Protecting Salvation: A Shadow Elite Novel

Peyton felt the hair on her arms lift at the sound of that deep, warm baritone she recognised. Her body instantly relaxed as she leaned toward Warren Tanner, aka Hurricane.

“Fuck off, this one’s mine. Go find your own.”

Peyton almost felt sorry for the asshole who, after turning around and actually taking in every inch of six-foot-three Hurricane, had released her.

“What did you just say?” Hurricane bent down slightly, cocking his head, his big body not showing any outward sign of violence but she felt it and so did the asshole. There was something predatory about that stillness, like a lion before it pounced.

“Whatever. Bet she’s a shit lay anyway. Slut.”

He shoved past her and Warren moved, anger in every movement but she touched his thick biceps that were stretching the sleeves of the grey shirt he wore. “Leave it. He isn’t worth it.”

Warren looked down at her and back up at the man who’d insulted her as if he wanted to go after him and teach him some manners. She loved that, but he was here and she was three cocktails in, and maybe she could get him to dance.

“Dance with me?” She looked around for Lotus and saw her chatting with Titan and Bram and tried not to snicker. She’d bet good money that if she looked through the crowd at the table they had in the corner, it would now be full of her friend’s husbands.

“I don’t dance, sugar.”

“Please?” She gave him her best doe eyes and he rewarded her with a lip twitch which made her heart skip. Seeing that beautiful big man grin at her like he couldn’t say no to her was a heady feeling.

“Fine but if I step on your toes, it’s your own fault.”

Peyton placed her hands on his shoulders as the music slowed to a more sensual rhythm, thanking God for her heels so she could even reach and he rested his hands lightly, almost hesitantly, on her hips. God, he felt good. Strong, and safe, like no matter what happened she’d be safe with him. He smelled incredible too, citrus and fresh and she had to fight the desire to bend her head into his neck and take a long sniff.

They moved slowly and she could tell he was awkward at first, but as she began to sway he followed her lead and she smiled. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”

“I said I don’t dance, not that I can’t. My mum and dad are from the West Indies. It’s in my blood.”

Peyton laughed, tucking that nugget of information away. She’d learned Warren was very private. He gave almost nothing away, but still managed to make a person feel comfortable enough to talk. It was a skill she had too, which was essential in her line of work, and probably his too.

“You good, sugar?”

The words rumbled through him and never in her life had she wanted to curl up in a sound more. From the very beginning, she’d been attracted to him, and not just because of how he looked. He was gorgeous, from his smooth, black skin and his gentle brown eyes to the muscles that seemed to stack on themselves there were so many of them. But it was his quiet, watchful tenderness that drew her in more than anything else. He’d been the one to notice how nervous she was in groups of men after her attack. He’d been the one to make sure she’d had her meat-free bacon because she refused to tell anyone she didn’t eat meat and be a nuisance.

One song slipped into the next and he didn’t leave, just danced with her, and kept his eyes on her, his hands on her hips, not wandering and trying it on. He was a rare breed of man, a gentleman in every sense of the word.

Sweat dripped down her back and eventually, she knew her feet needed a break. “Shall we get a drink and go see what the others are up to?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say you naked and in my bed. She wished she was that forward but it wasn’t her, so she just nodded.

Back at the table, it was as she’d expected with Aoife on Bram’s lap, Duchess and Gideon whispering to each other. Snow and Charlie had disappeared, and Bás had his arm around Val.

“So much for girl’s night!”

Aoife looked her up and down and behind her and raised her brows and waggled them. “Looks like you found your own hunk of burning love.”

Peyton shook her head and laughed. “You’re drunk.” She sat and grabbed her friend’s drink, knocking back the rest in one swig, and wincing as the Southern Comfort hit her tongue. “Yuck.” She pulled a face which she knew was unattractive and shivered.

“Serves you right for stealing.” Aoife poked her tongue out and Peyton laughed.

A hand on her shoulder had her fighting a shiver for a whole different reason.

“Want me to get you another?”

Glancing up she looked at Warren, who was leaning a shoulder against the post behind her. God, he was handsome. “Nah, I think I might grab a kebab and head home.” She tipped her head at her friends. “This lot seem busy anyway.” She didn’t mind. She understood being in love and how all-consuming it could be, at least in theory.

Warren’s eyes twinkled and he offered his hand. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Peyton stood. “You don’t have to.”

He held her jacket out for her and she slipped her arm through it as he cupped her shoulders and bent his head closer, his breath feathering her ear. “I want to, sugar.”

“Okay.”

He nodded as if satisfied and she turned, giving Aoife a little finger wave and ignoring her interested look. Whatever Aoife was thinking, this wasn’t that. Warren was just being kind.

The night was cool, and she shivered.

“Cold, Pey?”

“A little but I’ll be fine when I get some food in me.”

Warren wrapped a big hand around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his body. “Better?”

“Much.”

