Page 91 of Theirs to Hunt
Like she's deciding whether to kiss me or kick me in the shin.
Both turn me on.
She takes in the scene.
Me, leaned against a sleek black Bentley Continental, arms crossed, grin already forming.
The guards stay half a step behind her, giving her room but not distance.
"I see Grayson's subtlety is contagious," she says dryly, eyeing the car.
"Subtle is boring," I reply, pushing off the car.
"And predictable. Neither of which we allow around you anymore."
She snorts.
"So I noticed."
"These two are Cade and Maddox," I say, nodding to the guards.
"Military background. Close protection specialists. They don't speak unless necessary, and yes, they're armed."
Both men nod once in unison, expressionless, alert, and probably ready to kill for her without asking why.
Reagan raises an eyebrow.
"Armed? For a drive to the doctor's office?"
I step closer, drop my voice just enough that only she hears.
"You're not just the new girl anymore, Bambi. You're ours. And that means anyone who tries to get near you without clearance gets to find out just how fast we respond."
Her throat bobs once.
Her eyes stay steady on mine.
"Understood," she says softly.
I open the car door for her and glance at the guards.
"You'll follow her car in a separate vehicle. Stay sharp."
They nod again.
She slips into the passenger seat with a quiet sigh, fingers tracing the leather interior.
She's already memorizing it.
I shut the door behind her and circle around.
As I slide into the driver's seat, she glances at me sideways.
"Is this car going to explode if I roll my eyes too hard?"
I grin.
"No, but I might if you keep biting your lip like that."
