Page 51 of When He Protects

No answer. But when he reached down, the knob turned easily. Not locked. He opened the door. “Esme?”

Again, no answer. He pushed open the door more.Eased inside. The lamp beside the bed had been left on, and it spilled a soft glow onto the big bed. An old brass bed. Certainly large enough for two. But the bed was empty.

The bathroom door creaked open. Automatically, his head turned toward that door. Steam drifted around Esme as she stood there, with a white towel wrapped around her body. Her gaze swept over him.

He should speak. And pick up his jaw from the floor. “You, ah, you saved that girl today.”

Soft laughter slipped from her as she strolled toward him. “Stop giving me credit I don’t deserve.” Esme stopped right in front of him and tipped back her head. Her wet hair slid over her shoulders. “I knew there was plenty of time to get out of that truck’s way. He really wasn’t going that fast. I wanted the people in town to like me, so, goal achieved.” Her hand rose, and she gave his cheek a little pat. “You are so gullible. It’s almost charming.” A soft sigh. She turned away. Headed for the bed. With her back to him, she dropped the towel and provided him with a truly impressive view of her fine ass. “Feel free to join me in bed. There’s certainly enough room for two.” She slid beneath the covers.

He wasn’t breathing.

“Oh, by the way…” Her voice floated to him. “I hope you had a great chat on the phone with your federal buddy.”

Could the woman hear everything?

“Tell me, was it anything like the glorious chat you and your sheriff friend had about me? Always great to know that you’re in the game of manipulation so that you can learn all of my dark and naughty secrets.”

Fuck.

Esme was pissed. And he was screwed.

The day had been entirely toofreaking long. Grayson grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, flipped off his desk light, and headed for his door.

But the door opened before he could reach it.

His boss stared back at him. “Ah, Agent Stone!” Thaddeus Caldwell cleared his throat. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Now?But if his boss was making an appearance, the someone there to see him had to be a BFD. So he stepped back and put a smile on his face as he got ready to meet the Big Fucking Deal in question.

His boss entered the office first.

Thaddeus was followed immediately by a hulking guy in black.Bodyguard? Hired muscle? That’s what the man screams.

Then…

An older man, silver at his temples, hair perfectly trimmed, and wearing a suit that appeared to cost more than a month of Grayson’s salary. The man’s dark eyes swept assessingly over Grayson. “Special Agent Stone.”

“That’s me.” He inclined his head. “And you are…?” But he already knew. Because he had this man’s picture—and his file—in his top desk drawer.

“I’m Etienne Laurent, and I want my daughter.”

Oh, damn. “Your daughter?” he echoed. He did not look at his boss.

“Don’t insult either of us,s’il vous plaît.I know that you were the agent who arrested my daughter in that bit of confusion that occurred at Jorlan’s residence. I’ve spoken with him, and he has assured me that he has no intention ofpressing charges against my Esme for something that was simply a miscommunication.”

Grayson rubbed the back of his neck. “When, exactly, did you speak with Jorlan?”

“This evening, when I was flying to the country because some foolish FBI agent had erroneously arrested my daughter. The daughter of a diplomat.” His dark stare was unblinking. And icy cold. “I’d certainly better not learn that you’ve been keeping my daughter locked up this entire time.”

His boss really needed to give him some kind of signal on how to proceed here. But Thaddeus remained silent and stoic.Great, just gonna let this shit hit the fan, huh?

“Esme,” Etienne said. “Now.”

So, since Thaddeus wasn’t offering a lifeline, Grayson would just go with the story they’d established previously and hope like hell that his boss had not changed his mind. “Esme was released long ago. She’s certainly not in any cell.”

Still no blinks from the French Ambassador. “So where is she?”

“Uh, have you tried calling her?”

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