Page 12 of The Warlord

“If there’s a shooter somewhere, you won’t get hit if Torin is there.”

I felt my eyes widen. “You expect him to take a bullet for me? I barely know the guy, and he barely knows me.”

“It doesn’t matter. He knows what his job is.”

Glancing around the deserted garage, I asked, “Are you expecting shooters to be in here? I mean, we’re in a secured parking area.” There had been a better chance of getting shot when we’d stopped at that gas station.

“I’ve learned to expect shooters to be around every corner, lass.”

Before I could ask him to explain, Torin opened my door, and I stepped out. The concrete was cold on my feet, but at least the surface was dry and relatively clean. Not knowing where to go, I stood there until Grayson rounded the rear of the car and stepped up beside me.

“What is this place?”

“You’ll be staying here before the wedding. The apartment is secure. It’s private, and you’ll have guards with you around the clock.”

I still wasn’t sold on this idea of being a bride, but instead of bitching, I simply said, “Okay.”

He led the way toward the elevator while Torin took up a position behind me. Grayson depressed the ‘up’ button, then slid his hand to the small of his back where a Glock was holstered. Shame on me for not noticing. He pulled the gun free and held it down against his thigh.

The elevator doors slid open smoothly, and I followed Grayson into the elevator. Torin stayed where he was, tipping an imaginary hat my way as the doors slid shut. We traveled to the top floor, and he stepped out first before waving me forward.

I followed—meekly—at his back as his long legs ate up the distance between the elevator and a door marked with the number eight. Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and gestured for me to go inside.

“You don’t want to check it first?” I asked.

“Two of my men were in here just before we got in the elevator. It’s clear.”

Sucking in a breath, I stepped into an apartment that could only be described as sterile. The walls were white, as were the carpets and furniture. Down a short hall, I emerged into a kitchen with white marble countertops and white upper and lower cabinets. I shivered.

“Are you cold?” Grayson asked, walking over to the thermostat on the wall. He fiddled with the knobs and buttons for a moment, and then I felt a blast of warm air coming from the vents above me.

“Thank you.”

“Well, this is the kitchen… obviously. Living room. There are two bedrooms down the hall as well as a bathroom. Your bedroom also has an en suite.” He walked to the fridge and pulled it open. The shelves were filled with food. “Everything you might need has been anticipated. You’re safe here, Sloane.”

Despite his reassurances, I wrapped my arms around myself. “So, what happens now?”

“Finnan will be here shortly—” He was interrupted by a phone call. Holding up a finger, he answered the call, turning his back on me. Whoever he was speaking to, after the initialhello, they spoke in Gaelic. When he hung up, Grayson turned to face me.

“That was Finnan. He can’t make it to see you tonight. He sends his apologies, but he’s going to reschedule dinner to tomorrow night.”

“I don’t have the option to sayno,do I?” I asked.

Grayson shook his head like he regretted his answer. “No, lass.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Fine. Tomorrow night. What about right now? And tonight? You don’t expect me to stay put, do you?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Finnan told me to take care of you tonight, so you’ll be coming out with me later.”

I arched a brow. “Take care of me? You said he was a possessive bastard. Why would he entrust me with you?”

“Because that’s my job.”

“Where are we going tonight?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I’ll be back to pick you up later. There are guards outside and on every level of this apartment building. Don’t do something stupid.”

Thumbing at my chest, I said, “Moi? Do something stupid?”

---