Wicked Dirty (Stark World 2)

He reeled, but came up fast, Riley's diligent training coming in handy as Lyle caught Greg's arm, twisted it behind his back, and held it there, mere inches from breaking.

"Fuck, man," Greg yelled. "That hurts."

"It's supposed to. And your punch wasn't exactly a tickle, either."

The door slammed open again, and this time, Joy rushed out, her eyes wide. "What on earth is going on back here? Lyle! What the hell? Let him go."

Lyle did, releasing him and shoving him at the same time, so that Greg stumbled, lost his balance, then fell on his ass.

He got up, scowling as Lyle thrust out his hand. "Give me my damn keys."

"Hold on," Joy said, coming between the two of them, and spreading her arms like a referee in a boxing match. "What just happened?"

"This asshole just punched me in the stomach."

"And that prick set Laine up. Engagement my ass."

A fresh wave of anger boiled inside him, but before he could lash out again, Joy spoke.

"No, he didn't. I just got off the phone with Laine, and it's not his fault, okay? I told you--Lyle's a good guy."

Greg made a scoffing noise, and Joy's brow lifted.

"Fine," Greg said. "Whatever."

She lowered her hands and backed away, then pointed a finger at each of them in turn. "Play nice, you two."

"Hey," Lyle said. "All I was doing was getting my car."

Greg drew in a noisy breath. "We're cool," he said to Joy. Then he faced Lyle. "But if you hurt her, we'll be a long way from cool. And I swear, I'll make your life a living hell."

"Not a problem," Lyle said. "I won't hurt her." That, at least, was a promise he intended to keep.

&nbsp

; For a moment, he thought Greg was going to say something else, but all he did was toss Lyle his keys, then turn around and head back inside.

Lyle exhaled, all the tension draining from him. "Thanks, Joy," he said, then started toward his car.

"Hold up there, Cowboy."

He paused, not sure if he was exasperated or pleased that Sugar had so many good friends. "She told you what happened," he said. "I didn't set her up with the reporters."

"I know. It's cool. It's the rest we need to talk about."

He frowned. "The rest?"

She crossed her arms and cocked her head. "I know, Lyle."

"Know?" His skin felt clammy, and a heavy lump settled in his stomach. "What exactly do you know?"

"I'm Marjorie's cousin. And her assistant. I'm one of the few that has access to everything. All above board and legal," she added, her hands going up in supplication. "You read the NDA. You know her team has access."

"What do you want?" The words were harsh. Tight.

"Not a damn thing. It's what I don't want."

"What's that?"