Page 90 of When He Defends
– Gray Stone
Soft,tranquil music filled the private room at the resort’s spa. Water gurgled from a miniature fountain in the right corner of the room even as soft candlelight flickered nearby.One, two, three, four…Four candles.
Emerson, stop counting!
The massage table waited with its soft covers pulled down.
“Just undress to your level of comfort,” Angel instructed her. “You can get on the table, and when you are ready, just call out to me.”
She stood by the massage table, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “I had a friend who recommended your services.”
Angel quirked a brow.
“River,” Emerson offered the name in what she hoped was a casual tone. “She told me that you were phenomenal.”
Angel frowned. “I don’t recall a session with someone named River.” Angel’s smile came quickly, stretching across his face, flashing his dimples, and making his eyes twinkle. “But I have a whole lot of clients. Sometimes, people will come to see me each day of their stay. I tend to be pretty popular.”
Yep. She could imagine that he was.
Angel looked like a Greek god. Tall, muscular, with features that could only be described as drop-dead gorgeous. If perfection had a form, it would be Angel’s.
“Are there any particular areas of concern you have?” Angel inquired politely in his deep and warm voice. “Any areas of your body that you think I should focus upon?”
“Ah…” Emerson swallowed. “You know, feet. Feet work. My feet are tired. I do lots of walking in heels.”
“Right. The feet. I’ll be sure to give them attention.” That perfect smile flashed once more. “Again, you undress to your level of comfort, and I’ll be right back inside when you are ready for me.” He headed for the door.
Before he could reach the door, it swung open. Gray stood there. A glaring Gray.
“Sir,” Angel began as his body tensed. “This is a private session, and you can’t?—”
“That’smywife. I can. Trust me,I can.” His stare swept over Angel. Then, “Nope. Hell, no. This is not happening.”
“Excuse me?” Angel backed up a step.
“You’re not putting your hands on my wife. She’s not undressing in front of you.” Anger seethed in Gray’s voice. “You’re not rubbing her down with oil and giving her the fucking ‘heavenly treatment’ with Angel that I just heard about in the lobby. Screw that. She’s skipping massage time with you.I’vegot her.”
“Gray…” Emerson began.
His gaze collided with hers. “No.” Flat. “Not happening. I’ll pay for the time, but Angel can just take his ass on break.”
“Well, someone is grumpy,” Angel chimed.
“You do not want to go there,” Gray warned him.
Angel peered back at Emerson. “What doyouwant?”
She hadn’t exactly wanted to strip down and get rubbed up by a murder suspect. She and Gray had planned for this interruption. They’d planned for the whole scene. The jealous, overwrought husband persona was fake.
“She wantsme,” Gray snapped.
Angel waited.
Emerson let a soft sigh slip from her lips. “My husband is incredibly jealous. We’re newlyweds.” She wiggled her fingers. Made the big diamond flash. “It’s fine, Angel. My feet feel better already.”
Angel held his ground. “It’s a massage, sir. And I am a professional, always.”
“I’ll give you two hundred bucks if you give us the room and you get your ass out right now.”
