have flattened a lesser man.
“It’s been too long, you son of a bitch!” the shifter growled with genuine affection, giving Ashe another spine-cracking whack before pulling back and crossing his massive arms over his chest, his biceps straining the sleeves of his T-shirt in the same way she’d seen Ashe’s do. She thought she’d caught a bit of an Irish accent in his craggy voice, but couldn’t be sure.
“I wish this was just a friendly visit,” Ashe said, “but I’ve got a problem I’m hoping you can help with.”
The shifter slid an interested look toward Juliana, a wicked smile spreading over his handsome face. “No problem, boyo. I’ll be happy to help out with the little filly any way I can.”
Little filly?
Juliana blinked, while Ashe gave a husky laugh. “She’s not the problem, you ass. And you’re sure as hell not getting your sleazy hands on her.”
“Damn,” the giant drawled, giving her a playful wink before shifting his curious gaze back to Ashe, waiting for him to explain.
Placing his hand on her lower back in a strangely possessive gesture, Ashe first made the introductions, his voice dry. “Knox, this is Juliana, and you can stop leering at her anytime now. Juliana, this is Knox, criminal mastermind and unparalleled thief.” At her wary expression, he added, “Don’t worry. If anything, he’s more of a modern-day Robin Hood, only without the tights. And the charm, for that matter.”
“How…interesting.”
Knox gave her a slow smile as he snatched her hand, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “Aren’t I just?” he drawled, before arching a dark brow at Ashe. “And I have more charm than you, you witless clod.”
“God, don’t start,” he said with a heartfelt groan, jerking Juliana’s hand out of Knox’s grip…and keeping it in his own. “I can’t take your shit tonight.”
Knox narrowed his dark blue eyes. “Yeah, now that you mention it, you do look like shit. There’s something grim around your eyes.”
Lowering his voice, Ashe said, “You’re going to have that same grim look when I tell you we’re searching for information on the Delacourts.”
Knox whistled softly, then suggested they take the conversation to one of the tables in the back of the room, away from the staff, who were now cleaning up after what appeared to have been a rough, bacchanalian kind of night, several pieces of broken bar stools still littering the floor, as well as some racy lingerie hanging from the overhead light fixtures. At a signal from Knox, the blonde behind the bar brought them each a tall, icy bottle of beer. Knox took a long drink of the dark brew, then looked at Ashe. “What’s your interest in the Delacourts?”
Ashe briefly explained the situation, relaying what Juliana had told him, and Knox listened with keen interest, his dark eyes sharp with intelligence. He didn’t come right out and call her a liar, but she had the uncomfortable feeling that he thought there was more to the story than what she had shared, the same as Ashe did.
As he wrapped up his explanation, Ashe’s deep voice took on a raw edge. “So we have reason to believe the Delacourts have taken out assassination orders against Juliana and her family in order to…keep the whole thing quiet.”
Knox gave another soft whistle as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “If anyone has the kind of money to fund an operation like that, especially when the targets are inside the Wasteland, it would be the Delacourts.”
Sprawling sideways in his chair, Ashe thumped his knuckles against the scarred surface of the table. “That’s what I was thinking. Raphe’s drug money has given the family a substantial bankroll for the past decade.”
A stunned sound slipped past her lips. “That long?”
“Easily,” Knox replied, locking his dark gaze with hers. “Ashe could tell you more about it than I could, but Raphe got started when he was little more than a pup. You can guarantee
“It’s been too long, you son of a bitch!” the shifter growled with genuine affection, giving Ashe another spine-cracking whack before pulling back and crossing his massive arms over his chest, his biceps straining the sleeves of his T-shirt in the same way she’d seen Ashe’s do. She thought she’d caught a bit of an Irish accent in his craggy voice, but couldn’t be sure.
“I wish this was just a friendly visit,” Ashe said, “but I’ve got a problem I’m hoping you can help with.”
The shifter slid an interested look toward Juliana, a wicked smile spreading over his handsome face. “No problem, boyo. I’ll be happy to help out with the little filly any way I can.”
Little filly?
Juliana blinked, while Ashe gave a husky laugh. “She’s not the problem, you ass. And you’re sure as hell not getting your sleazy hands on her.”
“Damn,” the giant drawled, giving her a playful wink before shifting his curious gaze back to Ashe, waiting for him to explain.
Placing his hand on her lower back in a strangely possessive gesture, Ashe first made the introductions, his voice dry. “Knox, this is Juliana, and you can stop leering at her anytime now. Juliana, this is Knox, criminal mastermind and unparalleled thief.” At her wary expression, he added, “Don’t worry. If anything, he’s more of a modern-day Robin Hood, only without the tights. And the charm, for that matter.”
“How…interesting.”
Knox gave her a slow smile as he snatched her hand, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “Aren’t I just?” he drawled, before arching a dark brow at Ashe. “And I have more charm than you, you witless clod.”
“God, don’t start,” he said with a heartfelt groan, jerking Juliana’s hand out of Knox’s grip…and keeping it in his own. “I can’t take your shit tonight.”
Knox narrowed his dark blue eyes. “Yeah, now that you mention it, you do look like shit. There’s something grim around your eyes.”
Lowering his voice, Ashe said, “You’re going to have that same grim look when I tell you we’re searching for information on the Delacourts.”
Knox whistled softly, then suggested they take the conversation to one of the tables in the back of the room, away from the staff, who were now cleaning up after what appeared to have been a rough, bacchanalian kind of night, several pieces of broken bar stools still littering the floor, as well as some racy lingerie hanging from the overhead light fixtures. At a signal from Knox, the blonde behind the bar brought them each a tall, icy bottle of beer. Knox took a long drink of the dark brew, then looked at Ashe. “What’s your interest in the Delacourts?”
Ashe briefly explained the situation, relaying what Juliana had told him, and Knox listened with keen interest, his dark eyes sharp with intelligence. He didn’t come right out and call her a liar, but she had the uncomfortable feeling that he thought there was more to the story than what she had shared, the same as Ashe did.
As he wrapped up his explanation, Ashe’s deep voice took on a raw edge. “So we have reason to believe the Delacourts have taken out assassination orders against Juliana and her family in order to…keep the whole thing quiet.”
Knox gave another soft whistle as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “If anyone has the kind of money to fund an operation like that, especially when the targets are inside the Wasteland, it would be the Delacourts.”
Sprawling sideways in his chair, Ashe thumped his knuckles against the scarred surface of the table. “That’s what I was thinking. Raphe’s drug money has given the family a substantial bankroll for the past decade.”
A stunned sound slipped past her lips. “That long?”
“Easily,” Knox replied, locking his dark gaze with hers. “Ashe could tell you more about it than I could, but Raphe got started when he was little more than a pup. You can guarantee
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