Page 37 of Protection (Mobsters + Billionaires 2)
“Anthony…do you wear Eternity?”
Heat flashes across my cheeks. “Yes.”
I still can’t see the lower half of his face, buried as it is in the scarf, but I can tell he’s amused because his eyes are little crescents. He takes another deep inhale.
“I forgot how much I love this cologne.”
I lift a shoulder, forcing a cool demeanor. “What can I say? I like the classics.”
“Oh! That reminds me. I bought you these from Reyes while you weren’t looking,” he says, handing me a pair of Ray-Bans.
Biting back a smile, I pop them on. “I have an old, scratched-up version of these at home.”
His eyes scan me. “Yeah, I can see it. There’s nothing like a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses. Cool. Unruffled. Timeless. Just like you.”
“Are you calling me old?”
He smacks my arm, and one of the drug-sniffing dogs gives a little woof. Mads pops his head out of his little scarf nest and grimaces at the guard. “Sorry.”
I stifle a chuckle, but not too well, and he glares up at me before dipping back into his private scarf world.
After another deep inhale, he answers, “No. I was not calling you old. I was saying I like your style. And I like the way you smell.”
I like the way you smell too, Mads.
Before I can respond, an agent of some kind, taller and broader than me, approaches. He glances at Mads, then squares up to me.
He’s distractingly handsome, and his crisp Austrian accent probably lowers more inhibitions than not. “I see you own a security company, Mr. Edgerton. Have you brought any weapons or defensive tools with you?”
I give him a hopefully reassuring smile. “Only my bare hands.”
Looking down his nose, he asks, “Is that a threat?”
For fuck’s sake. I need to get Mads to the hotel in time for his meeting, and this Mary is gumming up the works.
Fine. Let’s see what this suit can do.
“No,” I reply, pushing my new sunglasses to the top of my head, letting my eyes appreciate his broad shoulders.
He clears his throat, though I can’t imagine he’s unacquainted with flirtation.
“No guns, knives, pepper spray, brass knuckles?”
I wink, quick enough to make him doubt what he saw. “No, sir.”
His shoulders rise and fall, and he steps back, working his jaw. “Thank you. You may go.”
I smile and dip my chin, then wrap my arm around Mads’ waist and guide him back into the car.
Mads looks back and forth between me and the checkpoint as we pull away. “You gonna tell me what that was all about?”
I allow myself a tiny smile but keep my eyes on the road. “We’d been there thirty minutes, and they had all the information they needed. They were hemming us up to hem us up.”
“That’s what they do.”
“Yes, but you need to rest. So I flirted a little. Let him know I’d clocked him.”
“Clocked him…oh. That slab of beef back there was gay?” he asks, looking back to the checkpoint as if he’ll find answers.
