Page 55 of Ruled By Wizard

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Natalia talking to Buck, who had taken the seat beside her. Dressed sexy as fuck, she was already more of a distraction than Wizard needed tonight. Most of the brothers were too drunk to notice jailbait had slipped through their safeguards.

Promising himself he would either fuck Natalia in those fuck-me heels before the night was over or die trying, he forced his attention back to finding more party crashers.

Wizard sighed. The brothers didn’t know how lucky they were to have him watching their backs.

Bulldozing through the crowd, Doom caught the blonde before she could disappear into the restroom. As he frog-marched her out of the club, he showed no sympathy when she started crying and struggling against his firm grip.

Sensing someone rush past him, Wizard saw Natalia heading for the door.

“Whoa.” He wrapped an arm around her waist before she could follow Doom. “You’re not leaving so early, are you?”

“I’ll be back,” she snapped, trying to wrench herself free. “I want to know why Doom is manhandling that woman.”

“Hell, you don’t need to go outside to find out. I can tell you.”

Guiding her toward the nearest booth, Wizard signaled for Hawk and Margarita to move. He used his body to propel Natalia inside, leaving her no choice but to slide into the tight space.

Anger brought her beautiful face closer to his. “Then tell me before I send you flying out of this booth.”

Her threat amused him. Did she genuinely believe she could physically best him?

“Blondie was under twenty-one. Doom was merely showing her the way out.”

“He didn’t have to be so rough.”

“No, he didn’t, but gentleness wouldn’t have gotten my message across.”

“What message?”

“I don’t want her ass in here, and she isn’t welcome back. Do you think Doom accomplished his mission?”

“Yes.” Natalia’s expression didn’t relax. “I still don’t agree with your methods.”

“You don’t have to.” He shrugged. “I’m the president of this club, which means my opinion is the only one that counts.”

She wasn’t finished arguing. “How do you know she wasn’t old enough to drink? She looked at least twenty-one to me.”

Wizard let his gaze roam over the gauzy fabric covering her breasts, which concealed and tantalized in equal measure. “I’m used to recognizing land mines.”

“And …” she drawled cuttingly, “are you some kind of expert where women are concerned?”

“I’m certainly no expert on women,” he countered. “I just don’t take everything at face value. Tell me, do you trust every man you meet right off the bat?”

Wariness entered her eyes. “No,” she admitted.

“Same.”

Her scathing tone shifted to curiosity. “What made you think she was under drinking age?”

“Her dye job was fucked up. My guess is she did it in a hurry to match the ID someone gave her.”

“And how, may I ask, are you an expert on hair color?”

Ignoring her snide tone, he answered, “My mom had MS. We didn’t have much money to spare for hairdressers, so I learned by watching YouTube videos. Not to brag, but neither my mom nor my sister ever complained when I did their hair.”

Her expression softened with compassion. “I’m sorry. Did your dad help?”

“My father was gone with the wind as soon as they gave her the diagnosis. Said he hadn’t signed up to be her caretaker. He was determined to become a star.”