Page 36 of When He Defends
A faint beam of light fell on his face. High cheekbones. Strong blade of a nose. “Some creep was sneaking up on you and Gray. Had a knife in his hand. Went scurrying into the dark when my crew arrived.” He started the bike. The engine growled. “You’re welcome.”
Someone had been sneaking up on her and Gray?
The biker’s gloved hands rose. His index fingers pointed upward. The rest of his fingers curled down. His fisted hands quickly pressed together. The index fingers didnottouch. A fast motion that she almostmissed. One index finger dropped and slid against his chest.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Loverboy,” the biker called out. “Do a better job of watching your six. I can’t always handle the task.” The engine revved. “Might want to jump back,” he advised Emerson.
She didn’t have to jump. Gray wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her back. The biker drove away even as his motorcycle growled and shuddered beneath him.
Emerson’s hands lowered to press against Gray’s hold. “You can let me go.”
“Yeah…” His breath blew against her ear. “I don’t think so.”
The rest of the team scrambled toward them. Rylan was no longer reaching for his gun. “What in the hell is happening?” hedemanded. “Do youknowwho that guy was? Shit, shit, I can’t believe he was righthere.”
Emerson did not, in fact, know who he was.
“I know,” Gray said. His tone came off as bored. Sure, why not? Normal night for him, huh?Nothing to see here.A make-out session in the dark, bikers, a would-be mugger…
He was sneaking up on you with a knife.Her breath heaved out as she shoved at Gray’s hold. “Let me go.Now.”
He let her go.
Trinity bounded forward. “Pretty sure that was Cassius Striker. He’s the leader of one of the most notorious motorcycle clubs in the US, and he was justhere.Just, what, talking with you both?” Her voice rose. “While the rest of us were drinking inside?”
“Yeah, it was Cass.” Again, Gray seemedbored.“It’s called talking with a source, something I am sure you can all understand.”
“Cassius Striker is your source?”Malik rocked back on his heels. “Sorry, Agent Stone, but I have to call BS. No way that man trades intel on his MC.”
“He trades intel when he wants to find the killer who recently took out one of his members.” Gray glanced at Emerson. “You dropped the coat.”
Crap. She had. She rushed to grab it.
He beat her. Picked it up. Put it back around her shoulders. His touch didn’t linger.
She wanted it to linger.
“Be in the office at 0600 tomorrow,” Gray directed the group. “I’ll brief you on the case, but Dr. Marlowe and I will be the primaries. We’ll be working undercover.”
“Undercover?” Rylan edged closer. “Undercover as what? You gonna pretend to be a member of Cassius’s MC?”
“No, I’m going to pretend to be Dr. Marlowe’s husband. Pretend to be hopelessly and completely in love with her.”
She wasn’t the only one to have her jaw hit the ground. The whole group was stunned.
“Any other questions?” Gray drawled.
Everyone shouted at once.
“Too fucking bad,” Gray returned. “See you at 0600.” His fingers curled around Emerson’s elbow. “Now I have to go brief my wife.”
Chapter Seven
“Pretending isn’t hard. Hell, I pretend every single day of my life. Pretend to be normal. Pretend to fit in. Pretend to care. Not like this is my first undercover assignment. I can pretend in my sleep.” – Gray Stone
“I’m sorry about your coat.”Emerson stood inside of her rental. An upscale condo in Atlanta’s Art District. Moments ago, she’d disarmed her alarm. She shrugged out of the suit coat and extended it toward Gray. She grimaced as she noticed the dark stains on the back of the coat. “You know what?” Emerson snatched the coat back before he could take it from her. “I’ll get it dry cleaned.”
