him.I’ve kissed a few others since, but something tells me they’ll never hold a candle against Talon.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, as my eyes turn down to our hands that refuse to break even though I’m on my feet.

“Anytime, sunshine.” Talon brushes his thumb over my fingertips and finally releases. “Gonna need a ride home tonight?”

“If you’re up to it.” I slip the hand still burning from his touch into my purse and pull out a travel makeup kit.

“For you, I’d kill the bull.” Talon smiles, but his brow quickly furrows, and he shakes his head viciously. “Not literally, I mean, it’s like moving mountains. I’d never hurt a bull.”

I burst out into a laughing fit, my cheeks starting to ache from the intense smile his fumbling causes. “I know what you meant.” Because he’s said it before, usually accompanied by a terrible Spanish accent. “Oh God, my hair’s a mess,” I grumble, scanning myself in the small round mirror attached to my travel kit.

“You think?” Talon raises a brow, but his features remain solid as stone. “If you’re asking me, I’d say you’ve never looked better.”

My cheeks instantly flush red, and my fears from earlier drift away in a wave of giddiness. So, he did mean it the way I wanted him to? He’s not looking for a girl like me to spoil, no. Talon wants me. Compliments have come in the past, but never like this. So direct and honest, with a smile that could melt even the coldest hearts.

Gah, why couldn’t he have done this sooner? If nothing else, I feel obligated to go in there and meet the man I promised a night out with.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush,” I say when my spinning mind starts to slow.

“Too late, buttercup. Those cheeks aren’t getting any rosier from anything I’d say.” He pauses, stares at my cheeks that feel like two ovens, and chuckles. “Never mind. You’ve gone from rose pink to ruby red, and I didn’t even do nothing.”

“Stop.” I fake a slap against his chest, and he recoils from me as though it actually hurt.

“But go on, enjoy yourself. I’ll stay close by and just a phone call away.”

A phone call away?

Well, in the state he’s leaving me—swooning heart and soaked panties—that call might come a lot sooner than he’s expecting it.

3

TALON

Istraddle my motorcycle like the black stallion it is, ready to ride into the night and disappear from this place. For good this time, I tell myself and strap on my outlaw ten-gallon, staring off into the black, dusty trail outward.

It’s a nice delusion, isn’t it? Dropping everything and running away from your problems. Vanishing in the cover of night, starting a new life somewhere far away where no one knows your name. Maybe there, in this idyllic escape, Gracie’s right. I could find someone else, a woman all for me, with curled golden hair and a smile that melts my heart into my guts.

But I know the truth. No one will ever compare. Not to her. MyGracie.

I start my engine and begin to move. Slower now than what I did to get her here. And though it brings me no pride to admit that I did it to rush this thing along, I couldn’t go slow. My regrets set in the second we left her house, and they grew like a pit in my chest until I was fully consumed by aching despair.

If I gave myself an extra second to think, I’d never let her go through with this. Not with Ezra Green, not with some other handsome prick in a ten-thousand-dollar suit, no one. The thought of losing her, and no matter how you slice it, this will be losing her, is suffering I can’t endure.

This is how it starts, isn’t it? A casual date, testing the waters, we’ll still hang out all the time . . .

Until we don’t. Until she finds someone who consumes her fully. Passion, love, and lust, a perfect melting pot to fall headlong into. We’ll see each other less at first, make excuses as to how busy we’ve been, and pretend that everything’s still the way it once was.

And then, nothing. She’ll be happy, living a life with a man who should be me while I ponder the past and drink myself to slumber.

Christ, you big baby. If you’re going to cry about it all night, go back there and do something.

Logic and reason, two of my stronger skills when it comes to work, often fail me when I’m supposed to be a civilian. Cracking skulls and slinging dope come naturally, but being a friend and a shoulder to lean on? Fucking forget it. But that little niggling voice in the back of my mind, scolding me for being so damn foolish, always manages to steer me right eventually.

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