“Who is this guy? What do you know about him? He isn’t even from this country. I think he’s dangerous, Jaxx. It’s in the way he moves, the way he holds himself. You don’t see through all that European charm. He could take you off to some foreign land and hide you away where no one could ever help you. There’s been too many cases of that kind of thing.”
“Seriously, Harold, I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Jaxon tried not to laugh as she patted the older man’s arm affectionately. Lucian did rather look the type to secret her away in a harem. “I’m not some sweet victim who can’t defend herself. As it is, Lucian thinks I’m a bit of a lunatic. He says I own an arsenal.”
“I wish you’d listen to me, Jaxx. Don’t rush into anything. Take some time before you commit yourself. This guy is…”
“My fiance, Harold. He only looks scary. He’s really a teddy bear,” she lied. Lucian reminded her more of a huge wolf, lean and mean and highly intelligent. Except with her. He was always unfailingly gentle with her. She wanted to defend Lucian. He had saved Barry. He had protected the human race for centuries. But she couldn’t say that, couldn’t explain to Harry that Lucian had dedicated his life to the safety of others.
She turned back to Lucian, who immediately walked across the room to her side. He enveloped her small hand in his, bringing her palm to his chest to hold it over his heart as they walked out of the station house together.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
“You are very easy in the company of men.”
Jaxon glanced up at Lucian’s face. His voice was velvet soft, with no inflection whatsoever. His features were free of expression, yet as harsh and relentless as the wind, carved in granite, yet so sensual he took her breath away. For some reason butterfly wings brushed insistently at her stomach, and she was instantly nervous. She made herself shrug casually, annoyed that she would react so to his simple statement. “I work with men all the time. I trained with them. Grew up around them. I don’t even know very many women.” Now she was irritated because she sounded like a defiant child. She had no reason to feel guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. He was the one acting like a jealous husband.
She bit at her lip. He hadn’t exactly acted that way; he was just so intimidating. Power clung to him, and he looked dangerous. So much so that sweet Harold had thought to warn her against him. Maybe Lucian didn’t mean anything by it, maybe it was merely his accent that made his words sound so frightening. Or his lack of expression. She glanced up at him again as they moved together to the waiting car. Antonio was holding the door, open, and, for once, he wasn’t smiling. He was shaking his head at her as if she had committed some grave sin.
“What?” she burst out, glaring from one man to the other. “What?”
Lucian’s hand came down on the nape of her neck, exerting enough pressure that she automatically climbed into the limousine.
“She is trouble, this one,” Antonio whispered loudly enough for her to hear.
Jaxon waited until Antonio was behind the wheel of the car and they were moving swiftly toward their home. “I am not. What does that mean? Those men are my friends, my colleagues. I work with them.”
“That is why the older gentleman took such care to tell you I was a dangerous man, one you had no business being with? I heard him quite clearly warning you away from me.” Again there was no inflection in his voice, only that soft, velvet whisper of trouble.
“Well, what do you expect when you stand there looking all intimidating and scary like a Mafia enforcer or a hit man or something? You need to look more… I don’t know, more something.”
“Foppish?” he supplied softly, a hint of compassion escaping into his voice.
“What kind of word is foppish? Antonio, have you ever heard of foppish?”
“Antonio cannot hear us,” Lucian pointed out.