Page 23 of Bound in Matrimony (Belonging to Him Trilogy #3)

I lift my shot of whiskey to my lips, but before I ever take the drink, a commotion at the front of the bar draws my eyes.

I lay the untouched shot down and glance over at the girl who’s just burst through the door like the hounds of hell are nipping at her heels.

My eyes trail down her lithe frame. She’s wearing butt-hugging shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination the way they grip her juicy little ass and a form-fitting tank top that shows off a pair of perfectly pert little breasts.

Hair as dark and thick as a raven’s wing cascades around her shoulders.

Her chest is heaving, and I notice that her feet are bare.

I frown. She looks like a scared little rabbit.

From the hoots and whistles that come from a table of drunken fools near the front of the bar, I realize I’m not the only one who’s noticed her haphazard entrance.

She ignores the catcalls and attempts to walk over to an empty table to sit down, but one of the pricks gets up and follows her.

“Hey, babe, you looking for some company?” he slurs. I can hear him all the way over here.

She shakes her head, clearly not interested.

He sits down in the booth next to her and slides close to her. She shrinks away from him, pressing herself against the wall, and I’ve seen about all I can take. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s drunken assholes forcing their attentions on unwilling women.

I down my shot in one gulp, slap the shot glass back down on the counter, and walk over to where she’s sitting.

“I think she’s made it clear she’s not interested, buddy,” I tell the drunken idiot who insists on imposing himself on her.

“Hey, why don’t you mind your own—“ he begins, but then he stops mid-sentence and gulps when he looks up and sees who’s talking to him.

Yeah, I guess my reputation precedes me.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You want to finish that sentence?”

He quickly slides out of the booth, apologizing, “No, Damon, man, I didn’t realize it was you.”

I say nothing else to him, staring at him menacingly as he scampers away back to the table where his crew sits guffawing like the morons they are.

I look back down at the girl and am almost bowled over by the most innocent-looking, sapphire blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re framed by thick, dark lashes, and my chest tightens painfully.

Jesus, I knew she was beautiful from the glimpse I got of her across the bar when she burst into the place, but up close, she’s nothing short of a fucking angel.

Her skin is porcelain, the cheeks tinged pink from her exertion, and her lips are sinfully full and rosy, the kind of lips that give teenage boys wet dreams.

I feel myself beginning to stiffen in my jeans just looking at her face. Fuck, this girl is a princess, and I’d love nothing more than to spoil her for all she’s worth.

I realize I’m staring at her, so I gather my wits long enough to ask her, “Do you mind if I sit?”

She shakes her head, “No.” Then, she blushes, “I mean, no, I don’t mind if you sit, that is.” Fucking adorable. She’s fucking adorable. Everything about her.

I sit in the booth across from her, smelling her scent from across the table. She smells young and sweet, like fresh berries just waiting to be plucked. I fight back a groan.

Fuck, what’s wrong with me? No female has ever affected me this way.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

“Hadley,” she answers.

“Hadley,” I repeat, tasting her name on my tongue. “I’m Damon.”

She nods, “So I heard from that guy. Thanks for helping me just now, by the way,” she says, tucking a strand of that long, dark hair behind her ear. My fingers itch to reach out and see if those locks are as soft and silky as they look.

“No problem,” I tell her. “Some guys are just idiots when they drink.”

She looks down, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

I frown, not liking the sadness in her tone. “What are you doing in a place like this?” I ask her.

She looks up, “Oh, um, I was just…taking a break from my walk.”

I cock my head to look pointedly under the table at her bare feet. “You always take a walk barefoot in the middle of the night?” I ask her. There’s more to her story than she’s letting on, and I’m damn sure going to get to the bottom of it.

Her face colors even more. “I—I,” she sputters before her shoulders sag and she finally admits “I was running away from something.”

“Something or someone?” I ask, already reading between the lines, and what I’m sensing has my hands fisting on the table. If someone hurt her, I’ll hunt them down and tear them limb from limb with my bare hands.

“My stepdad,” she confesses, finally looking back up at me. “He’s been drinking more lately, and he…he came into my room tonight.”

Hot anger boils through me, but I attempt to tamp it down as I ask her, “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head vehemently. “No, I kneed him in the balls and took off before he could really do anything.”

“Good girl,” I immediately tell her.

She pales as her eyes meet something over my shoulder.

I turn to look at the door where some drunk has just stumbled in.

He’s a big, pot-bellied motherfucker, but I’m still taller and bigger than him—the difference being I’m all muscle.

I did nothing but work out in prison, trying to make myself stronger and pass the time the only way that kept me sane.

“Is that him?” I ask as I turn back to her, only to see an empty booth staring back at me.

“Fuck,” I swear under my breath as I see her heading for the back of the bar. I don’t know where she thinks she’s going, but she won’t be getting out that way.

I chase after her and catch up with her just as she’s fixing to enter the ladies’ room.

“Hey, baby, hold up,” I tell her, gently grasping her arm.

She turns to me, gasping, her eyes wide. She relaxes when she sees it’s me, and that fills me with an undeniable sense of pride that she must feel somewhat safe with me.

“I have to get out of here,” she says desperately.

While I want nothing more than to march back out there and beat her stepdad’s ass, setting her mind at ease and not losing her is more important, so I nod before wrapping my arm around her waist and steering her toward the kitchen. “Come on. I know a way out the back.”

I’m friends with the owner, so I come and go as I please, using whatever entrance I please, and no one bats an eyelash. I steer her through the kitchen and out the back door into the alley.

I lead her around the front to where my black SUV is parked and open the passenger door for her. “Get in,” I nod at the SUV.

She hesitates for only a moment before she glances back at the bar where her stepdad is probably still inside looking for her before she obeys and slides into the seat.

I shut the door behind her before walking over to the driver’s side.

I don’t know what act of fate brought us together tonight, but I vow to myself now that fucker will never get near her again. No one will ever hurt this princess again if I have anything to say about it.