I caught a flash of annoyance in Byron’s emerald green eyes. Then he turned to her and smiled. ‘There’s no need to be so formal,’ he said to her. ‘Call me Byron.’

Her mouth parted and she licked her lips. She moved away from me so I was presented with her back and started to regale him with an anecdote about her girlfriends and another local bar. It wasn’t particularly interesting; besides I was prepared for competition. She was too young and too eager. I knew he’d get rid of her before long. And I could play this game too.

I shuffled away on my bar stool to give myself more room, took another sip of the delectable champagne and glanced casually around the bar, my gaze falling on the Cockney bloke. Feeling my eyes, he looked up and glowered. I shrugged in apology and offered a half smile. His mouth tightened and I thought he wasn’t going to take the bait but he wasn’t that unpredictable. Less than twenty seconds later he was back by my side.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ he snarked.

I toyed with my glass. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude before. I’ve had a bad day. Now I’ve got a drink or two inside me, I’m starting to relax. Perhaps I can buy you one to make up for how I acted.’

‘I don’t let women buy me drinks,’ he threw out in typical Neanderthal fashion. Then he looked at Byron and the girl behind me. ‘I guess you’ve been given the brush off too.’

I smiled. ‘I guess so.’

He leered down my dress. ‘Why don’t we leave this place and head upstairs? Then maybe you’ll open those legs for me after all.’

Ick. Ick. Ick. I held up my palms. ‘Er, actually I…’

There was a sudden crack in the air and he was thrown backwards, falling several feet through the air and landing dazed against the wall. My mouth dropped open.

‘I think you owe the lady an apology,’ Byron growled. He was on his feet, his brows snapped together and his mouth tight. I’d expected a reaction but not that fast and not that violent. The Sidhe girl backed away, her hand clasped to her mouth as she looked from the sprawled Cockney to Byron and back again.

‘What happened?’ she squeaked.

I frowned at him. ‘I don’t need a hero,’ I told him. ‘I was handling that.’

His expression grew even darker. ‘It didn’t sound like you were handling it.’

I wondered if I was now seeing the real Byron, heir presumptive to the Sidhe stewardship and all that entailed. If that was the case, he certainly had a temper.