Cari’s gaze traveled from Hagen to me, and I rolled my eyes. “It was either him or me,” I said, surprised by the sudden need to justify my actions.
“I know.” She snatched the duct tape from the ground where she’d dropped it and I followed her toward Orthus and Dirk, still carrying the chair. I’d made it fewer than five feet when I heard shoes slapping against the warehouse’s front steps.
I dropped the chair and was whirling toward the door, gun drawn, when Cari squealed from behind me.
“Cari!” A deep, masculine voice called. The speaker’s tanned, angular face came into focus an instant later— directly in line with the sight of my gun. He was too tall, and not quite bulky enough to be a goblin, despite an obviously solid build. Their boss? Was this the checkbook behind the hired goons?
“No! It’s Cale! Don’t shoot him!” Cari shouted, sneaker-clad feet squeaking lightly toward the door. My right hand shot out as she passed, capturing her wrist, and I jerked her out of the line of fire.
“Let hergo,” Cale ordered, stepping into the room, heedless of my pistol aimed at his forehead. Apparently he didn’t think I’d shoot.
He wasdeadwrong.
“Stop where you are.” My voice was clear and calm, belying the spike in my pulse. “Turn slowly and put your hands up. Or Iwillput a bullet right between your eyes.”Your beautiful, thickly-lashed blue eyes…
I blinked, trying to clear my head, along with my vision. What the hell was I thinking? Bad guys weren’t…hot. They were target practice. Gun fodder. A waste of perfectly good oxygen. Of a chiseled jaw and sandy blond movie star hair…
Cale’s arms tensed as he lifted them slowly over his head, jaw muscles bunching and shifting beneath sun-bronzed skin as he clenched his teeth. But he didn’t turn around. “You’re making a mistake.” He met my gaze boldly. “I’m here for Cari. Ask her.”
“I’mhere for Cari. And I don’t care if you’re here with a pardon from the fucking President. You’re not coming into this building until I pat you down.” And what an experiencethatpromised to be. Cari’s tardy white knight wasgorgeous, from his rain-damp, chunky golden-blond hair—several shades darker than my own—to the dimple on the tip of his chin. Seriously. The man had an honest-to-god chin dimple, not quite hidden by a short, scruffy-looking beard connecting to a trim mustache. And as if that wasn’t enough, he watched me through a pair of the brightest, clearest eyes I’d ever seen. Blue like the Caribbean, and shimmering like ocean waves. His eyes were incredible.
But I’d put a hole right between them if I had to.
“Lex, he’s my brother. Leave him alone!” Cari pleaded, trying to tug her wrist from my grasp. I held on tight.
Brother? Not her boyfriend?Hmmm.
Focus, Lex. I gave myself a mental shake. “He’s armed.” I could see the bulge in his shirt, beneath his left armpit. And yet he hadn’t drawn his gun. Was hestupid?
“He’s not gonna—”
“It’s okay, Cari,” the brother said, still watching me instead of her.Not stupid after all. “I do have a gun, but I’m going to put it on the floor. Alright? Just give me a minute,…”
Damn it, I wasnotbeing paid to deal with overprotective brothers. Even inconceivably good-looking ones. “Move slowly,” I ordered, trying not to sound as frustrated as I felt. “If your finger goes near the trigger, you’ll be breathing through your throat. For a minute, anyway.”
Cale Murphy nodded, blue eyes sparkling. He lowered his right arm slowly, slipping his hand under the front of an open blue button-down shirt, beneath which he wore a tight white tee. And apparently a shoulder holster.
He pulled his hand out slowly, and with it came a clunky-looking black-on-black pistol. It was a Desert Eagle. A fucking .50 caliber, if I had to guess, because men always thought they needed the biggest, baddest gun available. But what the hell did he need .50 caliber rounds for? Was he hunting elephants?
Yes, goblins could be hard to kill, but a bullet to the brain would definitely do it. Just about any bullet. A .50 cal was overkill.
Murphy held the gun up, aimed at the ceiling in profile, showing me that the safety lever was engaged.
“Put it down and kick it to me. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
He laid the gun on the ground, then he gave it a good nudge with one foot. The gun slid across fifteen feet of concrete toward me, slowing to thump against the bare toes of my right foot.
“Now take off your over-shirt.”And your undershirt. And your jeans, and your…
Lex! Get a grip!
Frowning, I barely resisted the urge to shake my head again, to clear it. I was in serious need of a cold shower.
In the doorway, Cari’s brother pulled first one arm, then the other from his open button-down, letting it pool at his feet in a puddle of blue cotton. Now fully exposed, his remaining white tee-shirt left no doubt that he was unarmed. At least from the waist up. His shirt was skin-tight, and the only visible bumps were the obviously hard ridges of his abs and the well-defined bulges of an impressive set of pecs.Hot damn. Somebody tookseriouspride in his appearance. And with good reason. Could the lower half possibly be as impressive?
Only one way to find out.
“Turn around and put your hands against the wall to the right of the door. I’m going to pat you down. You so much as twitch, and I’ll ruin that pretty face.”
