Jake couldn’t believe it when Sophie leaned over the bar and said, “Oooh, how exciting. Medical thrillers always leave me breathless.”

Didn’t she get that this loser was way beneath her? She should be throwing a drink in his face, not giving him a better view of her perfect body as she leaned down to grab a bottle of beer. Dr. Dickwad looked like he’d hit a home run, was counting the minutes until he could strip that dress from her tanned skin and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled.

Like hell. Jake would kill him first.

Jake snatched the bottle from her hand. “Here’s your beer. Time to let everyone else get a drink.”

He could feel Sophie frowning at him as he pinned the guy with his hardest look. If she couldn’t pick good from bad, he was going to have to save her. Whether she wanted him to or not was irrelevant.

Although the guy flinched at Jake’s silent promise of violence, it didn’t stop him from saying, “Be sure to save a dance for me, gorgeous,” before he walked away.

Jake held on to his control by a very thin thread. Nothing would feel better than to jump over the bar and tackle the guy to teach him what happened when he flirted with the wrong girl. A girl who was too sweet, too pretty, too damn perfect for him to ever even think of touching one hair on her head.

“You’re not dancing with him,” he growled. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

“I’m a big girl, Jake. I’ll dance with whomever I want.”

Serving the customer always took priority. But not this time. Turning his back on the crowd still in line, he slid between Sophie and the bar, then put his hands on her shoulders and gripped her hard.

“No. You won’t. He’s not good enough for you.”

“It’s so sweet of you to be concerned, Jake,” she said in a soft voice. “But I can take care of myself.”

“Your brothers would kill me if anything happened to you.” Hell, they’d kill him if they ever suspected the way he was thinking about her.

“Actually,” she said as she looked over his shoulder, “I think my brother’s guests might kill both of us if we don’t keep serving them drinks.”

Very reluctantly, Jake shifted back into position. But even though he didn’t spill a drop and his fingers didn’t slip on any more bottles, his attention was wholly focused on Sophie. Which was why he saw her shoot a glance at the a-hole who had been flirting with her just before saying, “I think he looks perfectly harmless. In fact...”

Jake tossed an empty bottle into the bin beneath the bar with a loud crash. “In fact what?”

“Since you don’t want to help me out with my plan to make my ex jealous, maybe I should use that guy instead.”

“Sammy,” he called out across the reception area, motioning for his employee to take over the bar again. He didn’t wait for Sam to make it to the bar before wrapping his hand around Sophie’s wrist and pulling her out from behind the bar. He didn’t stop walking until they were hidden behind a large storage shed, just on the edge of the reception area.

“No.”

She looked down at his hand where it was still clamped around her wrist. “There are thousands of other words in the English language, you know.”

He ignored her sarcasm and told her flat out, “You are not getting within a hundred feet of that guy again.”

Anger flared in her eyes. Eyes that had been full of happy tears, full of pure joy, just a short while ago. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

She yanked her arm from his and started to walk away, but he couldn’t let her go. Not when she was bound to do something stupid, like kiss a smarmy doctor. And maybe even offer him her body, those sweet curves slipping and sliding beneath him as she gave herself to him.

Furious at the picture of anyone touching Sophie like that, instead of just grabbing her wrist or her shoulders, this time Jake wrapped his arms all the way around her and pulled her into him. He held her tight, her chest pushing into his forearms, her height matching his so that her hips fit perfectly between his open legs, her soft hips pressing into his groin.

“Let go of me.”

“No.”

His new favorite word was muffled by her hair, so soft, so silky against his chin and lips. And the truth was, he couldn’t have let go of her for the world. Not just because he didn’t want that other guy touching her...but because he’d never wanted to hold anyone more than he did Sophie.

How long had he dreamed of holding her? Too many years to keep count. And yet, he’d never had a clue just how incredibly good she would feel in his arms, her dangerous curves pressed into him, her chest rising and falling against his arms.

“I’m not going to let you go until you promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

Now it was her turn to say, “No.”

He shifted his hand enough to slip a finger beneath her chin and turn her face so that he could look into her eyes. “Promise me, Sophie. It’s for your own good.”

Sophie yanked her face away from his hand, then her whole body, and when she turned to face him head-on, her eyes were flashing. “I can’t believe you just said that! Especially since you of all people have no idea whatsoever what’s good for me.”

“Wanna bet?”

His mouth was on hers before he could put the brakes on his desire. He was too angry, too frustrated with himself for wanting her this much—and her infuriating stubbornness—to be gentle.

Lips weren’t enough. He needed tongues. Needed to slide one hand into her hair to tilt her head at just the right angle to take what she’d been about to offer some other worthless guy. Needed to grip the luscious curve of her hips with his other hand to drag her in closer.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew he was moving too fast for her to possibly enjoy the kiss, let alone keep up with him. But even though she should have been fighting him, her arms were twined around his neck and she was moaning softly against his mouth as her tongue pressed out to slide against his.

Sweet Lord, Sophie was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her. He couldn’t stop his hand from creeping up from her hips to her waist, to the bottom of her rib cage and then—holy hell, she felt good—the curve of one breast in his palm.

She gasped into his mouth, shivering with pleasure as his thumb crested the aroused tip, and Jake knew he was barely a breath away from lowering her to the grass and pulling her dress up her long legs, until he could touch and lick and—