Hard Justice. Lori Foster

to the dance floor to tell her it was time to go.

      She tried to tempt him into dancing.

      It wasn’t easy, but he held firm. “We need to get going.”

      She fashioned a very sexy pout. “Why?”

      “It’s late, the storm let up and you’re drunk.”

      She gave it some thought, then nodded. “I think you might be right.”

      “So you know you’re plastered?”

      “No, I meant that the rain has stopped.” She grinned at him. “I think I’ve learned to like beer.”

      She still held her nose every time she drank, so no, she definitely didn’t like it. “If you say so.”

      “Thank you for your patience.”

      “It’s what I’m paid for.” He handed her purse to her, waited while she got the strap up and over her shoulder, which took her three tries, then led her out into the dark night.

      Not a single star showed. So much humidity hung in the air that halos formed around each streetlamp. There were a lot less people outside now, and they were more subdued than the earlier crowd, talking low in small groups.

      The drone of rain dripping from every surface lent a light music to the night.

      Though they no longer shared an umbrella, Fallon stayed very close to him, so he felt it when she shivered.

      He was so warm, particularly because of her nearness, that he hadn’t even thought about her getting chilled. He glanced down at her and realized she’d gotten dewy with all her dancing in the heated bar. In comparison, the temps outside were cool.

      He paused to slip off his flannel shirt then carefully draped it around her shoulders. “Better?”

      Surprise had her blinking before she gave him a beautiful smile. “Yes, thank you.” Then with concern, she asked, “You’re not cold?”

      Not even close. Hell, seeing the pleasure on her face sent his temp up a few more notches. “I’m fine.”

      She looked up at him, maybe gauging his sincerity, then put her palm against his left biceps. “You’re actually warm,” she whispered with awe.

      Yeah, much more of that and he’d combust.

      To get her moving and distract his misplaced lust, Justice put his arm around her and steered her forward.

      They’d almost reached the car when three bodies slipped out of the shadows. Big, muscular—definitely not slouches. Well, hell.

      “Got a cigarette?” the one in front asked.

      “Don’t smoke.” Justice took a step in front of Fallon, planning to protect her as they proceeded, but the other two blocked him. With his patience strained, he loosened his stance. “You don’t want to do this.”

      Ignoring that warning, the lead man said, “I’ll take her purse.”

      “No,” Justice replied evenly, “you won’t. And if you try, you’re gonna get hurt...bad.”

      The man to his right drew a knife. Justice heard Fallon’s gasp, and it infuriated him. She stayed behind him, not even peeking around. Odds were stuff like this never happened in her world—because she didn’t go to bars, didn’t drink...didn’t dance, visit friends or apparently have fun.

      Pissed that her night out might end in violence, he growled, “Put that away before I stick it in your fucking ear.”

      Cowering behind him, Fallon’s trembling increased.

      The most brazen one laughed. “You’re scaring her, dude. Just hand it over and we can all get on our way.”

      Fuck it. “You’re right.” He pivoted to the side, as if to face Fallon, but as she started to give him her purse, he kicked out fast, catching the bastard in the face with his heel. The crunch of cartilage satisfied Justice. Even in his sneakers, his kick had likely done more than break the guy’s nose, given the way he dropped.

      The knife wielder slashed out. With far faster reflexes, Justice ducked back and at the same time grabbed his wrist. With little effort, he broke it, then took the knife from his limp hand.

      Remembering Justice’s threat, the second attacker turned and, with his damaged arm held close, ran away as fast as he could.

      The third man, now more than a little incredulous, eyed his buddy on the ground, then his fleeing friend.

      “What do you think?” Justice said. “Make up your mind before I take the decision away from you.”

      Lifting his hands in submission, the man slowly stepped away until he disappeared back into the shadows.

      “Oh, my God,” Fallon whispered.

      What he’d like to do, Justice realized, was walk away from the mess. But he was on official business with Body Armor, so he had to call it in.

      Rule of the agency: don’t dick with the law unless given prior permission. For sure Sahara would want him to follow the rules tonight, with a client like Fallon.

      When he turned to her, he saw Fallon’s eyes were enormous and her lips parted.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      She closed her mouth and gulped. “You pulverized them.”

      She sounded so surprised, a smile tried to steal away Justice’s black mood. “Not even close, but it’s hard to do when the pricks run off.”

      “You terrified them.” She looked at where the first guy still sprawled on the ground, out for the count. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”

      “Because you haven’t watched professional MMA.” In comparison to the best fighters, he was fucking slow.

      “So impressive. Like...pow!” A little on the tipsy side, she tried to mimic his kick, and almost fell to her nicely rounded butt.

      “Easy,” Justice said, catching her under the arms and hauling her upright. Knowing he needed to get her in the car before anything else happened, he said, “Come on,” and led the way.

      As they passed the downed man, she gawked and asked, “Is he dead?”

      “Don’t be so bloodthirsty. He’s just knocked out.” At least, Justice hoped that was true. He got Fallon seated, tucked the flannel around her, then hit the automatic lock. “Don’t open this for anyone but me.”

      As he started to close the door, she said, “Wait! What are you doing?”

      “Calling the cops. I’ll be right here, but I have to let them know.”

      “Are you sure?” She fretted with the strap of her purse. “I mean, Dad will have a conniption. If you thought he was overprotective before, this will seal my fate.”

      “You’re twenty-four,” Justice pointed out. “You’re a grown woman and can do as you please.” Or was she worried about losing daddy’s money? She hadn’t seemed that mercenary, but truth be told, he still didn’t know shit about her, except that she looked hot as hell dancing and couldn’t hold her beer.

      “It’s not that easy.” She looked away. “But they...well, they’ve been through a lot and I’m all they have left.”

      The sincerity in her tone did him in. Justice glanced back at the guy he’d kicked. The fool was finally coming to. He staggered to his feet, likely with a broken jaw, but given how quickly he sneaked off, he’d live. The area was quiet; no one else was paying any attention.

      Shit, he hated making decisions like this. Sometimes the “right thing to do” wasn’t so clear-cut.

      “Please, Justice?”

      Now, how was he supposed to refuse her when she looked up at