Page 2 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

Stretching to make a shot, her jeans framed, from his vantage, an ass to die for. Even at this distance and not knowing anything about her, John could feel his cock coming to life as he imagined getting to know her on a far more intimate level than he had any right to assume.

John had long ago accepted he was a dominant male and expected when it came time to settle down, he would find a woman who would consent to his authority and answer to him. He wasn’t looking for a true submissive. Any woman married to a US Marshall had to be strong enough to deal with life on her own sometimes and understand all plans were subject to the needs of the service and the inherent danger of the work he did.

“Think she needs rescuing?” Mac asked casually.

“Might,” said John.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. She’s more your type than mine.”

Knowing Mac liked his women taller, leaner, and preferably blonde, the voluptuous auburn beauty was most definitely not his type.

“She’s safe enough. Besides, I’m too tired.”

Mac laughed. “When have you ever been too tired to go charging in to save the damsel in distress?”

Izzy brought them their steaks.

“So, Iz,” said Mac, “what do you know about the redhead who has John’s attention?”

“That’s Mandy Adams.” She smiled. “She works for Willa Reynolds. You know, the gal who does the gourmet packing trips. I’m surprised Willa isn’t with her. The two of them usually take great enjoyment out of pool sharking any unsuspecting assholes, like Chaz there. I think he earned Mandy’s ire, treating the wait staff so poorly. Willa’s good with a stick, but Mandy’s better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her miss a shot unless she intended to.”

“What’s she drinking?” asked John.

“Killian’s is her usual drink of choice.”

“If she likes her steak rare, I could be in love,” he said with a grin.

“Then you’re out of luck,” said Izzy. “She likes her steaks medium with no red.” Izzy left them to take Mandy the proffered drink.

“Not to sound like a completely inappropriate jerk,” John said, lowering his voice, “but for an ass like that, I could live with overcooked meat.”

John grinned at Mac as his buddy tried desperately not to spit his beer across the table. It wasn’t the kind of comment John normally made about a woman, but he was beginning to think that Mandy might be something special.

Mandy was leaning against her custom pool cue, watching Chaz—who thought the world owed him a living because he’d graduated law school—try to figure out his next move. Hiding her smile, she wondered if he hadyet to figure out, he’d been suckered. Mandy had been baiting him since happy hour started. Before working with Willa, Mandy had worked for a law firm, where she had grown to detest attorneys fresh out of school. They were arrogant beyond belief and generally didn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground,

She’d been playing him slowly, reeling him in, winning just enough not to be obvious but losing enough, so his confidence was high. There was now twenty-five hundred dollars sitting on the table. When Chaz stepped up to break, the result hadn’t been pretty. She planned to run the table and take his money.

“Mandy?” said Izzy, offering her a Killian’s.

“I’m trying to focus,” griped Chaz.

Mandy smiled at Izzy, taking the drink.

“From a regular at the table in the back corner,” Izzy said, nodding toward John and Mac.

“How very gallant of him. I think my buddy Chaz could stand to take a few lessons in manners from him.”

Mandy took the long-neck bottle and tipped it toward her benefactor, who returned the gesture. The clunk of the cue ball hitting its mark let Mandy know Chaz had just missed the shot he was trying to make.

Handing the bottle to Izzy, she said, “Hold this for me, will you? I won’t be but a minute.”

Chalking her cue, Mandy stepped up to the table and cleared it, her movements clean, efficient, and her aim deadly.

“Hey! You suckered me!” cried Chaz.

Mandy retrieved her bottle and quipped, “Yep.”

“You can’t do that,” he snarled.

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