Page 49 of London
Gerard tensed, but held himself back, waiting for Linda’s reaction.
She immediately pulled out of the man’s embrace and stepped back, closer to him. Gerard placed a reassuring hand on her waist.
“Tony, what are you doing here?” she asked in English. “What do you mean by saying you came here especially for me?”
Tony poured on the charm in a chagrinned smile, displaying blindingly white teeth.
“Well, actually I have business in London,” he said, his accent reminding Gerard of Antonio Banderas. “But I did come here for you, specifically to see your exhibit.”
The man had ignored Gerard to this point, but when he noted the hand firmly on Linda’s waist, Tony’s jaw tensed. Hostility crackled between them.
“Thank you for taking the time,” Linda said politely, with the same level of emotion she’d used with the other patrons. “The exhibit is almost over. We were just leaving.”
“I understand.” He looked pointedly at Gerard, acknowledging his presence for the first time. “I see you have company, so I assume you won’t need a ride home.”
“No, thank you,” Linda replied. “As I said, I appreciate your coming here tonight. You can still go inside if you want to see the exhibit.”
Tony’s mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. “No, I seem to have arrived too late. I’ll just go back to my hotel. Obviously, I won’t be having as much fun as you will tonight.”
The dismissive look the man gave Linda made her cringe and move closer to Gerard. Fury unlike anything he’d ever felt washed over him in blazing waves. He placed Linda behind him and stepped forward.
“Just what exactly did you mean by that?” he growled.
The Italian raised an eyebrow. The fact that it was waxed and shiny with womanly pomade amused Gerard.
“I’m sorry, was I speaking to you? I was talking to my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Gerard amended. “If you didn’t get that through your thick skull in over a year, you’re not too bright.”
Tony’s face flushed. He glared at Gerard looking him up and down as though he were studying a bug on his thousand dollar shoe.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the one standing up to you. You need to apologize to the lady.”
Tony harrumphed. “As if that’ll happen. Where do you get off talking to me like that? Do you know who I am?”
“Does it look like I care?”
“You should.” Tony pointed a finger at Linda. “Just because you’re not my wife anymore doesn’t give you the right to embarrass me by acting like a whore in public.”
Then he turned to Gerard, a derisive smirk on his face. “You’re fucking the wrong bitch,amico. She’ll dump you for no reason, just like she dumped me. Even when we were married the men were after her like a bitch in heat. But the joke’s on you. She’s not even a good fuck.”
Gerard saw red. Roaring filled his ears as he lunged at Tony. In a fraction of a second, his fist smashed the Italian’s nose. Animalistic pleasure filled him at the pain in his hand on impact, at the sound of split cartilage, at the sight of blood pouring down the bastard’s face.
Linda’s cry of distress barely registered through the haze of his fury. He glared down at Tony, wanting more blood, more pain for the man who’d dared offend his woman.
On the ground, Tony held his face in both hands. Blood trickled through his fingers, his voice muffled as he cursed in Italian. He tried to sit up, but Gerard shoved him back, holding him with a foot planted on his chest.
“Stay there,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “If you get up before we’re gone, I’ll break your neck, not just your fucking nose. If you ever come close to Linda or even speak about her that way again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Deep inside, Tony must have recognized the truth in that threat and stayed down, his clothes slowly absorbing his own blood.
Neither Linda nor Gerard spoke on the way home. While Gerard didn’t regret his actions, he was grateful no one else had been around during the confrontation. Since it was late and the street deserted, the jerk hadn’t managed to completely ruin Linda’s evening by being an ass in front of patrons and guests.
Tony’s spiteful words must’ve burned her soul, especially since they’d been said so callously. That Italian maggot was an expert at manipulating her and destroying her self-confidence. No wonder she’d fled to another country to escape the bastard. He’d probably used a similar trick to get her to marry him in the first place.
When they reached Linda’s house, Gerard parked the car and turned to her. She sat, her head bent, nervously twisting the ring on her finger.
