Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

Louis Comeaux pulled his cousin away. Thibodeaux went back behind the bar and the band took a break. At once the jukebox was blaring. She noticed everyone was smirking. Gator was back in good graces. According to the law of the bayou, he had every right to protect what was his.

    “Come outside with me,” Flame demanded.

    Gator grinned at her, his dark gaze never leaving hers. “I’d follow you anywhere, especially into the night.” Raising his voice he called to his brother. “Wyatt, I’m leaving with mon amour . Catch you later.” His fingers shackled her wrist as she started toward the door. “Stay right beside me.”

    Flame shot him a venomous look. “Don’t think you can order me around.”

    “You asked me to go outside with you, cher .” He pushed open the door but retained possession of her wrist. “And I’m obliging.”

    He was strong. She should have taken that into account, that whoever was sent after her would have had at least muscle mass enhanced. His body was fit. When he held her, he felt like iron pressed up against her, no give to his body at all. Flame let her breath out slowly, trying to swallow her anger as she moved away from the light and the possibility of anyone overhearing them.

    “You can let go of me now.”

    “Not quite yet.” His free hand slid down her back and over her buttocks, lower to her thighs. He pushed the hem of her dress up, his palm sliding over her bare bottom, finding the small tee of lace that disappeared between her bare cheeks. His hand moved lower still, between her legs to the inside, slipping over the soft skin of her thighs until he found the leather scabbard. Due to the uneven length of her dress, the knife was positioned high up on her thigh and as he removed it, his knuckles brushed multiple times against the most sensitive intimate spot between her legs.

    Flame clenched her teeth together and refused to ac knowledge the shock waves rippling through her body with each feather-light contact. “Did you enjoy that?”

    “More than you’ll ever know.” He shoved the knife into a short leather scabbard looped through his own belt. “My grandmother is expecting you for tea tomorrow. I told her I’d bring you.”

    “I want my bike back.”

    “Then I guess you’ll be comin’ for tea, won’t you?” His grin widened. “You do get yourself into scrapes, cher .”

    “If you’re referring to that drunken idiot, I could have handled him. I’m working . The last thing I need is for you to drive all the men off.”

    His black brow shot up. “Working? Working on what?”

    She curled her fingers into two tight fists. “It isn’t any of your business what I’m doing.
    Suffice to say, I can’t have you scaring men off.”

    “Suffice to say, you’re engaged to me and you’re carrying my child. The entire bayou will know by morning. No other man is coming near you, not without me ripping his head off and everyone will think it’s my right.”

    “ You told them all that.”

    “I did announce the news,” he agreed smugly.

    “Will you stop! This isn’t funny. You know damn well I’m not pregnant and we’re not engaged. So stop acting like a Neanderthal.”

    “Oh, I beg to differ with you, cher . My grandmother believes you are carrying my child.” His palm slipped over her stomach, the lightest of touches, but it sent her pulse racing. “She insists I do the right thing and marry you and I told her, of course I would.
    We’re officially engaged.”

    A sound of pure exasperation escaped. “Look. Be reasonable. I know you may have a teeny reason to be upset over the knife at your throat, although you did steal my bike, but I can explain to your grandmother…”

    He shook his head. “She has a heart condition. I don’t want her upset in any way. You should have thought about consequences before you told such a whopping lie. My grandmother values family and tradition. It would kill her if I didn’t live up to my responsibilities, especially involving a child. And you can take responsibility for your lie.
    You told an elderly woman with a heart condition something bad about her beloved grandson. She wants it fixed.”

    Flame let her breath out in a long hiss. “Listen, you lunkhead. You brought this on yourself, not me. All I wanted was my bike. You shouldn’t have taken it.”

    He glanced at the airboat, relatively rare for the patrons of the Huracan. “That your rig?”

    “Yes. And I didn’t steal it,