Page 81 of Legacy of Danger
Chapter 22
Fuck it all. Mariah. Here.
The black slacks that hugged her curves and a gray shirt that skimmed her chest down to a trim waist were business casual clothes designed to drive him insane.
Despite his appreciation for her attire, all he wanted to do was peel every last garment off. Damn it. He was in trouble.
Hell, his hands ached with his need to see if they would truly fit around that waist. Her rich brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, showing off the soft skin of her neck that begged to be kissed, licked, and tasted.
Not going to happen. Ever. She'd made her decision clear.
Even worse, when Linc was in there with Mariah, Vaughn's power had gone all Geiger counter, crackling and buzzing through his brain like a cloud of deranged hornets.
Now, outside of the changing room, he leaned on the cement wall and did whatever mental tricks he could muster to pull himself together for this fight and prepare to deal with that stupid Neanderthal. The last thing Vaughn needed was a distraction.
Mariah West was a massive distraction. More specifically, how his power responded to her was a massive distraction.
Shit.
Even now, his power wanted to ping back to her location, find her, wrap that invisible bubble of protection around her. Even worse, with his stress level so high, he could use a stiff drink or four. He licked his lips, shook his head. No.
What about Mariah? What the hell was she doing here? When he had a chance to talk with her later, he'd tell her to... to what? He had no right to dictate her activities. His opinion meant nothing. He wasn't anything to her. And she was... what? Someone he'd like to get to know more, sure, but for all the reasons they had parsed, getting to know her wasn't going to happen. Therefore, he was nothing to her and vice versa.
Or at least, nothing he'd admit to. And that was the crux of the entire problem. Christ, could this evening get any worse?
"Hey, asshole."
His gut clenched. A whiff of burnt matches irritated his nose.
Wyatt Brand.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Brand?"
Wyatt's eye twitched. "Hanging with my cousin. I'm his corner man."
"Since when did you become a corner guy?"
"It's a free country. People can do what they like. Besides, I'm a fan." He adjusted his black jeans. "A fan of that tasty doctor. She digs me, you know. It's nice being here with her."
It took every ounce of willpower not to drive Brand's face through the back of his skull. "You came here to make a pass at Mariah? After threatening her at the ranch?"
"She got to see me as I defended my property. Probably turned her on."
"You're one messed up dude." Vaughn leaned forward. "Friendly warning: stay the hell away from her."
"You can't touch me or you get the big DQ tonight." He swiped a knuckle past his nose. "Hey, good luck out there tonight. You're gonna need it."
"What are you talking about?"
An insincere grin contorted his features. "Let's just say Linc has a secret weapon in his corner."
"What?" Maybe Linc was juiced. Wouldn't put it past the dirty fighter.
"Can't tell you." A strange, red glow flashed across the guy's eyes. Had Vaughn imagined it? Possibly. His nerves were stretched like a thin wire. But something about those red eyes reminded Vaughn of the creature on the ranch. Shit.
Wyatt snickered. "That's for you to find out. If you're lucky, they'll call the fight before he kills you."
"Whatever. I don't have time for empty threats." Or head games right before a bout.
