Page 7 of Draco's Defiance

“That is right.” Empowered by the knowledge that Monroe was only making a fool of himself, she continued. “I can put a restraining order together in a matter of minutes and make sure you can never come near me again, or you can walk out of here like a normal human being.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Your only choice is which it will be.”

Monroe’s face drained of color, his eyes darting around as he acknowledged how almost every person in the place was now watching to see which he’d choose.

“You’ll regret this.” His glare drilled into Moira before returning to the blond, Vaughn. “Both of you will.”

“Run along back to Daddy, Oliver.” Vaughn’s tone was dismissive as he gestured for him to leave with a flick of his hand. “The grown-ups have things we need to do.”

“You asshole.” Monroe’s expression darkened. “Just wait until—”

“Is there a problem, sir?” A guy dressed in a Berrunti’s apron stepped forward, cutting off whatever Monroe was about to say.

“What?” Monroe scowled. “No!”

“I think it might be better if you left.” The staff member motioned toward the exit. “Let’s not cause a scene, shall we, sir?”

“This isn’t over.” Monroe’s face was like thunder as the staff member ushered him in the direction of the door. “It’s not fucking over until I say it is!”

The last Moira saw of Monroe’s snarling face was his disgusted expression as the door to Berrunti’s swung closed in front of him.

Chapter Three

Draco

“WELL, THAT WAS DIFFERENT.” Draco chuckled, turning back to the menu. He’d arrived expecting to find one of his brothers, but their absence had revealed a far more appealing prospect. He hadn’t had this much fun at Berrunti’s since he’d last wound Balthazar up about the new love of his life, Cherie, but even that hadn’t been as entertaining as helping to put Oliver Monroe in his place—and all with an unknown and rather alluring brunette. “What sandwich did you say you wanted?”

“Thank you so much for that.” Her relief was obvious as she spun to face him. “I don’t know how you knew I needed help, but I appreciate it.”

“I just heard what you said.” Draco shrugged, glancing back at the woman. What was it Monroe had called her? Moira? She was even prettier than he’d first realized. Her dark hair was swept back into an up-do. The style accentuated her small, attractive features and large, almond eyes, while her curves seemed barely contained by her skirt-suit. Then there was the pair of killer stilettos she was wearing. Her footwear alone made him hot. “’He’s going to come in here and then what?’—that’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I think so.” She nodded.

“I guessed the rest.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. “And anyway, I know Monroe. He’s a cretin and a coward. Always has been. Now, about this sandwich...”

“Don’t be silly.” Flustered, she reached into her purse. “If anyone should be buying lunch, it’s me. You really helped me out.”

“I won’t hear of it.” He lifted his palm to halt her intention. It wasn’t like Draco to be such a gentleman. He was more of the love ’em and leave ’em type, but something about Moira had charmed him, and it wasn’t just her sexy little smile or the body he suspected she was hiding beneath her suit. He liked the way she’d ultimately dispatched Monroe. Women with a little fight in them had always been a turn on and far preferable to those who yielded without resistance. Berrunti’s was usually such a boring place, and yet Moira had come along and brightened it up in one fell swoop. “Lunch is on me.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyes widened, revealing a pale, sky-blue shade of blue he’d never seen in a gaze before.

“Absolutely.” He gestured to the server who was ready to assist them. “Tell the man what you want.”

He watched as she stepped forward with her order. A fascinating blush bloomed in her cheeks as she turned back to him.

“What about you?” she probed. “Are you eating?”

“I just came in for coffee,” he confessed. “But sure. Why not?”

Draco was used to picking up women in clubs and bars. It was a unique experience to meet one in a place like Berrunti’s. Recounting his order to the server, he scanned his credit card before he glanced back at her.

“Care to find a table?” Motioning to the large dining room, he wondered which area she’d choose. Would she opt for the secluded portion of the bistro, or choose one of the more open tables by the enormous windows? Something about her choice seemed pivotal.

“Sure.”

There was a knowing gleam in her gaze as she turned and walked away. Draco took the moment to enjoy the sway of her hips as she made her selection.

“Thank you, sir.” The server was still talking, but enthralled by the curve of her ass, Draco was barely listening. “I’ll bring your order to your table.”

“Thanks.” He whispered the response, already in pursuit of the tempting Moira.

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