Page 13 of When He Protects

Grayson crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t buy that. I don’t think you’re the guessing type, lady. I think you’re a criminal straight to your beautiful core.”

Tyler shot him an annoyed glare.

Grayson ignored the glare. “And I think you’re playingsome kind of game with me. With us all. I want answers. I want them now.”

“We don’t necessarily get what we want in this world.” Her gaze raked Tyler.Always faithful.It was all she could do not to sigh again. No, in this world, we did not always get what we wanted. But sometimes…we did.

“My boss wants to offer you a deal,” Grayson repeated, as if she’d missed the words the first time. “He talked to some contact he has at the CIA, and they are both about to shit themselves.”

She winced. “I’m sure there is a medicine for that.”

Wait, did Tyler’s lipsalmosttwitch? She thought they had. Good to know that, buried ever so deeply inside her marshal, there was a sense of humor.

“They have this idea that you’re some big, fucking player in an international game.” Grayson was still prattling on about something. Oh, right. The something in question was her. His prattles focused on her.

“What?” Esme twirled a lock of her hair and strove to appear innocent. “Little old me? A big player? I am flattered.” Her feet swung again. Lazily.

“You’re also on an international hit list.” From Grayson once more.

At his revelation, she stopped swinging her feet. “Say that again?”

But it was Tyler who stepped forward. He stepped so close that his crisp, masculine scent teased her nose. “You don’t sound French.”

“No?” Her brows shot up. “Je veux te baiser.”

Grayson choked.

A faint furrow appeared between Tyler’s steely blue eyes.

She rolled one shoulder. “I have lived all over the world.My father—mon père,if that makes me sound more French—has been an ambassador for a very long time. I speak five languages fluently, and I can adopt any accent necessary in order for that language to sound very, very clear.Mon pèrealways said that speaking as clearly as possible to your audience is necessary. Very important in diplomacy. Being understood, that is. If you’re not understood by the people you’re communicating with, then chaos will reign.” When she’d been a child, her mother had called her chaos. A special little nickname.

She’d loved her mother.

Grayson slapped his hand down on the table near her.

She frowned at him. Had there been some point in that slap against the wood?

“Could we get back to the international hit list?” Grayson gritted out.

Her heart rate had kicked up even more, but she kept her voice cool as she inquired, “A hit list, you say? Onmoi?”

“Reporters got wind of the robbery last night. Not just the crew that we arrested, but your involvement, too. A picture of you—cuffed and being placed in a patrol car—has made the rounds on the Internet.”

She slanted a glance at Tyler. “That was your fault. You are way too into bondage.”

Did a faint red stain those incredible cheekbones of his? Adorable.

“The Feds have teams that work the dark web. All of the chatter they’re picking up suggests that certain very dangerous parties believe you’re the international thief known as the Fox. So named because the thief is supposed to be damn cunning, sly, and exceedingly elusive.” Grayson was clearly the chatty one in the friend group.

Meanwhile, her marshal was the tall, dark anddangerously silent type. That was fine. She could chat enough for the both of them. “I am?I’m the Fox?” When you made the words sound like a question, they didn’t count as a confession. Fun point.

“You’re an international thief,” Grayson charged. “A thief who has made certain parties very, very angry. We found a hit on you on the dark web. Five million dollars.”

Just five million? That was what her life was going for these days? Should she be insulted?

“And because of the picture and the press and the power of social media, you’re going to be hunted now,” Grayson continued in his doom-and-gloom voice. “The photo proves to certain nefarious parties that you are the Fox. You know, the parties that you stole items from over the years?”

As if she’d admit any guilt. But…