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Beside him, Ollie had his phone angled at us, and a shit-eating grin on his face that made me think of Axel. Like these three idiots just fucked around and were about to find out. The men faltered, scrambling to remember why they’d accosted me in the first place and lifted their cameras. The curl on Greyson’s lip had them staggering back a step. All but the first, who snapped a photo.
Greyson charged at him. It wasn’t like a bull or like the idiots in movies. No, these were slow, calculated steps, somehow made predatory, though his hands casually slipped into his pockets. There was an ease to his movements as he prowled toward us, his smile breaking free the moment the idiot stepped past the gate. Four members of his security team were hustling down the driveway.
“You know,” he drawled, smirking now that he had the man on his property.Smart. “I keep thinking the press can’t grow less intelligent, and yet, here you are, proving me wrong.”
Attempting to regain control of the situation, the first blurted, “Greyson, what do you have to say about the recent allegations you’re stealing from your shareholders?”
“It’s Mr. Hart to you. And you’re being arrested for trespassing on private property, harassment, and assault,” he announced as that wolfish smile grew.
The man scoffed. “You can’t arrest me.”
“Citizen’s arrests are a perfectly normal occurrence,” Greysonsaid dismissively before motioning to the four looming men approaching. “These gentlemen will keep you company until the police show up. I assure you, they’re well on their way.”
“That wasn’t assault,” the man barked in disbelief. It was the first time Greyson’s gaze fell on me.
“Alice, darling, did this man touch you without consent?” Swallowing, I nodded. He didn’t change his tone as he asked, “Did you feel that this man was attempting to coerce or intimidate you by laying hands on you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. My hand absently rubbed the tension from my chest as I caught my breath. Pressure was building in my head like a thunderstorm brewing on the horizon. Greyson’s jaw visibly clenched as his gaze went razor sharp, turning to the man in question.
“This is bullshit,” the guy barked. It was about then that I noticed the police cruiser pulling up, which meant security had likely called them before Greyson even arrived.
“And did you, or did you not tell him to stop and leave you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
Victory curved his mouth as he turned back to the man now frantically surveying the trap he’d unwittingly set for himself. “You’ll be grateful the police handle this their way.” With a curl of his fingers, security came down to surround the man who’d grabbed me. For a moment, I thought he might swing, but then he thought better of it—whether it was the size of Greyson’s guys or Oliver still poised with a camera, I wasn’t sure. Greyson’s livid scowl turned on the other two. “I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a heads up. This gate,” he pointed up to the beautiful Hart House entryway, “is protected by copyright. If your stalker photographs ofmy wifeinclude her running by it, you’ll be sued for copyright infringement. If I were you, I’d turn over those memory cards.”
“You can’t be serious,” idiot number two blurted.
Greyshrugged as if it made no difference. “Find out for yourselves. But neither you nor your employers have a better attorney than my architect.” The gleam in his eyes told me he would be funding said attorney. He’d enjoy it, too. When he held out his hand, idiot three rushed to surrender his SD card. With a sigh, the second followed suit. “Good boys. I suggest you get off my property, but I am sending you a message for your posse of imbeciles. Mywifeis off-limits. Touch her again, and you won’t be pleased with the results. Understand?”
I thought they got the memo based on the speed with which they backed off the driveway. With security dealing with policeand the paparazzi running off with their tails between their legs, his attention turned to me. Greyson closed the gap in an instant, crushing me against him. Shock rendered me momentarily immobile, but in the next instant, I was hugging him back.
“I’m sorry, beautiful,” he murmured against my hair. “So sorry.”
“I’m okay,” I assured, though I wasn’t sure if it was more for him or me.
He pulled me back, refusing to let go as he looked me over before lifting my hand to examine my wrist. “Are you?” He asked, a livid tremor in his tone. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Bewildered by his concern, I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.” A quick internal inventory told me all was well. “Just…startled me. They haven’t been that aggressive with me.”
“You weren’t mine before.”
“No,” I agreed, swallowing hard. Hearing that possessive edge to his voice solicited an unwelcome rush of warmth through my body. Memories of that beachside kiss assaulted my brain as my eyes traced his parted mouth. “I wasn’t.”
“What were you doing out alone?” he asked, snapping me back into the moment.
“Clearing my head,” I supplied, nowirritated. Not even Greyson Hart would be telling me I couldn’t go out alone.
“I can’t protect you if you’re off the property,” he murmured breathlessly, hands raising to cradle my face, momentarily disarming me. “Not if you run off alone. The city isn’t safe for you, baby. Never really was, but especially not now.”
“Mr. Hart, a word?” With a shaved head and a day’s worth of scruff, an officer about Grey's height dipped his chin as he approached us. Looking more concerned than accusatory—which was a relief, to say the least—he glanced between us, giving me an apologetic grimace. “Are you okay, Mrs. Hart?”
Nodding shakily, I allowed Greyson to guide me over to the man as he plucked a pen from his front pocket.