But now…
A long exhale came from him. “Find my runaway bride.” He turned back toward the men. Kept the stockings in his bloody grip. “Kill the man with her and bring Delaney back to me.”
Chapter Six
“Hello, beautiful.”
Delaney stretched slowly in the feather-soft bed. Soft covers pressed against her, and a smile began to curve her lips.
“I hope you’re having some incredibly sweet dreams.”
Her eyes flew open as she finally registered that deep, male voice. Her gaze jumped from the ceiling to the bedside table to the doorway where a tall, hulking figure stood.
A figure who had his head turned away from her as he looked back through the doorway into the hall. A figure that was not Nash because she knew his massive body. A wild scream tore from her throat as she leapt from the bed and tried to scamper away from the man.
Where the hell am I?
The last thing she remembered was being in the front seat of a stolen ride with Nash and now, now?—
“Easy.” Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. “I was just coming to wake you up. Didn’t mean to terrify you.”
She could hear the fast thunder of approaching footsteps.
Her elbow shoved back against the man who held her even as she realized that his voice was vaguely familiar.
He grunted when her elbow hit him, but he didn’t let her go. “Delaney, is this any way to greet an old friend—ow!” His hold tightened.
She let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Wait, Delaney, it’s me and, dammit, dammit, Nash, stop!”
But, apparently, those thunderous footsteps belonged to Nash and he did not, in fact, stop. He grabbed the man who held her and slung him up against the nearby wall.
A framed black and white photo—appeared to be of a waterfall—tumbled to the floor.
And Nash, wearing jeans and a white shirt that emphasized his tawny skin and valiantly stretched over his bulging muscles, glared at the man he’d just casually tossed aside. “I said wake her up, asshole. As in, knock lightly on her door. Not terrify her.” Nash swung to face her. He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. We both know that Ryan is always a bit of a dick.”
Ryan?
“I am not.” From the man straightening his dress shirt and rolling back his shoulders. “I am an incredibly charming, kindhearted individual. I knocked softly on her door before entering. I definitely did that. It’s not my fault the woman snores like a freight train.”
She sucked in a deep, gasping breath.
Ryan Quinn—holy crap, that is Ryan!—inclined his head toward her. He winked. “A cute freight train, of course. But I had no choice but to open the door and come inside. And then, did I not begin by saying that you are beautiful? I am sure I did. I said, ‘Wake up, beautiful.’ Or, wait. Maybe I said ‘Hello, beautiful.’ Something like that.”
Nash growled at him. “I did not tell you to come in her room. I sure as hell didn’t tell you to flirt with her.”
Ryan’s hands flew up in front of his body. His palms faced Nash. “Easy there, bro. Rein in that jealousy, would you? You’re the one who sent me to her. If you wanted to wake her up and call her beautiful, then you should have done that job yourself. But, no, you probably didn’t trust yourself to come in and find her all rumpled and sexy in bed and you—Dude, I am messing with you! Do not dare take a swing at me!”
Nash had just charged at his brother.
Because Ryan Quinn was his brother. She’d grown up with them both, and while Nash had barely tolerated her during their early teenage years, Ryan had always been kind. And generally charming.
Nash had been the reserved and growly one. Or he had been, until their first kiss. The kiss on the side of the road that had changed everything.
Now the two brothers were glaring at each other, and the tension in the room had notched up way too high. “Don’t hit your brother,” she rushed to tell Nash.
Both men swung their heads toward her.
