Vegas, Baby Volume 3 - Fiona Davenport Page 0,64
anymore. He started to care about only one person—himself.
When the fight finally ended, I jumped to my feet and started toward Vince. I knew if I didn’t go check on him that he’d find a way to make me pay for it. My brother had grown into the kind of man who never forgot a perceived slight, even if it came from the sister he used to protect.
“I can’t let you do it,” Knox rumbled, gently grasping my arm to stop me. “You go over there to check on your brother, and Saint will lose what’s left of his mind. I wouldn’t put it past him to beat the shit out of your brother even more after they put him on the stretcher he’s already going to need to carry him out of here.”
With the head of the Lennox’s security holding me back, at least I had an excuse if my brother got the chance to confront me over it. And if Saint meant what he said, then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about the threat to my safety anymore.
Knox must have misinterpreted my silence because he added, “I get that he’s family, and you’re worried about him. But they’ll make sure he gets medical attention for his injuries, even if the little bastard doesn’t deserve it.”
“I know,” I whispered as my gaze shifted to Saint. As freaking inappropriate as it was since he’d been up against my brother, watching him fight had turned me on. The six-pack abs, bunching biceps when he punched, powerful legs, animal magnetism...he was lethal grace in motion. I’d never seen anything like it before.
I stared at Saint as he did his interviews, expecting it to take longer than the few minutes he gave the throng of media. Before I knew it, he was stalking toward where I stood with Knox. Without saying a word, he hefted me over his shoulder. The crowd surrounding us cheered his name while Knox chuckled. “You’re welcome,” he called out as Saint strode away with me.
Saint lifted his free arm and gave Knox a quick wave as we moved through the crush of people. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t stop. He kept moving until we hit the locker room with his name on the door. He slammed it shut behind us, set me on my feet, and twisted around to flip the lock. When Saint turned back to me, his nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell as he took several deep breaths. “Explain.”
Although he still looked angry, I somehow knew it wasn’t aimed at me. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t intimidating. Because he was.
Taking a small step back, I stilled when a growl rumbled up his chest. My gaze locked with his and saw his eyes soften. “You’re safe with me. I would never hurt you, angel eyes.”
“Angelique,” I corrected when it dawned on me that he hadn’t been there when his friends asked for my name.
His lips kicked up in a grin. “It sounds like the nickname I picked for you was more perfect than I thought.”
My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “Why do you call me angel eyes?”
“Because the last thing I want to see before I go out of this world are those gorgeous eyes of yours.”
He put it out there so matter-of-factly, as though his admission wouldn’t rock my world. But it did. This incredible man seemed one hundred percent sincere as he claimed to want me in his life...forever. After spending less than five minutes with me. The whole thing should’ve had me trying to get past him to the door, but his declaration settled something inside me. The part that was already braced for the other shoe to drop. For the people in my life to disappoint me. Like my brother, the person responsible for me being in this mess—that just might turn into the best thing in my life—in the first place.
Swiveling on my heel, I crossed the small room and dropped onto the low bench against the wall. After patting the spot next to my right, I waited for Saint to join me before I said, “You might want to get comfortable. This could take a while.”
He untaped his hands, got up to grab a towel to rub over his sweat-dampened hair, took some pain relievers, and downed a sports drink. Once he was done, he returned to my side, lifted me up, and settled me on his lap