Page 6 of Law

She screeched and jumped to her feet. He hadn’t expected her to move, and her shoulder slammed into the bottom of his chin so hard he saw stars. Staggering backward, he took the time to make sure she hadn’t broken his jaw. If she’d hit him hard enough to leave a bruise, his brothers were going to give him shit for the rest of his life. And he’d deserve it.

Lovelyn skuttled around the floor, gathering papers. That didn’t say much about her impression of him as dangerous. She’d be wrong about that. Very wrong. Not that he intended to hurt her, though if she were his, her behind would be in danger of a good tanning for wandering around such a dangerous place by herself.

She stood, holding the papers before her like a shield. Her gaze swept over him from head to toe. “Listen, you… you Viking. Don’t you know you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Viking? He could see that. The Vikings had been warriors. He got it. With his blonde hair, shaved close on the sides but a bitlonger on top, his tattoos, his height, and physical condition, he understood why she associated him with ancient warriors. And no, he didn’t puff his chest out or throw his shoulders back to make himself appear more formidable. When she shrank back, he felt like an ass.

Because you’re acting like one.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Zane is in the conference room. I’m here to get you both out, but we need to go.”

She relaxed. At least she stopped cowering. She even went so far as to give him a tight smile. That’s right, soothe her ruffled feathers like she’s not some self-centered diva.

A diva now shaking her head. “Sorry, but I can’t leave yet. I only have a few more pages. If you could give me five more minutes.”

Was she crazy? Did she not hear the chaos all around her? Good question. A better question: did she think of no one but herself? He clenched his fist to keep from tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her out the door. “Only five?”

She beamed a smile at him that damn near made him forget her attitude. She was beautiful all the time, but when she smiled at him like that, like she thought the sun and moon followed his commands, she went from beautiful to stunning.

What was he doing? He was no Viking, well, not much of one, but she might very well be a Norse Völva. Just like those witches of old who were respected and feared for their knowledge and ability to manipulate.

That she flinched when he stepped toward her did not move him. He snatched the papers from her hand and tossed them in the fire.

“Wait!” She dove for the papers and would have reached into the flames for them if he hadn’t stopped her.

She turned on him, anger heating the fear in her eyes. “What did you do? Are you crazy?”

“Me? Woman, you were about to stick your damn hand into the fucking fire. What the hell was I supposed to do, sit by and watch?”

“Well, they wouldn’t be in the fire in the first place if you hadn’t yanked them out of my hands and tossed them in there. Who does that? You… you potty mouth.”

It took way more effort than it should to keep his lips from twitching up at the corners. Instead, he gave her a well-practiced glare. “I do, when someone has her head so stuck in said papers she’s putting herself and those she claims to love further in danger.”

Her demeanor shifted before his eyes. She melted from defiance to confused concern. Better late than never. “I’ll have you know those papers— wait. What are you talking about? Who’s in danger?”

Was she kidding him right now? His head might explode. “What do you mean, who? You and Zane, who else?”

Her eyes, those deep, rich, honey brown eyes, widened. At last, she was catching on. Maybe now she’d stop arguing and do as she was told.

He should be contemplating strangling her right now. He hated it when people didn’t follow the plan. And yet what he felt wasn’t anger. Not even close. He fought the urge to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right.

The fearful hope in her voice was palpable. “Zane? My Zane?”

Now it was Law’s turn to battle confusion. “Are you saying you didn’t know he was here? How could you not know? He’s your brother.”

The color drained from her face as she shook her head and backed away from him. He had to grab her arm to keep her from backing into the fire. “No. No, that can’t be right. I didn’t… I would never…” Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. And damn if he didn’t feel better seeing a bit of her fire return. “He can’t be here. I’d know. I mean, they’d have told me if he was here, wouldn’t they?”

Damn. He loved her tenacity and spunk. She was a piece of work. Work of art, that was. “Calm down, little fairy cat. If you don’t, I’ll have to start calling you wildcat?—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. And my name is Lovelyn, not fairy cat or wildcat.”

“Well, I’d say that depends on how much sass you’re dishing out. At the moment, you’re definitely channeling your inner wildcat.”

A disgruntled frown settled on her face, and she even managed to make it look adorable. Then, crossing her arms, she hmphed at him. No one had ever hmphed at him before.

She took his breath away. Although her height was above average for a woman, she was still nearly three-quarters of a foot shorter than him. Even with all her soft, luscious curves, he had to outweigh her by eighty pounds.

And she wasn’t afraid of him at all. At six feet five inches and two hundred thirty pounds, he was accustomed to people being wary of him at the very least. Young children were known to hide when they saw him approaching.