They walked down the main street where there were more food options this late at night.

“So what are we thinking? Kebab? Cheesy chips? Subway?”

“I wanted a veggie kebab, but now I want cheesy chips.”

Warren nodded. “Good call.”

He led her toward Mr Chippy and they waited in line. He didn’t let go of her even then and she liked that. He felt good, it felt natural, and for just a second she could close her eyes and imagine what belonging felt like. He ordered two portions of cheesy chips and gave her a no-nonsense look when she tried to pay.

They walked out of the chippy, plastic forks in hand and turned towards the direction of her home. It was a bit of a walk in these shoes, and she debated getting a taxi but wanted to spend more time with him. They ate and walked in companionable silence for a little bit, and it allowed her to watch him and admire the way he was always so alert, so aware.

“You’re staring.”

Peyton blushed as he glanced at her sideways and smirked. “Sorry, I was just thinking how you’re always so aware.”

He took the empty cardboard tray out of her hands and she should have been embarrassed that she’d eaten so much but she’d skipped dinner tonight to get ready and she was glad she had after Warren arrived.

“Part of my job. It’s ingrained in me now.”

“Makes sense.”

He held out his hand and she took it, her heart skipping at the innocent touch that felt more intimate than sex had with other men. Something about Warren made it so every interaction held more weight. Perhaps because he didn’t give parts of himself away easily so when he did give a smile or a word, it meant more.

They walked and talked, mainly about the team and Val and Bás getting together. She didn’t mention Rykov or Watchdog because she didn’t want to pry and have him think she was shrinking him.

Her ankle wobbled as she stepped on an unlevel part of the pavement and Warren stopped and glanced down. “Shit, what an ass. I can’t expect you to walk in those. Do you want me to call a cab?”

Peyton didn’t want the night to end, yet so she shook her head, even though her ankle throbbed. “It will be fine.” She took a step to show him and winced.

“That doesn’t look fine, sugar.”

He stepped up and in a move worthy of any romance hero, swooped her off her feet and into his big arms, bride style.

Peyton shrieked and grabbed for his broad shoulders. “What are you doing?”

Warren gave her a wink, and if he wasn’t holding her she would have swooned like some old-time virgin for the 1800s.

“Carrying you.”

“You can’t carry me all the way home. I’m too heavy.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed and kept on walking. “Sugar, you aren’t more than one-twenty soaking wet. I could do this all day and not break a sweat.”

Wow, that felt nice. She was actually one hundred and twenty-five. She liked a burger as much as the next woman and told him exactly that.

“And that’s what I like about you, Peyton. You’re real and you don’t find that a lot these days.”

“So, is this a service you offer everyone? Is this a new, eco-friendly taxi type thing?”

Warren chuckled. “No, sugar, just you. This is an exclusive service.”

“Are you flirting with me, Warren Tanner?”

He glanced down at her his lips pulled up at one corner and winked. “I don’t know, Peyton. Am I flirting with you?”

She didn’t want to answer that and get it wrong, even though every instinct was saying he was, so she rolled her lips between her teeth and enjoyed the ride.

Fifteen minutes later he set her down gently in front of her door, his arm around her waist to stabilise her until she got her legs under her.

“You want to come in?”

Warren seemed to debate it before shaking his head. “I should get going.”

Disappointment swooped low in her belly, but she got it. He was way out of her league, and although she thought he’d been flirting, that didn’t mean he wanted to get her into bed. “Okay, I understand.” Her head dropped and she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Sugar?”

“Yes.” She kept her eyes on her door, her back to him.

“Look at me, sugar.”

Peyton forced a smile and turned to look at his too-handsome face.

His hand reached out and he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. “I like you, Peyton, far too much to rush anything and, honestly, I don’t know what I can offer you right now, apart from friendship. I’m…” He paused and she waited for him to get his words out because it seemed important to him. “I’m going through some stuff that makes my life complicated and I don’t want to drag you into that.”

Peyton smiled, slow and deliberate. “You like me, huh?”

Warren chuckled and rubbed his chin before leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Good night, Peyton.”

Her skin tingled where his soft lips had touched and she barely withheld the desire to rub the spot. “Night, Warren, and thank you for the dance and chips and the lift home.”

His eyes were lit with warmth as he nodded once. “You’re welcome.”

She watched him walk down the path and stop.

“Go inside and lock the door.”

“Yes, Dad.”

His nostrils flared and he growled. “Peyton, pack that in and go inside.”

She wanted to argue and ask him what he’d do if she didn’t, but he’d drawn a line in the sand and she was in the friend zone. “Night.”

“Night, gorgeous, sleep well.”

She could have sworn she heard him say dream of me, but the door muffled his words. Leaning back against it she grinned as Bertie came running over to greet her. Tonight had been magical and unexpected. That night she didn’t dream of men breaking in or hits and blows that kept coming, she dreamed of strong arms surrounding her and keeping her safe.