Page 38 of My Grumpy Billionaire Protector

What the fuck? It’s not your fault she’s in this mess, and it’s not your job to protect her.

Except it’s already too late.

Being around Evie is hard, harder than I want to admit, and not because she goes out of her way to annoy me. Instead, it’s because of the knots in my stomach and the quickening of my pulse whenever I’m in her presence.

Goddamn it.

Of all the people to be attracted to, Evie Coombes is the worst.

I feel like some hormonal teenager who’s only just discovered women.

“It’s been years,” Evie whispers. “I doubt they’ll care.”

“You sure you want to take that chance, princess?”

“Don’t call me that,” Evie snaps, pausing to push her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t want any of it to happen.”

“I’m not a priest, so save your confession for someone else.” I straighten my back and give her a meaningful look. “Well?”

Evie blows out a breath and takes an involuntary step back. “Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“How do we get out of here?”

“I’ll let you know.”

With that, I take a few steps away and curl my hands into fists at my side. She sucks in a harsh breath before turning her back on me and facing the window. I study her profile, bathed in the soft incandescent lighting, and ignore the twinge in my chest.

I then spin on my heels and hurry out of the room and down the stairs. Outside Isaiah’s room, two guards are wearing identical bored expressions. Without waiting for a response, I push the door open and step into the dimly lit gray room.

I half expect them to tackle me to the ground and drag me away.

Felix is sitting across from Isaiah with his arms folded across his chest.

Isaiah glances up at me, and his expression gives nothing away. “Was there something you wanted?”

”We need to talk.”

“So talk.”

“Not with your lackey around.”

Isaiah leans back into his leather chair and gives Felix a small nod.

Wordlessly, Felix rises to his feet, and I catch a quick glimpse of his face on the way out. His clothes are rumpled, and his expression is haggard.

When he is gone, I turn to face Isaiah with a frown. “You can’t keep us here, Isaiah. You and I both know this isn’t the way to win over Governor Coombes.”

Isaiah links his fingers together. “I see you’ve had no problems making yourself comfortable in my house. I’ve been more than generous.”

I walk over to Isaiah and pull out the chair opposite his desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the flames leap and dance, casting long shadows across the wall. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks, and the sound of laughter rises and falls before plunging us into silence.

“Were you planning on telling me that we’re the reason Evie Coombes’ name was kept out of the press the night of her accident?”

Isaiah raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Of course, it’s relevant.” I toss the extra copy of the brown file onto the desk and push it toward him. “And you weren’t able to kill the story everywhere.”

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