Guild Hunter 02 - Angels' Flight

by the heavily muscled bouncer . . . who gave Deacon a thorough going-over. Sara bit the insides of her cheeks when the big, tough Slayer shifted a little behind her.
     
    The instant they entered the main floor, conversationstopped, then restarted in a huge rush. She was welcomed with smiles—there were several other women in the crowd—but the attention was most definitely on Deacon. So when he put his hand on her hip and pulled her up against him, she didn’t protest. “Poor baby,” she murmured. “They really like you.”
     
    “It’s not funny.” She’d never
heard
a blush before.
     
    A beautiful male with the slinky body of a catwalk model strolled over. “What a shame,” he murmured, noting their body language. “I hope you’re taking good care of him.”
     
    Sara patted Deacon’s hand where it curved over her hip. “The best.r, c
     
    “Will you let him dance with us?”
     
    Sara could feel Deacon’s horror in the absolute frozen lines of his body. It was tempting to tease, but . . . “He’s not much of a dancer.”
     
    Giving another mournful sigh, the blond walked away. Unable to keep it in any longer, Sara turned and buried her face in Deacon’s chest as her body shook with laughter. His arms came around her, his lips at her ear. “We’re going to a
girl
bar on our next date.”
     
    That simply made her laugh harder. Tears leaked out of her eyes. By the time she got it out of her system, the scent of Deacon was well and truly in her lungs. The man smelled delicious. A little bit of heat, a little bit of sweat, a whole lot of dangerous. Perfect.
     
    Hands flat on that gorgeous chest of his, she looked up. “I guess they know a manly man when they see one.”
     
    His lashes, long and beautiful, shaded his eyes, but she saw the glint in them. “What about you?”
     
    Her answer was interrupted by a discreet cough. She turned to find a man who could only be another hunter. His stance was easy in the way of someone who knew how to move in a fight, his eyes watchful . . . and, at the moment, amused. “Welcome. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
     
    “Sara.” She stuck out her hand. “This is Deacon.”
     
    “Sara Haziz?” The hunter’s smile turned dazzling. “I’m so delighted to meet you. I’ve heard of you, of course. Please, come in.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Pierre, prep a table.”Returning his attention to them, he gave a short nod. “I’m Marco. With the Guild but not for long.”
     
    “Oh?”
     
    He smiled again, displaying a row of gleaming white teeth. “I decided this bar is my true love after all.”
     
    Not many hunters retired. But it wasn’t completely unheard of. “You won’t miss the thrill of the hunt?”
     
    “It’s a young man’s game. I’m in my late thirties now, but don’t tell.”
     
    Deacon finally broke his silence. “Your bar’s doing well—we heard about it on the hunter grapevine.”
     
    “Some of my best customers are hunters,” Marco said, genuine pleasure in his voice. “They bring their girlfriends, mates, don’t blink an eye. I’m very glad to have been a part of that fraternity. Please, come. The drinks are on me.” With that, he turned and led them to a table on the edge of the dance floor.
     
    They all took a seat and drinks were ordered. Sara noticed that Deacon barely touched his—whiskey, of course—and neither did Marco. She took a sip of her cocktail and made a true sound of pleasure. “This is sinfully good.”
     
    “Yes, the bar’s becoming quite well-known for its cock-tails.”
     
    She smiled and they chitchatted for several minutes. “Does this place have a ladies’ room?”
    Marco grinned. “Of course. I can show you.”
     
    “No, just point me in the right direction.” She leaned in close and whispered, “I need you to stay here and protect Deacon.”
     
    Marco’s eyes twinkled. “The big ones want to pit themselves against him, and the pretty ones want to take him home and give him a whip.”
     
    Deacon’s face remained expressionless, but his green eyes held a distinct warning. Laughing, she got into the act and stroked his cheek as she left. His stubble made her fingertips want to go exploring, but she strolled to the bathroom instead, getting several approving looks from the crowd.
     
    It wasn’t her fault she got distracted by a conversation withanother hunter and ended up at a door that didn’t lead to the toilets. Unfortunately, it was