"Well, at least she's alive," a mocking voice drawled as three Navy SEALs hunkered down to stare beneath the table. Eyes amazingly similar to Lyra's stared back at him. They quickly took in the fact that he wasn't about to let her move just yet, and she was fairly content to be where she was, insults notwithstanding.
"You can't shoot my future husband." She finally managed to wiggle past him.
Heaving a sigh, Tarek glanced across the floor as Braden came slowly to his feet.
"Are those ass**les bleeding on my kitchen floor?" Lyra was out from under the table just ahead of him, facing her brothers, hands on her hips. "Why are they bleeding on my floor?"
"Blame your boyfriend under there." The broadest of the four men faced her squarely, his black head lowered to snarl back at her, anger lighting his eyes. "He shot them. We didn't. And since when the hell is this your house?"
"Since I said it was." Tarek pulled her back, his instincts flaring at the other man's fury toward his mate. This was not acceptable.
"And who the hell are you?" Violence raged in the brother's expression. A violence he could damned well direct somewhere other than toward Lyra.
"Her mate…" His cold smile didn't go over any better than his announcement.
Pandemonium ensued.
Chapter Ten
"I can't believe you actually got into a fist fight with my brother." Lyra's expression was none too pleased later that night as she stood before him, inspecting the black eye and split lip he had gained from the effort.
"Neither can I," he grunted, wincing as she pressed the alcohol pad she held to the abrasion on his cheek. "It was wasted effort. You, Lyra, are a troublemaker. I've seen this tonight."
"Me?" She drew back, her eyes innocently wide as she stared back at him in surprise. "What did I do?"
"You antagonize your brothers." He caught her hips as she attempted to move from the bed where he sat. "You deliberately challenge their authority and continually keep them in a state of combat-readiness. That fight was your fault. Had you been a bit more forthcoming, as I encouraged you to be on the phone, they would not have charged in, determined to protect your honor." Her lips twitched. The little hellion.
"If you had stayed out of it, there wouldn't have been a fight." She braced her hands on his shoulders to hold him back from licking once again at the scratch she had somehow gained from the night's adventures.
The red mark extended from her shoulder, past her
collarbone, and although the sting was irritating, it was nothing compared to the fires burning in the rest of her body.
"No man gives you orders but me," he grunted at being denied access to her sweet flesh. He deserved something in reward for the aches and pains echoing beneath his flesh.
"You don't give me orders, either," she informed him imperiously. "What is it with you guys that you think you can?" He sighed wearily, seeing his life stretching out ahead of him, constantly amazed or exasperated at one small woman. Not that he wasn't looking forward to it. But Lyra had a habit of antagonizing her brothers where perhaps she should be less confrontational.
He was definitely going to have to talk to them alone in regards to this. She seemed to enjoy keeping them upset.
"The fact that you can so easily get into trouble?" He arched his brow mockingly. "Lyra, sweetheart, after discussing this with your brothers, I'm certain you are a trouble magnet." The fight had been a damned good one. Clean, brutal, fists flying, and curses raging as he and Grant, her oldest brother, proceeded to destroy the kitchen.
When they finished, Lyra had stomped to the bedroom to pout while they agreed to a beer and a heated argument on whether or not Lyra would stay with him.
Not that there was a question of it as far as he was concerned, but in the eyes of her family, he had seen their love for her, and their fears. He wasn't exactly the boy next door. He was a Breed, and he had just nearly gotten her killed. It would be enough to terrify a brother who had accepted responsibility for his headstrong sibling.
And they seemed to accept him and his ability to protect her. Most men would have been hesitant. Thankfully, the
prejudices against the Breeds were absent in the Mason family, due to the fact that her three brothers had been instrumental in the rescues of many of the Breed captives.
He pulled her to him then, his chest tightening at the memory of Creighton's gun caressing her temple, the bullet much too close to extinguishing the fire that warmed everyone she touched. How could he endure life without her now?
"You didn't have to fight them." She leaned against him, her slender body flowing easily against him as he lifted her to straddle his lap, his arms wrapping tight around her back as his lips lowered to the mark he had left on her shoulder. "I had them under control."
"You had them in cardiac arrest," he sighed. "Your poor father will never be the same."
Lyle Mason, the father in question, had been most
determined to take his daughter home, to wrap her in the protection he felt only he could provide. He had been a man tormented with thoughts of losing the daughter he so obviously adored.