Page 21 of Protected Hearts

He let out a low noise and went still. A sudden realization of what they were doing struck.

Abruptly, she jerked out of his arms and wrapped her own around her middle. She was so starved for human interaction, she was practically attacking the man. She’d started this.

Heat burned in her cheeks, and she avoided his gaze.

“I’ll leave you to your bath,” he gritted out.

She watched him go. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the entire doorframe, the lines of his back strong and rigid.

And his muscled backside she knew the feel of now.

She stepped forward and shut the door behind him.

Closing the door on her thoughts was much, much harder.

* * * * *

Oaks’s boots thumped on the hardwood floors, drowning out the sound of the water that he’d run in the tub for Shiloh. His new wife.

Christ. This whole day had been a shit show, starting with too many boxes of shoes and ending with him sporting a hard-on.

The faster he got away from Shiloh and those big gray-blue eyes that seemed to cling to him in some unspoken plea, the better. He knew her type, had experienced the charms of women like that before. They knew exactly how to get what they wanted from a man with a single look.

He didn’t have a hero complex, not at all. But the way she looked just now—fragile and vulnerable as hell—made him want to save her from whatever darkness hunted her.

When he reached Carson’s private office, he didn’t bother to knock. The space was one of the smallest in the house, but his oldest brother liked the confined quarters. Only a lamp burned on his desk, casting his face in a small glow.

At his entrance, his brother looked up from the computer screen. “Shut the door.”

Oaks had already beat him too it. Closing doors was automatic when you had six siblings. There was always someone ready to eavesdrop on a phone conversation or a scolding from their father back when the bastard was alive.

Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat in the chair, with the desk between him and his brother.

Carson’s expression gave nothing away about what he was reading, but Oaks already knew.

“What did you dig up on her?”

Carson quirked a brow. “She’s your wife. Shouldn’t you already know everything?”

He shook his head. “Jackass. You know how this whole thing went down. What do you have?”

“Looks like yourwifeis a brilliant programmer.”

And he’d just left her alone with a laptop.

“She worked for a Forbes 500 tech company and, up until about six months ago, dated the founder and CEO. Then she disappeared.”

“I was right. She knows something.”

Carson gave a single nod. “This isn’t just a scorned girlfriend or a simple stalker problem.”

“No. She was being sold to Russians. I don’t know a lot, but I know of that group. I know what the tattoos they have mean, what they stand for and what they’ve done.” He tapped his toes inside his boot, his nerves invisible on the surface.

“You think her ex knows he was funding a terrorist attack?” asked Carson.

“Undeniably. She had something to hand to the CIA, after all.”

“We need her to talk. If she’s contacted the CIA, there’s already an international investigation underway.”

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