Her fingertips had barely scraped the glass when two hands appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the witch by the shoulders and slammed him to the floor.
Alexander’s face was a blank mask, but his eyes promised fire and brimstone. ‘The lady said no,’ he hissed. ‘She didn’t want your drink the first time and she doesn’t want it now.’
Mallory slid off her stool. ‘I had it handled.’
‘I know you’re more capable than you look, but it doesn’t hurt to double down. It doesn’t hurt,’ Alexander said with a quiet snarl in the direction of the motionless witch, ‘to make it very clear in every way possible that you should take no for an answer.’
The witch made a last-ditch effort to rally. ‘That bitch was eyeing me up. She knew what she was doing. She was leading me on and then?—’
Alexander punched him in the face; there was the sickening crack of breaking bone, and blood spurted out in several directions.
The barman motioned him away. ‘I’ve got this now. I’ll call the MET and make sure he’s dealt with.’
‘Good,’ Alexander turned to Mallory. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine.’ She realised she was trembling. She swallowed and drew a deep breath. ‘Your intervention was unnecessary.’
‘It was very necessary. I knew from the moment he clocked you that there’d be a problem. I hoped he’d walk away when you turned down the drink, but he was too stupid for that.’ An angry expletive coloured the air.
Mallory stared at him. ‘You were talking to the troll and you looked like you were getting on with her. I didn’t think you’d noticed what was happening.’
Alexander reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers ‘Believe me, Mal, I noticed. Of course I noticed.’
Chapter
Seventeen
Boris was gazing at her with a strange expression on his face. ‘So he walked you home after that?’
Mallory nodded. ‘Yes. Sticking around for more speed dates didn’t seem appropriate.’
‘What about the troll?’
She shrugged helplessly. ‘I told Alexander he should get her number and arrange a proper date. He declined.’
‘Did he, indeed?’ Boris murmured.
‘What’s that tone of voice for?’
He sighed patiently. ‘Has it occurred to you that perhaps the reason he’s proving so obstinate when it comes to finding a woman he likes is because he’s decided he likes you?’
Heat rose in Mallory’s cheeks. Obviously she’d wondered about that – how could she not? – but she knew it wasn’t true. ‘I am one hundred percent not who Alexander MacTire wants,’ she protested.
‘Really.’
‘Really! The reason he intervened last night is because he’s an alpha and it’s in his nature to protect and defend. Right now he sees me as part of his pack because I work for him, and asI’m a squib and not a werewolf I need extra attention, which he’s only too happy to give. That’s as far as it goes.’
‘Mmm.’
‘I’m not sleek nor polished nor Preternaturally powerful, and the MacTire First Mate has to be all of those things. You’re jumping to conclusions.’
There was a knock on the door. Mallory untangled her legs and went to answer it. The bespectacled man on her doorstep was wearing the livery of the Coldstream Delivery Services and holding a woven basket. ‘Mallory Nash?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
He thrust the basket at her. ‘This is for you. Enjoy.’ He turned and thumped down the stairs.
Mallory gazed at the basket and its contents before she closed the door and carried it inside. ‘Problem?’ Boris asked.
