Page 91 of Scarlet Angel

“At the front door, I imagine.”

“You didn’t let him in?”

She wraps her arms around her middle.

“Are you scared of him?” I push up from my desk.

“No.” She lifts her chin, defiant. “If he tried anything, I could handle him.”

“If he tried to hurt you, I would kill him.” She rolls her eyes.

Headstrong.

I step past her, but my gut hollows. I loop an arm around her waist and pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers.

“What’s that for?”

“Needed it.”

Her arm snakes behind my back in a full embrace, infusing me with a sense of calm. She pats my back. Once. Twice.

“Go on. He’s going to think you’re not home.”

“I’m sure the guard told him I’m here. It’s more likely he’ll canvass the house in search of an unlocked door.”

I reach for her hand, interlocking our fingers, and together, we head to the entryway.

Dorian’s face presses against the window to the side of the entry, one hand blocking the sun, his black mop of curls sticking out every which way. The agitation on his face when he sees us is priceless.

I release Scarlet’s hand and rub my palm against the curve of her rump. “Care to take a stroll through the garden?”

“Is he dangerous?” She cocks her head, evaluating me.

“He’s a nuisance.”

I caress her cheek. She’s so fucking gorgeous. If said nuisance wasn’t at the door, I’d properly enjoy her. “He’s American. If he’s here, he’s on business. Let me get that bit out of the way, and if he lingers or asks for the guesthouse, we’ll all dine together.”

She presses up on her toes.

Knock. Knock. Pound. Pound.

She grins. “He lacks patience.”

“One of many attributes he lacks.”

“I’m going to go outside and give Orlando a call.”

“You sure that’s wise?”

“They know where I am. What harm can come from a call? I’ll use my mobile. They already have my number.”

I let out a slow, calming breath. I’ve got a massive amount of security working the perimeter and multiple balls in play. The only intel they can derive is her location, and that’s a known fact. “True enough. Don’t go far.”

“What’s too far?”

Pound. Pound. Pound. “Nick! Come on, man.”

“The stable.” My men patrol the grounds, but I don’t want her close to the perimeter. Yes, surveillance monitors the perimeter, but she needs to stay out of range of any snipers.

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