Page 10 of Jude

I gave her time to straighten as our eyes locked, and for some reason, a wild jolt went through me.

While not my type, she was stunning nonetheless.

She had the most mesmerizing eyes: hazel, amber, and the warmest brown, with the most impossibly long lashes.

I blinked as a current of energy rushed over me.

The hell?

‘You OK?’ I repeated in a growl.

She stared at me in shock, from knocking into me, perhaps also because I sounded like a hoarse, throaty, hot mess.

‘You need anything? What’s wrong?’

She took a breath as her gaze swept past my shoulder.

Two airport police officers had just entered the far end of the concourse, their utility belts clanking.

The woman in my arms jerked her gaze between the approaching uniforms and the ticket desk.

She was hyperventilating, her shoulders hitching as she tried to find oxygen.

‘Hey, stop her! Get her!’ the ticketing agent’s screech shattered the terminal air as she pointed a manicured finger at the trembling stranger in my arms. ‘Guards, go after her!’

The command triggered an instant response from the cops.

The larger of the two guards broke into a full sprint across the polished floor.

He spread his arms out, preparing to tackle her into the floorboards.

My instinct took over before my brain could overthink the consequences.

I pivoted, using my bulked frame as a human shield, stepping into the guard’s path.

As the officer launched himself forward to grab the young woman, I jammed my forearm straight into his chest, checking his momentum.

The guard hit me as if he were lunging into a wall.

With a cry, he bounced back two paces, his boots shuffling for balance as his hand dropped toward his sidearm.

‘Step back, mate,’ I rasped, my timbre dropping into a lethal reverb.

I reached out, wrapping a possessive arm around the woman’s waist, bringing her flush to me, claiming her.

‘She’s my wife.’

I ignored my companion’s gasp of surprise as the guard stared at me.

His eyes widened as he registered the six-foot-three block of muscle in front of him and the cold menace in my eyes.

The second officer caught up, his hand freezing on his utility belt as he sized me up and quickly decided he wanted no part of me.

‘She’s with me,’ I repeated, my timbre cool, calm, and laced with a quiet confidence that broke their resolve. ‘The card is mine, and we’re insulted that the ticketing agent profiled her. You should be talking to her, not us. We’re leaving.’

The guards hesitated, exchanging a tense glance before jerking their chins at me.

The second airport cop offered me a tentative smile. ‘Sorry, boss.’