Page 46 of Precious Hazard

My eyes snap up, zeroing in on Tara’s face. Her smile is wide and friendly as she chats with the guy at her side.

Are they flirting?

I grind my teeth.

Doesn’t matter. She can flirt with whoever she wants for all I care.

The guy’s hand rises to Tara’s upper arm.

“Hey, Mr. DeVille!” Riggo shouts behind me. “Should I wait for you or…”

My feet eat the distance to the tent while my eyes stay glued on the scumbag’s hand on Tara. How dare he—

I stop in my tracks halfway to my destination. Nope. I will not act like some jealous oaf and make a scene in front of all these people. Just because—

The asshole’s hand slides down to her forearm.

A red haze fills my vision.

I close the distance to the schmuck in ten seconds flat. Snaking my right arm around Tara’s waist, I lift her out of the way while burying my left fist in the guy’s solar plexus. The man stumbles back, his foot catching on the speaker’s power cable. The giant electronic device, mounted on a tripod stand, tilts when its wire is yanked by the falling man. For a brief second, it hovers in place, but then the whole thing crashes down on the end of the buffet table. Several bowls and platters of food launch like projectiles in the opposite direction.

“What the fuck!” Tara wriggles in my hold. “What’s the matter with you? Why the hell did you knock out my cousin?”

Cousin? “You don’t have any cousins.”

“Of course I do. Baki is my great-grandmother’s second husband’s daughter’s nephew.”

I glance at the guy lying unconscious on the ground, then at the woman in my arms. “He looked…”Like he was flirting with you.“He looked suspicious.”

“Suspicious?”

He was caressing your arm!I clear my throat. “He has a gun.”

“Of course he has a gun, DeVille! He’s working security, for crying out loud. But in case you didn’t notice, every man here has a gun! Now let me down so I can check on h—” She takes my chin and tilts my head to the side. “Um… there’s something on your forehead.”

“What?”

“I think it’s…” She reaches out, swiping her thumb over my skin. It comes away smeared with something white and gooey. Squinting her eyes, she brings that finger to her lips and licks. “Yup. It’s tuna salad. Sienna spent tons of time arrangingthe garnish on it. She’s gonna kill you when she hears you demolished it. Put me down so I can help clean up this mess.”

I don’t want to set her down. The way her front is crushed against mine makes me aware of every inch of contact between our bodies. It feels so good. And her lips. So, so close. God, I want to ravage her lips again. I want to—

“Mm-hmm.” I quickly lower her to the ground and take a step back. “Right.”

Still, I can’t make myself look away from her, watching as if bewitched as she crouches and starts collecting overturned serving bowls and platters off the grass. She hollers something in Serbian, and several guests join her in straightening everything out. The rest don’t appear overly perturbed by what just happened. Most remain at their tables, drinking and laughing, and not even glancing this way. The band keeps playing on the far side of the tent. Come to think of it, the music didn’t even pause while I caused that scene. Everyone is acting like nothing at all happened. If anything like this occurred at one of our Family gatherings, people would be in an uproar. Shocked. Outraged. Indignant. Hell, at the moment, even I’m appalled by my own behavior.

“Hey, you. Italian boy.”

I look over at an old man in denim overalls who somehow materialized next to me out of thin air. He’s got a shaggy head of white hair and a long, scruffy-looking beard covering half his face. Deep-set, wrinkle-lined eyes glower at me from beneath his bushy brows.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“You hurt our Tara”—he leans toward me—“we kill you.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“And it will hurt. A lot.” He lifts his hand and makes a slicing motion across his throat. “Chop, chop head. Closed casket funeral. Capisce?”

I blink.Who the fuck is this guy?

---