Page 12 of Protecting Salvation

Chapter3

Peyton feltthe hair on her arms lift at the sound of that deep, warm baritone she recognised. Her body instantly relaxed as she leaned toward Warren Tanner, aka Hurricane.

“Fuck off, this one’s mine. Go find your own.”

Peyton almost felt sorry for the asshole who, after turning around and actually taking in every inch of six-foot-three Hurricane, had released her.

“What did you just say?” Hurricane bent down slightly, cocking his head, his big body not showing any outward sign of violence but she felt it and so did the asshole. There was something predatory about that stillness, like a lion before it pounced.

“Whatever. Bet she’s a shit lay anyway. Slut.”

He shoved past her and Warren moved, anger in every movement but she touched his thick biceps that were stretching the sleeves of the grey shirt he wore. “Leave it. He isn’t worth it.”

Warren looked down at her and back up at the man who’d insulted her as if he wanted to go after him and teach him some manners. She loved that, but he was here and she was three cocktails in, and maybe she could get him to dance.

“Dance with me?” She looked around for Lotus and saw her chatting with Titan and Bram and tried not to snicker. She’d bet good money that if she looked through the crowd at the table they had in the corner, it would now be full of her friend’s husbands.

“I don’t dance, sugar.”

“Please?” She gave him her best doe eyes and he rewarded her with a lip twitch which made her heart skip. Seeing that beautiful big man grin at her like he couldn’t say no to her was a heady feeling.

“Fine but if I step on your toes, it’s your own fault.”

Peyton placed her hands on his shoulders as the music slowed to a more sensual rhythm, thanking God for her heels so she could even reach and he rested his hands lightly, almost hesitantly, on her hips. God, he felt good. Strong, and safe, like no matter what happened she’d be safe with him. He smelled incredible too, citrus and fresh and she had to fight the desire to bend her head into his neck and take a long sniff.

They moved slowly and she could tell he was awkward at first, but as she began to sway he followed her lead and she smiled. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”

“I said I don’t dance, not that I can’t. My mum and dad are from the West Indies. It’s in my blood.”

Peyton laughed, tucking that nugget of information away. She’d learned Warren was very private. He gave almost nothing away, but still managed to make a person feel comfortable enough to talk. It was a skill she had too, which was essential in her line of work, and probably his too.

“You good, sugar?”

The words rumbled through him and never in her life had she wanted to curl up in a sound more. From the very beginning, she’d been attracted to him, and not just because of how he looked. He was gorgeous, from his smooth, black skin and his gentle brown eyes to the muscles that seemed to stack on themselves there were so many of them. But it was his quiet, watchful tenderness that drew her in more than anything else. He’d been the one to notice how nervous she was in groups of men after her attack. He’d been the one to make sure she’d had her meat-free bacon because she refused to tell anyone she didn’t eat meat and be a nuisance.

One song slipped into the next and he didn’t leave, just danced with her, and kept his eyes on her, his hands on her hips, not wandering and trying it on. He was a rare breed of man, a gentleman in every sense of the word.

Sweat dripped down her back and eventually, she knew her feet needed a break. “Shall we get a drink and go see what the others are up to?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say you naked and in my bed. She wished she was that forward but it wasn’t her, so she just nodded.

Back at the table, it was as she’d expected with Aoife on Bram’s lap, Duchess and Gideon whispering to each other. Snow and Charlie had disappeared, and Bás had his arm around Val.

“So much for girl’s night!”

Aoife looked her up and down and behind her and raised her brows and waggled them. “Looks like you found your own hunk of burning love.”

Peyton shook her head and laughed. “You’re drunk.” She sat and grabbed her friend’s drink, knocking back the rest in one swig, and wincing as the Southern Comfort hit her tongue. “Yuck.” She pulled a face which she knew was unattractive and shivered.

“Serves you right for stealing.” Aoife poked her tongue out and Peyton laughed.

A hand on her shoulder had her fighting a shiver for a whole different reason.

“Want me to get you another?”

Glancing up she looked at Warren, who was leaning a shoulder against the post behind her. God, he was handsome. “Nah, I think I might grab a kebab and head home.” She tipped her head at her friends. “This lot seem busy anyway.” She didn’t mind. She understood being in love and how all-consuming it could be, at least in theory.