Page 47 of Fake Christmas Date Cowboy

He had to give the guy credit for being stupider than he imagined. Either that or he had a death wish.

Leveling him in a glare, he said, “Do we understand each other,bud?”

Ethan looked him in the eyes with far too much cocky boldness. “Don’t call me bud.”

“Apologize to the lady.” He reached behind him and clasped Belle’s arm.

She circled him with an indignant tilt of her jaw at Ethan. “Don’t ever speak to me again. If you do, I’ll slap a restraining order on you.”

Ethan released a chuckle that grew into what sounded like a snarl.

Declan pushed Belle behind him again and brought his chest up against the guy’s. “Get the hell out of here. Now. Your festivities have come to an end.”

The sharp pain of nails biting into his hand made Declan smile. His little kitten had her claws out. But he had no doubt that a few soft words would tame her.

Ethan leaned to the side in order to see her. “You’re not even worth it.”

She stepped around Declan again, but he anchored her to his side, his arm banded around her waist. Her body vibrated with anger. Every inch of her curvy body tensed.

Ethan turned and wandered away, as nonchalant as if they’d just discussed their golf handicaps. Declan gave his WEST Protection teammate a sideways look, and the man moved forward at a fast clip to escort Ethan out of the Christmas gala.

Declan watched him go for a moment to make sure he didn’t require backup. Finally, he turned to Belle.

When he saw the fury sparking in her brown eyes, he paused. She was still angry with him. Deserved? Probably. Unfounded? Yes, it was, and she’d see it too once he explained things.

“‘You have something to say to Belle, you can say it to me instead?’” she mocked him in a deeper voice than her own. “I can’t believe you really said that, Declan. You don’t own me. I don’t need a man to stand up for me!”

Several heads turned at the sound of her raised voice. Just then, she started to spin on her heels to make a break for it. But he couldn’t let her go.

He snagged her around the waist and brought her flush against his chest just as another tune started up.

Her grunt of protest didn’t deter him one bit. He dragged her a few feet onto the dance floor and started to sway with her in his arms.

Her eyes shot bullets. “I don’t want to dance with you!”

“Yes, you do.”

She gaped at him. “How did I not see this coming? I always pick the worst men. Here I thought you were sweet and fun and great in bed—”

“You can’t deny that I am great in bed, Belle.”

She opened her mouth to scream, and he cut her off by slamming his mouth over hers. The kiss was hard and hot and carnal. He might as well be fucking her on the dance floor for all the burning passion and desire blazing between them like two fireworks intersecting in the night sky to create one dazzling explosion.

His cock swelled behind his fly, and he tugged her against it.

For a heartbeat, she rocked her hips into him. Then just as quickly, she shoved her palms off his chest and tore away.

He caught up to her at the exit. The very one that they’d escaped from on that first night when he took her in the garden.

Cameras on his birthmark or not, he wanted to get her alone.

She launched through the door. Tonight the snow wasn’t coming down in small, puffy flakes that would catch on her lashes and lure him closer. It was icy sleet flying straight at their faces on a stiff mountain breeze.

She whipped around and almost lost her balance on her high heels.

He caught her. “Belle, stop. Let’s go back inside and talk.”

“So you can force me to dance with you?” she burst out.

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