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smile, distracted Gage from his desire. I tensed every time the guy aimed his flirtations in my direction, but so far Gage hadn’t unhinged.
    But he was about to.
    His rum-scented breath drifted across my bare shoulder, and he brought his lips to my ear. “If he looks at you like that one more time, neither of you are going to like the outcome.” He pushed his erection into my left butt cheek a little harder and tightened his arm around my waist. “Quit being so damn sexy.”
    Of course, in Gage Channing’s twisted mind, this would be my fault.
    Poker chips were dropped and picked up, clacking together in the triumph of a win, and excited chatter charged the air as everyone prepared for the next come-out roll. Mr. Big Flirt did something stupid; he touched me.
    “It was all you, baby! You’re my lucky charm!” His fingers circled my wrist, and he wrenched my arm up in the air, as if we were champions celebrating a win.
    Oh no. No, no, no . . .
    Gage clamped his fingers around the guy’s wrist and squeezed until my hand fell free. “Touch her again, and I’ll break off your fucking fingers.”
    The guy shrank back, his eyes going wide. I couldn’t blame him. If Gage hadn’t so effectively trapped me between him and the table, I would have done the same thing. I didn’t have to see his face to know his features were twisted in rage.
    “Dude, you need to chill out. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
    One of the table attendants interrupted their argument. “Is there a problem here, Mr. Channing?”
    “Yes. This asshole thinks it’s okay to harass and paw at my date.”
    And that was the last I saw of Mr. Big Flirt, though his indignation at being escorted away like a criminal lingered. Just like Tom’s had at work. Hating how everyone’s focus was drawn to me, I pushed away from the table. “Let me out.” I cranked my neck and glared at him. “ Right now, Gage. I’m not kidding.”
    He backed away, and I bolted. Tears threatened to spill over as I weaved through the multitude of gamblers. Heavy smoke drifted in the air, which only made my eyes burn more. Gage caught up to me at the elevators. We both entered, and I kept my attention fastened on the doors, unwilling to look or speak to him.
    And he didn’t speak to me.
    I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we got back to our room, but it couldn’t be good. Would he be able to see through his haze of red to hear me say no? Or was I in for another horrendous beating? Hysteria rushed up and lodged under my breastbone, and I could hardly breathe as the doors slid open at our floor. He dug his fingers into my arm and dragged me to our suite. My face was already wet with tears.
    “Please, Gage—”
    “Shut up.”
    He swiped his card, the light flickered green, and the beep signaled the beginning of what I knew was going to be a hellish night.
    “I’m saying no,” I said as soon as he shoved me through the door. “Wha . . .whatever”—I swallowed the vomit rising in my throat—“whatever you’re gonna do, stop.”
    The door slammed, and he pushed me against it. “I said shut up.” His hands shook, which only intensified the terror fisting my heart. “What I’m going to do,” he said, his gaze dropping to my mouth, “is kiss the fuck out of you.” He tangled his hands in my hair, leaned in, and sighed against my lips. “Do you have a problem with that?”
    No, but I should have.
    It was my only thought as he took control of my mouth. Hot tongues swirling together, the taste of rum on his lips, the way he moaned my name before sucking my lower lip between his teeth, and his fingers tightening in my hair, pulling against my scalp—every sensation zipped through me like a firefly. I should definitely have a problem with this.
    I couldn’t recall the space of time between the door and the bed, but the mattress welcomed the weight of my body, and Gage blanketed me, his mouth never leaving mine, never failing to suck the free will from my