Her smile brightened. “Exactly. You must know her. Lana?”
She stood there looking up at him as if he were a good man and would save her. He was debating whether or not he was that good. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t think so. When he took a step to the side, keeping a firm hold, the light hit her face and he saw the bruises. Fuck no, he wasn’t saving her. He was going to kill the worm that put those bruises on her face and fear in her eyes, and he was keeping her for himself. Someone should be protecting this woman, and that he could do.
“Yeah, babe, I know Lana. Let’s get you a drink and we’re going to talk about whoever put those bruises on your face.”
He didn’t mean to sound like a hard-ass, but there was frost in his voice. A promise of retaliation. Ice didn’t have a lot of social graces, but he forced himself not to pull her close when she hesitated again and looked at the door. Clearly, self-preservation had set in and she wanted to run, but she thought whoever was chasing her was worse than what she faced in the bar. That didn’t make sense to him. The suit couldn’t possibly be as scary as a bar full of bikers.
“I’ve probably already had too much to drink,” she hedged and tried to step back.
He had his brothers there, and because he was acting out of character, they had already backed his play. Maestro stood behind her, and she bumped into him and whirled around. Maestro had his back to her and was talking to Code. He glanced over his shoulder, murmured an apology, and turned back, but stayed firmly between her and the door.
“What’s your name?” Ice said, trying to sound friendlier. She looked like she was close to panic. “Lana isn’t here, but we’re her family. And my sister, Alena, is here and she’s as close to Lana as anyone could be. She’ll know what to tell you.” Deliberately he used Lana’s name and the fact that he had a sister in the bar to soothe her.
She bit her lip. “I’m Soleil.”
She pronounced her name with a slight French accent and it sounded like so-lay. He liked it. He’d always liked the French language, it sounded exotic and sexy to him. Now he knew why. Soleil. Sunshine. Yeah. He could see that.
He tried another gentle experimental tug. “Let’s get a drink and find Alena.”
She did the lip thing again and his cock jerked hard. If she didn’t stop he might embarrass himself. He changed tactics, taking charge. Circling her back so his arm was an iron bar, he guided her toward the bar. The crowd was tight, and he had to thread his way through, but again, his brothers helped him out, moving in a diamond pattern so they could part the crowd for him.
“Yo, Ice, you gonna share that sweet little piece of ass?” someone called out.
Soleil stiffened. Ice pulled her closer to him. “Fuck you, Sanders, I don’t share my woman. Anyone goes near her, they’ll be spending some time in the hospital.” He put menace in his voice, enough to quiet the room a second time.
Everyone turned away from them. Ice’s reputation was lethal, something he wasn’t eager for her to know.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “In here, you have to belong to someone or it can get ugly. You’ll be fine. No one would dare touch you now. My brothers and I will look after you. I give you my word. You’re totally safe with me.” He wasn’t lying.
She was already in the middle of the room. She glanced over her shoulder, looking toward the door, even as he propelled her toward the bar. There was a sea of men and women between her and escape.
He kept his arm firmly around her. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Lana is a very good friend of mine, and because she’s your friend as well, Torpedo Ink will look after you.”
Lana’s name was like magic. Ice was very aware Soleil had been crying and whoever had hit her face had struck her elsewhere as well. She walked carefully, as if protecting her body. “You need a doc? Steele’s on his honeymoon about now, but we can get you to the emergency room or have Alena take a look at you.”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t go to the emergency room.”
Definitely panic in her voice. He wanted to kill the bastard who’d struck her. Savage leaned against the bar right over two barstools. Savage was a man no one in their right mind ever called out. No one. Not even some drunk with an entire club behind them. He’d lay waste to most of them, and those he left alive, the rest of his brothers would send to hell.