Page 3 of His To Protect

“How old?” he demanded, ignoring the guilt trip she just laid on him.

“Twenty-nine,” she replied, but there was the double blink in quick succession and the eye shift again.

He narrowed his gaze at her and growled, “Try again.”

“Okay, fine!” Another eyeroll. “Twenty-four.”

His brow lifted until she fished out her license and slid it across the table to prove it. He knew fakes and this one wasn’t one. He pushed it back.

“Where’s the money from?”

“Inherited. My grandparents. Died six months ago within weeks of each other. That’s another reason I need to find my dad.”

He didn’t offer condolences. That’s not what she needed. He nodded instead. “His parents?”

“No, my mom’s.” She took in a breath, her chest rising with it. And suddenly she looked as weary as he felt.

That look brought forth his first pangs of empathy. She may be a brat but she was one in need.

She was still hiding something. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue, but he’d get it out of her eventually. He always did. Bratty little girls like her were easy to crack. And dammit, he needed the money.

And maybe that damn father of hers would teach her some sense too. Hopefully before he took it upon himself and spanked some sense into her.

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