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She gives a self-confident smirk and arches a practiced brow. “Paul Badcock is in tonight and he’s requested a private dance, I’m just keeping him waiting. Adds to the excitement.”

“Badcock?” Harvey questions with surprised eyes.

“Yeah, unfortunate really,” she sighs. “Because from what I’ve felt, it’s not too bad, maybe like a seven out of ten.” She tilts her head as though contemplating her score.

Harvey snorts. “Maybe you should make your rating public so other women know that the name isn’t anything to go on.”

“I’d be doing the public a service really.” She nods seriously.

Feeling more and more uneasy around their easy back and forth, I hold my hand up to stop it. “Candy, go and fulfil your commitments. Harvey, I’m not paying you to laze around and flirt with my staff.”

Harvey’s brows shoot up and Candy’s cheeks flush. “Oh, we weren’t—”

“Go,” I command, and she scurries off.

“Wake up on the wrong side of your ice palace this morning,rainha?” he drawls, standing straight and letting his arms drop for his hands to rest on his narrow hips.

Rage ignites in my belly, and I want to punch him, yell at him, something. I just don’t fully understand why. Before I can come up with a quick retort, a crashing sound come from the club, followed by a few screams and more shuffling. Harvey is instantly on high alert, putting his arm out to hold me back while he listens for a moment, but my anger stops me from thinking too rationally and I bat him away, heading for the main floor.

“Annika,” he shouts behind me, but I plough on.

Through the curtain, out onto the main entertainment area, two idiots in suits are throwing punches at each other. A table of overturned, broken glass littering the floor. A group of people circle them watching on in morbid fascination while one of my dancers cups her hand over her mouth is shock. Harvey is at my back and growls his annoyance at me.

“Stay here,” he barks, but I’m in no mood for him, so I walk over to the fight, stepping right into the centre.

“Enough,” I bellow.

Both men stop, swaying on their feet as they recover from their fight and most likely the booze swirling in their systems. “He was touchingmygirl!” one of them screeches, gesturing to the dancer with her face still in her hands.

I look to her, unimpressed. “You brought a boyfriend to my club?”

She shakes her head furiously and gives me wide eyes that say,this guy is serious cuckoo. I roll my eyes, men are pathetic.

“She’s not your girl, arsehole,” the other one with a bloody nose spits.

The first guy launches himself towards the second, but I’m between them. Before I’m flattened, I’m pulled back by a steel-like arm coming over my shoulder and crossing my chest. Bouncers are on the two suits, pulling them apart and dragging them to the exit while I’m taken back to the corridor where I’m released. Without looking back, I stomp back to my office, indignant and still reeling for a fight.

Harvey slams my office door behind us, and I whip my head around to glare at him. If eyes could hold murder within them, Harvey’s are full of it.

“What the fuck was that?” he growls.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you to stay back.”

“And I do not take orders from you,detective,” I sneer, squaring up to him. In my Valentino stilettos, I’m pretty much as tall as him and can meet his ferocity with my own.

“You hired me to protect you. How am I meant to do that when you refuse to protect yourself?” he shouts.

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not some damsel in need of sheltering. I’ve stepped on men far bigger and uglier than you to get where I am today and I can handle myself against a couple of drunks,” I seethe through gritted teeth.

He grabs my upper arms, pinning them to my sides and gripping with bruising force, the movement jolting my body and startling me enough that my eyes blow out wide in shock. “You,” he hisses, moving me backward as he advances forward. “You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met. Pig-headed, stubborn, wilful pain in my arse.”

“Three out of four of those insults mean the same thing,detective. You could at least be a little creative.” My back hits the wall and I grunt slightly on impact. He’s still holding me and stands in my personal space, it’s like when we were in the children’s section of Brunel’s, but instead of a soft calmness that came with that contact, there’s now a pulsing energy making my heart hammer.

It strikes me in this moment that I’m not scared or even concerned that this man pinning me to the wall and using his strength against me will hurt me. I may not completely trust Harvey Campos, but I don’t fear him either. The hand on my left arm moves to slide along my shoulder and rest on the side on my neck, his thumb lightly tracing my jawline. He watches where his touch skims over my skin and rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard like the pressure will stop him from doing something more.

“When we are together,” he speaks softer now. “I’m in charge of your safety,rainha. That means you do as you’re goddamntold.” He squeezes my neck slightly, the pressure making my breathing hard and fast. “I should punish you for disobeying me.”