Page 6 of Protection (Mobsters + Billionaires 2)
“Addiction.”
“It must be,” he grunts over my head, “if you keep going even though he's following you there.”
“Shut up,” I snark, twisting to look behind me.
He raises his brows while looking down at me, and…mmph.
“And I take it the threatening emails have continued as well?”
I gesture with a fluttering hand. “Yeah, but…Ryder still can’t find any connections between those and the stalking.”
Ryder is my twenty-something Chief Technical Officer and resident badass-slash-IT guru. She might actually be a real-life hacker and, not gonna lie, I’m about a hundred percent certain she’s Anonymous.
In Anonymous?
Part of their collective?
What is the proper way to say that I find her fascinating and terrifying?
“Okay, no connections to the stalking, but you’re still being threatened via email in addition to the stalking.”
Stop finding his concern so sexy.
“Come on. Those threatening emails are like a toothless dog’s bark. And besides, the esteemed authors of those emails almost always regret sending them.”
Edgerton’s eyebrows shoot up, and the sharp angle of his jaw demands an answer. I roll my eyes. “Ryder traces most emails back to their point of origin, and then she…takes care of it.”
I leave off the fact that I stay on her good side by feeding her bad actors and then not asking follow-up questions.
“And by takes care of it, I assume you mean she hands over the information to the proper authorities.”
I suck in my lips and play with my jacket zipper. He raises a single brow this time, which is far more effective than simply prodding me to answer. Yeah, he definitely takes charge in the bedroom.
Okay, fine. “In some cases? Maybe?”
“Wait. What about your stalker? Surely, you’ve contacted the authorities on him?”
I snort. “Hell no. He hasn’t approached me. He hasn’t even threatened me, it seems. What are the cops going to do?” I look up and find his head bent over his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. “What are you doing?”
He huffs a derisive laugh and continues typing. “Okay, it’s settled. I'll have Andrew Normandy on you starting tomorrow morning. He’s my right-hand guy, and I trust him with your life.”
“Oh yay.”
Ignoring my snark, he continues, “And we’ll figure out a regular bodyguard rotation over the next couple of days. I can’t believe you don’t have one-on-one protection. Who’s been handling your security?” he asks, stopping to stare down at me. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
I lean back, not hating the view. “Dickenson Something-or-other. And I refused bodyguards with them, just like I’m refusing them with you.”
He coughs and keeps typing. “We’ll secure your residence and office, and then we need to look at your schedule.”
“Why?”
“It needs a massive overhaul. And there will absolutely be no more subway rides.”
What the fuck? He’s still pacing behind me, so I push out from the table, knocking into him. I stop him in his path and look up—way up—at him, pushing my finger into his—holy hotness—firm chest.
“First of all, the only time I let a man tell me what to do, Mr. Edgerton, is when he and I are in bed together.”
He bats away my finger and starts typing again. “That reminds me. We’re going to need to vet your rotation, or whatever it is you have. We need them to agree to background checks. And NDAs. Though, surely, you’ve already got that covered.”
