Free His to Claim by Opal Carew Page B

flinch.
    “Do you know where he took her?”
    He noticed Sue glance nervously at the other woman.
    “There’s a nice café on the corner two blocks east of here called Genaro’s. The staff
     often go there for meals. The other likely place is Freida’s Diner another block farther.”
    “Thanks.” He turned and headed to the door.
    Why had Travis taken Melanie to lunch? He fumed. As if he didn’t know. Fuck, he needed
     to tell Travis to lay off. That this woman was off-limits. But knowing Travis, that
     would only make him pursue her harder.
    Why the hell would Melanie agree to go with Travis after he’d told her Travis would
     steal her away in a minute? Of course, despite the incredible night of sex they’d
     shared, there was no promise of anything more. Certainly nothing that said they were
     exclusive.
    Once on the street, he started east, but his limo pulled up to the curb. The driver
     got out of the car to open the door.
    *   *   *
    Melanie shifted in her chair as Travis stared at her with those unnerving blue-green
     eyes of his, waiting for her answer as to whether she was serious about Storm or not.
    “You’re hesitating.” He reached forward and took her hand, then stroked her wrist.
     “That makes me think maybe I do have a shot with you.”
    He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, sending tremors through her.
    She knew she should pull her hand away, but she was mesmerized by his touch.
    “Hell, no!”
    Her head jerked around as she saw Rafe barreling into the restaurant, his nostrils
     flaring.

 
    Rock Hard
    Melanie sucked in a breath as Travis glanced around at Rafe marching toward the table.
     Travis winked at Melanie, then turned back to Rafe again.
    “Hey, man. What’s with the suit?”
    “Screw that. Keep your hands off Melanie.” Rafe now stood beside Travis, glowering
     down at him.
    Travis shrugged. “I don’t see Melanie complaining.”
    Rafe grabbed a handful of Travis’s shirt and dragged him to his feet, then glared
     him straight in the eye. “I said … Don’t. Touch. Melanie.” He spoke with clenched
     teeth, sparks flaring from his eyes.
    Melanie was aghast. She’d never seen Rafe behave this way.
    A waiter hovered in the background, looking uncertain, and the other diners sent nervous
     glances their way.
    She pushed herself to her feet. “I’m not going to sit here while the two of you act
     like children.” Then she strode from the restaurant without a backward glance. In
     her peripheral vision, she saw Rafe release Travis’s shirt, but as she walked along
     the sidewalk away from the patio, she heard angry male voices. Then she turned the
     corner and they were lost in the noise of the traffic and passersby.
    It thrilled her that Rafe was so possessive of her. But it also made her angry.
    Storming into the restaurant as if he owned her. Whatever they had between them was
     tentative at best. He had admitted that he didn’t want a relationship right now, so
     he had no right to scare men away from her.
    *   *   *
    The next morning, Rafe raked his fingers through his hair, the newspaper laid out
     in front of him on his desk. Just his luck that someone had taken pictures of his
     confrontation with Travis on their cell phone.
    “I thought you could use this.” Jessica walked in the open door of his office with
     a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She set it down beside the paper and smiled.
     “Really? Fisticuffs?”
    He sipped the hot coffee as he stared at the picture of him slugging Travis in the
     face. “Who says fisticuffs?”
    She laughed. “Okay. Murderous rampage then.”
    “Jess, if I were in the mood for jokes, I’d laugh, but right now…” He sat back in
     his chair and groaned.
    She leaned against his desk. “Look, I think it’s sweet that you got jealous and punched
     my brother out. Having grown up with him, there were many times I wanted to do the
     same thing.”
    He glanced at her in surprise. “You’re