“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” she insisted.

He smiled. “I don’t, but I’d like to.”

“First your pizza and now this,” Antonia murmured into her glass. “You’re a very giving guy.”

“You have no idea.” His voice was low and directed just to her.

A flash of alarm shot through her body. No, not alarm, something else... Antonia was desperate to extricate herself from the situation. But before she could move past him, she saw a flash of something heavy making a fast descent. The red-faced gentleman in the three-piece suit was taking a dive from his barstool and threatened to take her with him. Antonia moved too slowly to hear Danny’s shout from behind the bar and the scrape of wood against the floor.

Before she had time to react to the flurry of movements, Aiden’s strong arms scooped her up by the waist and shoved her against the bar. They narrowly missed the man who tumbled like a boulder, but she accidentally sloshed her fresh Guinness all over the front of Aiden’s sweater. Antonia gasped from the panic but when she caught Aiden’s gaze, she almost swooned within his grasp. He stared down at her as he shielded her body, and in that split second, she saw something in his eyes: A fierce possessiveness. She now understood the feeling that shot through her body. It wasn’t alarm, it was arousal. His large hands were planted on her hips, clutching her firmly, a vivid reminder of where a man’s hands could trail. While his touch didn’t linger for too long, she recognized the sensation that scorched her skin. Unable to speak, Antonia simply watched Aiden push her to safety before assisting the other men rescue the gentleman on the floor.

They certainly had their work cut out for them. The man was unconscious and lying on his back like a giant tortoise. Three grown men struggled with all of their might to pull dead weight from the floor. “Antonia, go ’round ’em and pull up a chair,” Danny shouted, the tendons in his neck stretched as he dragged the man by his arm.

Antonia set her beer down and raced behind the group of men for the nearest chair. While they heaved, she tried to fit the chair under the man’s hindquarters. “Can you get him to the chair?” she asked.

“Brace yourself!” Danny called out.

“Steady the chair, lass,” Aiden said in an authoritative baritone. “Put your back into it.”

If the situation weren’t so laughable, Antonia would have thought they were hauling a harpooned beast onto a whaling ship. She was slightly shaken, but still alert and strong enough to hold the weight of a drunken patron in a chair. When they got him squarely fitted into a safer seat, they straightened and looked upon their handiwork. Danny took the towel he’d tucked in his waist and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Jaysus, Michael...”

Michael, the drunk man, came to after a couple light slaps on his ruddy cheek.