“You too, Shannon.” Marcus clasped her hand, flashing that signature lopsided grin, the one that had women falling over themselves.
Jamie slid his arm tighter around her waist, tugging her back flush against his side. A warning, subtle but firm.
Shannon shot him a look but didn’t say aword. Her pulse fluttered under his hand, that beautiful heartbeat beating through her and into his chest.
Marcus wasn’t competition. Never had been. Despite that, no one else got to win that bright girlie smile from her.
“What do you do for a living?” Marcus asked, intrigued.
“I, uh, I’m a barista.”
“And she rides horses, competitively,” Jamie added, an unexpected sense of pride in his voice.
“A horsey girl?” Marcus grinned, throwing Jamie a knowing look. “Wow, a match made in heaven.”
Before Jamie could respond, Shannon lunged forward, away from him, almost colliding with Marcus in her haste.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she panted, flustered, patting her shoulder frantically. “My back is soaked.”
Jamie spun around, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the crowd, searching for the fucker who’d drenched her.His woman?The thought slammed into him.
“This is fucking crazy,” he muttered, his own elbow soaked as well.
Cold liquid seeped into her denim shirt from her shoulder to her back, drenching it. While Jamie swept her wet hair over her shoulder, Marcus moved in closer.
“I’ll get a fresh shirt delivered to the suite for you,” he said like her fucking hero.
Jamie stood silent, his fists clenched. He had no idea how she’d ended up soaked or who had done it.
Maybe it was for the best, because the rage bubblingunder his skin was growing, and his usual calm composure was starting to crack, morphing into something darker.
Marcus gave Shannon a playful wink. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind if you took that shirt off to save it.”
His stomach twisted as he watched Shannon lean into his brother’s chest, giggling at his stupid-ass joke. Since when was Marcus a fucking comedian?
“I’ll dry off under the hand dryer,” she said, smiling up at Marcus.
A surge of jealousy shot through Jamie, pushing him forward. He gripped her elbow, yanking her sideways.
“There’s a hair dryer in the bathroom,” he gritted, his voice low. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“It was an accident, Jamie. This isn’t my first time being doused in champagne.”
“This way.” Jamie slid his hand down her arm, linking their fingers, picking up the pace as he escorted her toward the primary bedroom.
He ignored the guests trying to catch his attention and focused on getting her away from Marcus.
Returning to the bathroom was like déjà vu. This time, though, his aim wasn’t getting a woman wet and begging, it was making sure she was dry and comfortable. “I’ll dry it for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I can do it myself.”
Jamie forced himself to take slow, controlled breaths, holding back the urge to tear the damn shirt off.
“I’ll wait here,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “There should be a hair dryer in thedrawer under the sink. Unless you’d prefer a new shirt? I’ll take you shopping if you’d prefer.”
Shannon pushed into the bathroom, glancing back over her shoulder. Her expression was a mix of innocent and sultry, her cheeks flushed pink, and her tousled hair a stark contrast to the soft warmth in her face.
Her eyes darkened, the deep navy of her irises catching the light as she spoke, “It’s fine, Jamie. Honestly. Thanks anyway.”
