He strode toward them. Then he saw the asshole in a suit with shiny hair lean closer to her. Saxon had the right line of sight to see the man slide his hand onto her leg.
Saxon’s gaze whipped back to Gia’s face. Was she on a date?
No. Her face was composed, her professional look. Only someone who knew her well would sense the temper brewing.
She moved the asshole’s hand, clearly attempting to redirect the conversation.
Saxon strode closer, coming up behind them.
“Neil, this is a business meeting. I expect you to act professionally, if you want to work with Firelight PR and have us take on your account. Please keep your hands to yourself.”
“Gia, you must feel our attraction.” The man leaned in. “I want you naked. I want to fuck you.” His hand went sliding under the table again.
Saxon saw red.
He gripped the idiot and yanked him out of his chair.
The asshole yelped, and the chair tipped over. The guests at nearby tables gasped.
Gia shot to her feet. “Saxon!”
“She said hands off, asshole.”
The suit straightened. “Who the hell are you?”
“The guy who’ll make sure you keep your hands to yourself.”
Mr. Shiny Hair frowned and looked at Gia. “Are you with this guy? Everyone I spoke with said you were single.”
Gia made a sound that Saxon knew well. She was heading toward losing it. She’d made that sound with Saxon too many times to count.
“Whether I’m seeing anyone or not is none of your business, Neil. As I’ve told you repeatedly, and you haven’t listened, I’m not interested in you personally, only professionally.”
“So, you are fucking him?”
Saxon growled and took a step forward. Gia slapped a hand to his chest. “Not one more step, Saxon.” She turned to the man. “It wouldn’t matter if I was sleeping with the entire lineup of the San Francisco 49ers. Who I sleep with is none of your business.” She drew in a breath. “I don’t think you’re the right fit for Firelight PR, Neil. I’d be happy to give you some recommendations for other firms.”
“Fuck you. I’ve wasted weeks on you.”
Saxon lunged and punched the guy in his glossy teeth.
With a cry, Neil flew back into several chairs, knocking them over. He flopped around on the ground.
“Just great.” Brown eyes skewered Saxon. “You can’t solve everything with your fists, you know?”
“Why not?”
She glanced at him, her look withering, then turned and tossed her napkin on the man on the floor. “Goodbye, Neil. Don’t call me again.”
Then Gia took Saxon’s hand and dragged him out of the restaurant.
Gia nodded at the open-mouthed hostess. “Sorry for the drama. Please put the drinks on my account.”
She towed Saxon outside and spun to face him. “Why are you here? How dare you barge your way into my business meeting and punch my potential client in the face.”
“He was an asshole.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“So pick up the phone.”
“Would you have answered?’
Her nose wrinkled. “Possibly.” She sighed. “Let me call my driver.”
“I have my car.” He pressed a hand to the small of her back, sending electricity tingling across his fingers. She was a tiny, curvy package. He wanted to tug her curls out of the tidy roll they were trapped in.
“So, you like having potential clients paw you?” There was an edge to his voice, but he couldn’t seem to tone it down.
“No. I was dealing with it.”
“Like you were dealing with things Saturday night?”
Her glare was hot enough to melt metal. “Finesse takes time, Saxon. You don’t have to resort to violence in one millisecond.”
“You shouldn’t have left the office.”
“God, you’re so bossy.”
“Your point?”
“Take the time to talk to people, Buchanan. Ask, explain, use your pleases and thank yous. You know, act like a nice person.”
He raised a brow.
She huffed out a breath. “You are aggravating.”
“Right back at you, Contessa.”
“Why shouldn’t I have left the office?” she asked, with exaggerated patience.
“It’s not safe yet. Until Willow returns the gems, there’s still a risk Dennett will target you.”
Saxon stopped by his dark-blue Bentley Continental GT.
Gia faced him. “Dennett knows I don’t have them, and that he risks going up against Vander and Norcross Security if he pursues this. He won’t come after me again, which is why Vander didn’t order me to stay at the office.”
Saxon pressed his hands to the car either side of her, caging her in. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take, Gia.”
She swallowed, and the air between them charged.
Oh yeah, Gia Norcross liked to irritate the fuck out of him, but she felt the incessant, always-simmering attraction between them.
Saxon leaned an inch closer and their breath mingled. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
She eyed his lips. “Because I’m Vander’s sister?”
“Yes. And because I’ve known you half my life. And because I want to keep that curvy little body of yours in one piece.”
She pressed a hand to his chest. “Step back.”
He hesitated, then did as she asked. They were exposed on the street, but soon, very soon, he’d get Gia alone and make things clear to her. He reached past her and opened the car door for her.
After he closed the door, he circled the car and slid inside.
“Why are you so worried about this Dennett guy?” she asked.
Saxon expertly pulled into traffic. “He’s trying to make a name for himself.”
“Doing?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that. Drugs. Prostitution.”
“God, why are there so many assholes in the world?” she grumbled.
Saxon noted that she was stroking the leather seat. He watched those neat, painted nails and thought of them stroking other things. “You like my car?”
“It’s a nice car.” She glanced at him. “Only the best for Saxon Buchanan.”
Everyone liked to give him hell about liking the best. So what if he liked his cars expensive, his suits tailored, and his sheets one-thousand thread count? He could afford it, and he’d spent ten fucking years on missions sleeping in clothes he’d worn for days, smelling ripe, in the middle of warzones. “Well, I wouldn’t buy a shit car.”
She snorted. “So, Dennett’s making a name for himself.”
“Proving himself. Making an impression with people he’d like to work with. Makes him unpredictable. If word gets out that his junkie ex-girlfriend stole a bag of precious stones, his rep takes a hit.”
“Hmm.” Gia tapped her nails on the dash.
“And the bag of stones is worth two hundred and fifty grand.”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open.
“Your friend didn’t just steal a few baubles.”
Gia looked out the window. “Goddamn you, Willow.”