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“Of course,” he says, indignant, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at me. He’s one of the only people who can do that.

“Then why have you brought a cop into my office?” I spit.

Stuart is unphased by my anger. He just looks over at Campos with a frown and plants his hands on his hips. “Aw, come on now. How did you know? I was gonna tell ye but I dinne think you’d figure it out this fast.” He looks almost amused.

“Please,” I scoff. “He screams cop.”

“He’sright here,” Campos says, gesturing to himself.

“Yes, well thank you for coming. You can leave.” I open my laptop in front of me and start working through some emails although I’m not concentrating on anything on the screen as I can feel hot brown eyes on me. Campos doesn’t move.

“Now will ye just give the man a chance? At least do the interview,” Stuart pleads.

“This is a waste of time, I don’t need another detail,” I complain, sounding more like a stropping teenager than a twenty-eight-year-old woman.

Stuart softens, gripping the back of the vacant chair next to Campos. “You said I should step back, Anni.”

Guilt grips my heart and I swallow, schooling my features. “You should. But I don’t need a replacement. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” This is a fruitless argument, we both know it, but I try regardless.

“Yes. You do. You appointed me your head of security and I couldn’t, in good conscience, leave you unprotected while I am engaged elsewhere.”

I just glare at him, my face a mask of aggravation to hide the swell of appreciation I have for my long-serving bodyguard and the closest thing I have to a friend. I turn my attention back to Javier Campos who has been watching our exchange with muted interest. He looks calm and cool with his arms casually restingalong the arms of the chairs. His knees are as far apart as they can go in an impressive display of man-spreading and I kind of want to punch him. Or sit on his face.Where did that come from?

“It doesn’t have to be this guy,” Stuart continues, gesturing to Campos but speaking about him like he’s not here. Campos sits a little straighter, a flash of worry crossing his face at Stuart’s statement. “I’ve found several suitable applicants. But you must choose, Anni. I’m putting my foot down.”

I fight a smile. “Oh,you’reputtingyourfoot down? You’re in charge now?”

“Of your protection, I am.” That annoying smirk has me grousing.

“Fine,” I concede with a sigh. “Why the cop?”

Stuart flicks a manilla folder down on the desk in front of me. “Take a look at his record, he seems to have the same disregard for law enforcement as you do.”

I open the folder, keeping my eyes down. In my periphery I can see the slight tense of the man’s muscles, he didn’t like that. I flick through the folder, not really reading much, but note that he had several black marks against him, and he was fired. I huff, throwing the folder back down and crossing my arms under my breasts, looking over to the ex-detective with my steeliest glare.

“I don’t like cops.”

Annoyingly, he smiles. It’s bright and wide and makes his already ridiculously handsome face even more ridiculously handsome and my throat goes dry. “Really? Because I was getting some really good vibes from this meeting.”

I narrow my glare.

“I guess it’s luck I’m no longer a cop then,” he says, more seriously.

“And I’m supposed to believe that someone as dedicated as you for so many years, suddenly wants to come and work for me?To turn a blind eye and do what needs to be done when the time calls for it?”

He leans forward, resting his attractive forearms on his thick denim clad thighs. “What makes you think I was so dedicated?” There’s a slight accent there, I would put it as Hispanic, but I couldn’t be sure.

I gesture to his inner arm, his gaze pulls from me to look down at the ink on his skin depicting a set of handcuffs. “You’d have to be pretty dedicated to have tools of the trade permanently stamped on your body.”

His grin turns wicked, looking back up to me under hooded lids and heavy lashes. I swear my heart stops beating for a moment. My mouth opens slightly and I intake a sharp breath, needing all the oxygen that look has stolen from me. “Cuffs are apersonalfavourite of mine, not a professional reference.”

“Oh,” I breathe. Shit, Annika, get your head back in the game, stop leering.

“I can show you if you like,” he purrs, and I feel a tugging in my lower belly. Before I can find an appropriate reaction, Stuart steps forward.

“You’ll keep it respectful, newbie.” His tone brooks no argument. Campos doesn’t say anything else, but the way he’s looking at me with a smug grin seems to say that he knows his words have soaked my underwear.

“Is Stuart right? Do you disregard law enforcement,DetectiveCampos?” I clench my jaw and straighten my spine in an attempt to resume control of this conversation.