Page 18 of The Billionaire's Bride

"I’ll live." He smiles lazily, and my breath catches.

Shit, this, being surrounded by all these acres of hot manliness isn’t helping me at all. I turn away, "I think I am going to take a shower."

Baron returns just then with two massive pizzas.

"Everything okay with Archer?" he calls out after me.

"Of course." I glance at him over my shoulder. "He’s a good man." I lower my chin. "He mentioned the two of you served together in the army?"

"We did." Baron places the pizza boxes on the coffee table. "There are only two other men I’d trust to watch over you. He’s one of them."

"One of two, huh?" I say slowly. "So, there’s you, obviously. And Archer..."

He nods.

"And the third man?" I tilt my head, "Who's the third person you'd trust to protect me?"

When he doesn't reply, I narrow my gaze on him. "It's Edward, right? You'd trust Edward to protect me, wouldn't you?"

Baron pauses, then resumes opening the pizza boxes.

"Well?" I prod, "You would, right?"

"Sure," he finally says, "why not?"

"Ha!" I stab a finger in his direction. "Clearly, you don’t hate him as much as you say you do."

"You’re right."

"I am?"

"Yep." He straightens, training that bright blue gaze on me, "It goes beyond hate. Let’s just say, while I trust him with your life, I don’t trust his intentions toward you."

Edward bares his teeth. "Same to you, asshole, with knobs on."

I stare between the two of them. "I get it now."

"What?" Edward scowls.

"This is why the two of you are pretending to get along?"

Baron tips up his chin at me. "We get along just fine." He coughs with his palm over his mouth, "Not!"

"Ha," I stab a finger at him, "knew it. The two of you are sitting across from each other, pretending to have a civil conversation, only so you can keep an eye on each other. So you can make sure the other one doesn’t make a move on me."

Edward raises his hands, "Impressive piece of deduction there, Eve."

"It only took you what, fifteen minutes, to come to that conclusion?" Baron snickers.

I throw up my hands. "The two of you in this mood are impossible. Seriously, you guys need to chill out." I turn and head for my bedroom, when Baron calls out.

"The pizza will get cold."

"It will stay," I mumble.

"No, it won’t," he retorts.

I turn, and scowl, "I need a shower."