A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(102)

Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, why did she have to walk into his?

Casablanca was a million miles away. She was no Ingrid Bergman, and the man in front of her was definitely not Humphrey Bogart. Rick never would have glared at Ilsa like that.

“Having trouble staying out of trouble, Anna?”

“Hello, Aidan. It’s nice to see you again. How are you?”



Despite the tense situation, Aidan had trouble keeping a straight face. “Only Anna Bradford could have two dozen salivating drunks surrounding her and act as if she’s attending a Sunday social.”

She lifted her chin. Such a lovely, stubborn slant. “Politeness never goes out of style.”

“You think we could save the social niceties until after we get you out of here?”

Without moving her head, her gaze swept nervously around the room, the only indication that she was aware of the trouble she was in. Clearing her throat, she said, “I was just leaving.”

“Very wise,” Aidan said dryly.

Though he kept his eyes on Anna, Aidan was hyper-aware of everything that was going on around them. The three men at the bar were discussing their plan of attack. A half dozen other men were looking for their own chance to strike. The rest of them were hanging back. No doubt waiting to see what their friends could accomplish without them.

So for now, it was nine against two. Not the worst odds he’d ever faced. If he could get out of here without bloodshed, all the better. Protecting Anna was his priority.

She swallowed loudly. “Any suggestions?”

“Yes. Get ready to be offended.”

Wide-eyed, she looked up at him. “What?”

He took advantage of her open mouth, swooped down, and slammed his mouth over hers. His tongue swept inside, and in an instant, Aidan knew the men surrounding them were the least of his troubles.

He’d dreamed about tasting her, and dammit, now he’d gone and done it. She was more delicious than anything he’d ever tasted in his life. He could stand here all day, drowning in her sweetness, savoring her flavor.

Oh hell no.

Before she could struggle or kick him in the groin, Aidan pulled away from her. Giving her no time to scream or slap his face, he scooped her up with one arm and threw her over his shoulder. With the other, he pulled his Glock from the holster on his thigh and glared around the room. And just in case they didn’t get it, he shouted, “Mine! Anybody got a problem with that?”

Not waiting around for an answer, Aidan turned and stalked out of the bar.