Spike stared out at the cheap motel Steele’s driver pulled up in front of.
Fucking hell. This was where she was staying? Seriously?
“Stay in the car,” he told her. “I’ll get your stuff.”
“Uh, no way. It’s my stuff. I’ll do it. You wait in the car.”
Was she serious? She reached for her belt. Christ, she was. Leaning over, he grabbed her hand. “There could be someone in there.”
“There’s no way he could be waiting in there for me.”
Fuck it. He knew she was right. “Fine. But you do as I say. At all times.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’d like that rule to apply all the time and not just while I’m getting my things?”
That would make his life much easier.
“Stay there. You get out my side. When I say.”
“Righto,” she said cheerfully.
Spike really didn’t understand her. How could she be cheerful right now? Shouldn’t she be a mess? She wasn’t like any woman he’d met before.
He climbed out and stood in the open door of the car, looking around suspiciously. The lot was dark. There were hardly any working lights in the parking area. Movement off to the right caught his attention. Raul, Damon’s driver, reached for his gun, holding it out at his side as he gazed over at the same spot.
A woman dressed in a barely-there, skin tight dress stepped forward. “Interest you boys in some fun?”
“No,” Raul told her. “You’ll have better luck somewhere else.”
“How about you, big guy,” she said in a husky voice. The smell of cigarettes and sweat clung to her. “You want me to join you in the back of that fancy car?”
He just gave her a look.
She huffed.
Millie stood up on the lip of the door and looked over his shoulder at the woman.
What the fuck did she think she was doing? Anger flooded him; his palm grew itchy.
If she was his . . .
Not yours.
Yes, but maybe they’d need to establish a few rules for while she was under his protection.
And some consequences if she broke those rules.
“Hey, Rhonda,” she said cheerfully.
The woman lost that predatory look, actual warmth filling her face. “Millie! What you doing?” She frowned at Spike. “You okay? This guy bothering you?”
“Nah. He’s an, um, friend. We’re just here to get some of my stuff.”
“Millie,” he warned.
He should have known this was a bad idea. The woman didn’t seem to have a clue of the possible danger she could be in. Or the fact that she shouldn’t trust anyone.
Oh no, she seemed to go around trusting everyone.