Page 19 of When He Protects

Gray nodded. “Yeah, you are.” He opened the door. “So, to circle back to that first-born son thing?—”

“Go tell your boss that I’m in charge of her protection.”

“On it.”

Tyler looked back to toward the glass. Esme had put her hand up again. Her small palm rested on the glass. And…

His hand rose and pressed over hers. So much bigger. So much stronger.

Esme seemed to stare at him.

What in the hell am I going to do with her?

But, really, wasn’t that answer obvious?

Protect her. Keep her safe at all costs. Eliminate any and every threat that comes her way.

After all, wasn’t that what a good husband would do?

The interrogation roomdoor swung open. Esme gave a little jump even as her hand remained pressed to the glass.

Tyler strolled in. All big and strong and…

“Well, damn.” She snatched her hand away from the glass. So much for the idea that he’d been in there, watching her. She’dfeltlike she was having a moment, but clearly, she’d been deluding herself.

Esme turned fully toward him and hoped that she looked suitably confident and assured. Her stomach was in so many knots that she ached, and her throat had gone bone dry as she waited for Tyler to make his decision.

He kicked the door shut behind him.

She searched his expression. Not reassuring. Just still intense. Kinda scary. “I can’t tell…” Her head cocked. “Is this going to be a yes or a no?”

“Thought I was your non-negotiable.”

She started to inch toward him.

Not necessary.

He immediately closed the distance between them. He stopped right in front of her, trapping her between his body and the mirror behind her. Then he lifted one hand?—

Is he going to touch me?

And he shoved it against the mirror so that he was leaning toward her. Leaning over her. Doing the lean that she’d always found so very sexy when a man utilized it just right. And he was doing it right. The position stretched his black t-shirt over the powerful muscles in his upper arm.

She should probably not be looking at his arm. She should be looking at his face. With an effort, Esme did just that. “You are my non-negotiable,” she agreed.

“If I refuse the protection detail, you’re just going to walk that sweet ass out of here and straight into the line of fire for any hitman who wants to take you out?”

She gasped.

He grimaced. “I?—”

“You think I have a sweet ass? Thank you so much for noticing. I work out a lot.”

His brow furrowed. “Esme…”

Okay, that was a very real shiver that had just skated down her spine. But the way he’d said her name had been extra rumbly and deep and it had been far, far too easy to imagine him speaking the same way when they were, say, tangled together in sweaty bliss in a big bed.

But, they weren’t in bed. They were in an interrogation room. And her life was rather on the line. So she had to focus. Now, what had he said? Ah, yes. “You’re not going to walk out and leave me to be the target of dangerous hitmen.”

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