Page 11 of Billionaire Protector

Getting payback on childhood nemesis:5 stars

Extremely enjoyable and so much fun. Great for a rainy afternoon or day when you have a few hours to kill. One warning…

Expect retribution.

How would he get her back?

There were just so many ways, and he had to choose the right one (or ten). He may have been ridiculously out of line when he mentioned locking her up, something he still couldn’t believe he’d done, but that’s exactly what he had the urge to do right now.

Because at this moment he wasdusting.

Yes, decorated hero Cole Carter was dusting. Only there wasn’t actually any dust. And if that wasn’t fun enough, he was also polishing wood, making coffee and his personal favorite: cleaning the bathrooms,boththe men’s and women’s.

How was he going to get her back?

He wasn’t one of those macho men who thought cleaning was only women’s work. He’d even dusted before. However, when he went to his job as a police officer, he didn’t expect his entire shift to be filled with such duties. During his father’s reign, the police department utilized a janitorial service, and he’d seen their supplies. Zoe confirmed none of the deputies scrubbed, washed or dusted. Ever. No, he wasn’t cleaning because it was necessary. It was a punishment.

Why did Sarah make him act this way? His parents had taught him to be a gentleman, and for the most part they’d been successful. He’d never talk to another lady like that, much less the sheriff and his boss, but somehow she made him lose control. She was lucky he hadn’t broken down and done exactly as he threatened.

She’d be lucky if he didn’t do it now.

She may be the sheriff, but he was no errand boy. He respected authority, but she needed to understand he wouldn’t sit back and take this. He tossed the duster on the table, grabbed his keys and strode to the dispatcher. “I need to find Sar– Sherriff Sloan. Do you know where she is?”

Mrs. Clemens, the gray-haired dispatcher, answered in her nasal, no-nonsense tone, “She’s been working a call at Mrs. Carmichael’s house. Little George is stuck in a tree again.

A kid was stuck in a tree, and she had him dusting? “She’s by herself?”

Mrs. Clemens shrugged. “She didn’t ask for help.”

Of course not. She’d rather put a kid at risk than ask him to do the job for which he’d been hired. No more. She was getting help, whether she wanted it or not. “I’m joining her,” he informed the dispatcher, and didn’t wait for a response as he strode out of the station and to his car.

He climbed into his police vehicle, slightly older than those in the big cities but well-maintained and clean. Turning on thesirens, he raced as quickly as he dared, the anticipation building. He’d missed this part of the service, rushing out to help people, to do good. Time to get back into action.

Sarah Sloan was not going to stand in his way.

“This is ridiculous! George, you come down right now. Your grandmama is worried about you.” Sarah put her hands on her hips as she glared at the pint-sized miscreant in the massive oak tree. He stuck his tongue out at her, then disappeared into the foliage. She lifted her hands. How could she be doing this again?

She turned to Mrs. Carmichael, a tiny woman who barely reached Sarah’s shoulders, and only because of her gigantic gray bun. She’d seen eighty long ago. “He doesn’t seem to want to come down.”

Sirens sounded in the distance, louder and louder. Sarah frowned. Hopefully, a true emergency wasn’t happening while she was dealing with this nonsense. George scampered deeper into the tree and out of sight as the patrol car screeched to a halt in the back alley. Sarah blinked as Cole Carter emerged from the vehicle. What was he doing here?

“Deputy Carter,” she greeted as he tramped over. “I’m surprised you’ve already finished your… duties.” She allowed herself a smile. She had only planned on giving him a few hours of the busy work, in what she admitted was a childish move. Today, she deserved it.

His eyes narrowed as he strode far too close, his tall form silhouetted against the blazing sun. His broad chest took up her vision, muscles shifting under the suit. She swallowed through a suddenly dry throat, as he said lowly so only she could hear, “I didn’t want to put your janitorial service out of business.”

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “There’s enough for you to share.”

“My place is where I’m needed.” He gave a brief nod to Mrs. Carmichael. “What seems to be the problem, ma’am? Is one of the grandkids in the tree?”

And just like that he took over. Sarah gritted her teeth. “Cole–”

“Oh yes!” Mrs. Carmichael cried. “My little grandbaby George got mad and climbed up the tree. Now he’s hiding under the leaves.”

“I’m dealing with it.” Sarah managed to keep her tone light for Mrs. Carmichael. “He’s fine. He’ll come down in a few hours when he’s good and ready.”

“You can’t be serious.” Cole’s expression hardened to steel. “You want her to sit and wait while a child is up in a tree?”

Sarah frowned. Mrs. Carmichael might refer to little George as her grandchild, but the title wasn’t quite accurate. Why was Cole so upset? Unless… “Cole, you do know George is a–”

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