If he notices, he doesn’t show it. His nostrils flare, and his focus is on the injustice done to his family. “Don’t think you’re going to avoid jail time. Nobody from Huxley & Webber is going to defend you, and you can’t afford a lawyer good enough to stop what I’m about to unleash on you!”
I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens. “Let go of me before I press charges against you!”
“I’m the DA, not you!” he sneers.
“Let go of my fiancée,” comes Huxley’s cold voice.
Mick stiffens, but his bravado doesn’t fade. “Stay out of this! I’m on official government business.”
“Seriously?” Huxley cocks his eyebrow. “You, by yourself, manhandling my fiancée in public? Official government business? Let’s see just howofficialthis becomes when I file suit against the city on her behalf.” The words roll out casually, but his eyes are hard. They glitter like they did right before he slammed Nelson’s face into the wall.
Mick lets go. He’s always been a coward who bares his teeth against anybody weaker than him but tucks tail when someone stronger is around.
“Good. Now—if you and your family continue to harass people around me, I’m going to have to do something to show the world what kind of man Nelson really is.”
“He’s an honorable man!” Mick blusters.
“Who hits his daughter.”
“She asked for—”
“Shh!” Huxley raises a finger. “Think very carefully before you complete that sentence. She is the future Mrs. Huxley Lasker.”
A vein in Mick’s neck throbs. The Adam’s apple bobs, and his eyes dart between Huxley, me, then back to Huxley. “You’re going to pay for this!”
“Come collect anytime.”
“Asshole!” Mick says, then stalks off. He keeps his arms slightly spread, as though the gesture can hide his defeat.
“Are you okay?” Huxley asks, his gaze dropping to my arm.
“I’m fine.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t use that tone if you want me to believe you.”
I look up at his gorgeous face. The concern in his eyes. He’s so hot and cold—telling me he’s too busy to care about our baby, then making it clear our marriage is doomed before it can start, only to rush to my defense against Mick. My emotions ping-pong, leaving me unsettled and confused.
Still. Even if he’s hot and cold, I’m not. “Thank you for the help.”
“It was nothing.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you.” His eyes drop to my still-swollen cheek.
“You’re confusing me.”
A ghost of smile dashes across his handsome face. “Consideration shouldn’t be cause for confusion. Unless you have plans, let’s have lunch together.”
A refusal is on the tip of my tongue. I want to eat alone and lick my emotional wounds. But he’s here—taking time out of hisbusyschedule—and when am I going to have a chance to talk to him about my doubts before the wedding?
“Okay. You pick the restaurant.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Huxley
Contrary to her telling me to pick the restaurant, Grace apparently doesn’t really want me to choose, because when I suggest Mexican, she purses her lips. Korean gets a frown. She shoots down French and Italian. Finally, I suggest a sandwich shop and she says yes.
