My stomach plunged.
But neither man spared her more than a glance. Magnus lifted one hand, dismissing her with a flick of his fingers. Leighton added a strained smile, and then, together, they turned their heads toward me.
Not beautiful, willing Marta.
Not Erika bustling past with a full tray.
Me.
Their meaning was unmistakable.
I shook my head once. Tiny. Desperate.
Leighton's lips curved in the faintest suggestion of amusement. Magnus merely tipped his chin, the command silent but absolute.
And my feet betrayed me. Step by step, my body moved without my permission, weaving through the tavern's noise until I stood before them, tray clutched in white-knuckled hands, pulse thrumming so loud I swore the whole room must hear.
"Lisa." Leighton's voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. His smile softened the harsh lines of his scar, but his eyes... his eyes held me captive. "I'm so glad we found you, love. Though I confess, I hadn't expected our reunion to be in quite this... spirited a setting."
I swallowed hard, shifting my tray to mask the tremor in my hands. "You shouldn't be here."
Magnus leaned back in his chair, but the tension rolling off him was palpable. His jaw ticked, his gloved fingers drummingonce against the table before stilling. "Shouldn't be here? You vanished like a thief in the night. Stole andsoldone of our horses." His eyes burned into me, unrelenting. "You're fortunate we haven't put the police on you."
My throat closed, words struggling past the guilt that tried to take root. "Why didn't you?"
"You know why, love," Leighton said simply, as if it were answer enough.
My pulse hammered. I wanted to scream at them, to tell them both to leave and never return, but the words stuck in my throat. At last, I forced them out, brittle and desperate. "Go. Leave. You don't belong here."
Magnus gave a dark, humorless laugh. "Oh, we're not leaving, little filly." His gaze dropped, deliberate, to the thin band of silk snug against my neck. His smirk was vicious when my hand flew up to touch it instinctively. "That choker on your neck saysyoudon't belong here."
Leighton tilted his head, studying me with infuriating gentleness. "You could have taken it off, love. Sold it. Left it behind." His smile curved, knowing. "But you didn't."
Heat flared through my chest, a wild mix of fury and shame and... desire.
I lifted my chin, refusing to let them see me crumble, even as I ached to climb into their laps and have them wrap me in their arms.
Chapter Twenty
I tried to pretend they weren't there. Truly I did. I carried mugs, cleared plates, even managed a smile or two at some of the patrons on the floor. But every time I turned, I caught them staring at me. Leighton's steady eyes tracked me while Magnus's hard jaw tightened with some thought I couldn't read. They stayed seated, silent, yet their presence weighed on me heavier than the tray in my hands, laden with beer.
And maybe that's why I slipped and tripped.
More than once.
Before they'd shown up, I wasjuststarting to get a handle on things, but it was as if it was the beginning of the night all over again.
Most of the girls shot me sympathetic looks, even while Marta scowled and Tom watched me with a leery eye as if he was already regretting putting me out on the main floor instead of hiding me away in the kitchen.
It all came to a head when I tried to deliver a pint to a table of dockhands. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a strong Afrikaans accent with sun-rough skin, let his hand wander far lower than it had any right to.
I froze. Shock rooted me to the spot as his fingers squeezed.
I knew what I had to do. All I had to do was look up, catch Tom's attention and let him sort it out. But somehow I lost all control of my limbs and stood there as this man felt up my rear end.
"Sweet little thing," he slurred, grinning when I stumbled back. "Pretty enough for more than a serving of ale, right?"
I opened my mouth—to protest, or call out for Tom's help—but the next thing I knew, Magnus was there. His large shape in my space as his fist collided with the man's jaw so hard the crack rang over the din of the tavern.
