Page 35 of The Rebel Billionaire

My brain slid off therails.

Lucas Jackson was wearing a tuxedo. His thick, dark hair hung in his face and his bowtie was slightly askew, but otherwise, he looked as if he'd stepped right off the ballroomfloor.

With his tattoos covered up, he looked almostrespectable.

Almost.

There was a hardness to his face, something in his eyes that was too alert, tooonedge.

Respectable was safe. Lucas Jackson radiateddanger.

But I was ignoring the most obvious point. Lucas Jackson in a tuxedo was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in myentirelife.

The tux must've been custom tailored because it fit his broad muscular frame to perfection, showing off his lean waist and his long legsbeautifully.

It was enough to distract me from the throbbing pain inmybody.

I wondered if he'd let me unwrap him like a present after he was done yellingatme.

Ihopedso.

CHAPTERNINE

LUCAS

Charlie was staringat me like she wanted to lick me from headtotoe.

This was notthetime.

It wasn't easy, but I tried to ignore the heat in her blue eyes and focus on cleaning her face. Blood dripped from a raw patch on her temple where the attacker had ripped out more than a few strandsofhair.

She'd hit the ground hard, leaving an ugly, raw scrape on her cheek, tearing the shoulder of her T-shirt, and probably bruising the fuck out of her hip andshoulder.

Goddammit.

I didn't get scared. I'd learned a long time ago that fear is the enemy of rational thought. In my line of work, I had to think clearly and make smartdecisions.

I did not get scared. Not for me. Not foranyone.Ever.

So I didn't know how to explain the ice in my gut when I'd seen Charliegodown.

One second, I was sitting in the cab of my dark truck, texting the client for the night's job before I went in and watching Charlie walk down the street, her bag of take-out swinging fromonehand.

I got distracted from my text at the thought of all the things I was going to do to her after I changed and knocked on her back door, when out of nowhere, a figure erupted from the trees and launched itself at Charlie, taking her to the ground in a hit so hard I imagined I could feel it from twentyfeetaway.

Rage had flooded mybrain.

Rageandfear.

Images kaleidoscoped through my head—all the things the attacker could be doing toCharlie.

Did he have a knife?Agun?

I couldn't see them anymore from my position in the truck, but I was moving before the thought wascomplete.

Diving out of the truck, I raced around the back to see indistinct dark figures rolling in the scrubbygrass.

Charlie somehow broke free and stood frozen for a heartbeat before taking off toward the neighbor'sfrontdoor.