you sure you are not mistaken, Selina? My Lawrence said Mr. Fane is very fair. He also said he is…what was the word he used?” She tapped an inch-long acrylic against her temple. “Ah, yes, deadly. Deadly but fair. What a funny combination.” She laughed and dabbed at her right nostril for perhaps the fiftieth time since they’d been introduced.
“Mr. Fane?” Selena said, frowning. “Oh, but I thought he was Hector Sala?”
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
They all looked up to see the man who’d stopped Lucian and Yasmeen in the atrium. He was looking at Yasmeen.
“I have been watching you look for an escape route.” He winked. “I thought I might help.”
Before she could tell him to go to hell, Sorin was at her side. “Come, Ms. Michaels.”
“Not yet, Arcos. I am speaking with Ms. Michaels. Keeping her company while Lucian is occupied.”
Sorin took her arm and brought her to her feet. “Lucian would like you at his side.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left her,” Hector commented in a firm voice as he reached for her wrist.
Sorin chopped it away hard enough to break it and stepped in front of her to look down at the man. “I will have that hand playing your colon like a flute if you attempt to touch her with it again.”
The girls behind them giggled as they got up and moved away. Mortified that this asshole was causing a scene, Yasmeen tried to see around Sorin’s broad back so she could get Lucian’s atten—
“Hector, Hector. Still crass enough to risk a public disturbance merely to humiliate yourself in front of another man’s property. I feel pity for your father.”
Like the idiot she was, Yasmeen silently moaned with a helpless feminine appreciation, swallowed a whimper of relief, and felt her panties grow wet all in the space of three seconds. She also inched to the side when Lucian’s back joined Sorin’s in front of her.
Her temples started to pound along with her heart. A security guard pushed his way out the door. She peered through to see a long deserted hallway. It closed. She could hear the men talking, and paid no attention when a couple of others in nice suits and ear pieces joined them. Hector, who’d been led to the side, was staring at her again. It felt as if millions of tiny spiders were crawling over her, and it only got worse when he smiled. Sorin was saying something to Lucian. Both of them were turned away from her. The door opened. A dealer in a pressed white shirt came out.
Barely able to breathe as the slave band around her throat grew tighter and tighter, Yasmeen quit thinking and darted the few steps over to slip through the closing panel. She ripped the choker off and stood there, her lungs locked, whimpering as she watched Lucian’s broad back disappear.
Just before the latch engaged, the door was pushed open again to allow two big bodies through. When it was slammed shut, it wasn’t her angry Romanian and his adorable meathead standing with her. It was Hector and one of his.
TWENTY-ONE
The moment Lucian saw his men drop position and shove by Sorin, he whipped around. Just before the security door slammed shut, he caught sight of Yasmeen looking up at Hector and one of his henchman. Didn’t matter why she was in a place she should not be, all Lucian could think was, finally, he could kill something.
A film of red cloaked his vision as he pointed for half their crew to go right while he, Sorin, and Spencer went left. They knew the layout of the casino well because it was Lucian’s. With any luck, Hector also knew where he was going. To the nearest exit.
Slamming out an unmarked door in the far corner, Lucian had to fight with Sorin to stay in the lead. “Get the fuck behind me,” he growled.
“Fuck you,” was his pain-in-the-ass’s response.
“You touch Hector; I’ll shoot you before you land one shot.”
Sorin chuckled. “Fine. I’ll take Rolph.”
“What’s happening here?” Spencer muttered in a strong Irish accent. “Are you two fighting over who gets who?”
“Yes. You get no one,” Lucian taunted, uncharacteristically participating in a conversation. He felt almost high because he knew what was coming. Something quick but satisfying. “You may call in the cleaning crew. They are waiting outside.” He elbowed Sorin out of the way again. “I get Sala. You get Rolph,” he confirmed once more to be sure it was understood.
Sorin grunted, and