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“I wanted to go home before the teleport. It makes me uncomfortable to pop in and out from public locations. Big Brother is always watching.”

Trevor nodded. She definitely had a point. His younger brother was FBI. “What’s this guy’s name, anyway?”

Pausing on the pathway, she cast him an irritated look and said, “I’m sure I told you.”

“No, babe, you didn’t.”

She frowned her confusion. “I’m almost certain…” She gave an airy wave. “No matter. His name is Gene Stockton, and he’s?—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”Trev knew he was shouting, but he wanted to wring her freaking neck for putting herself in imminent danger.

“Stop yelling at me, Mr. Blane,” she ordered coldly.

“Trevor,” he corrected absently. He inhaled and exhaled to get his fear-for-her-induced anger under control. “Do you know who Stockton is? Did you do your homework before blindly traipsing halfway across the world for a fucking flower? We’ve got to?—”

“Ah, Mr. Blane,” came the silky smooth, albeit menacing, voice of Gene Stockton from behind them. “I don’t believe you were invited to this meeting, and I’ll ask that you kindly stop yelling at my lovely guest.”

The sound of gunstocks hitting shoulders was loud in the sudden silence.

He’d been so wrapped up in Soleil, Trev failed to hear them approach, thereby missing the danger. He never missed the danger.

Never.

Every swear word he knew bombarded his brain, and it took all his willpower not to vocalize them. Soleil’s wince indicated she was privy to those black thoughts. Good! Maybe, if they survived this encounter, she’d be cautious in the future.

Gene Stockton was little better than a mob boss. One Trevor’s father had royally screwed over in the past. Had he knownhewas the man Soleil was supposed to meet, Trev would’ve put a stop to it. Now, he had to find a way to extract them without anyone getting shot.

“Let me handle this,”Trev told her through their telepathic connection.

She ignored him, stepping forward with her hand outstretched.

“Mr. Stockton,” Soleil said warmly as she shook his hand.

So warmly, in fact, that Trevor studied her face for signs of… what? Affection? Interest? That she and Stockton were lovers? No. She’d used a formal address, and she wouldn’t have kissed Trevor like she had if she was involved with the other man. But he couldn’t deny their dark looks complimented each other. Stockton was average height and on the beefy side. But it was difficult to tell how much of that was muscle under the white button-up shirt and slacks he wore. Based on the way the seams strained the shoulders, Trevor was leaning more toward well-built since the man’s face was all chiseled angles.

“Ms. Stephens, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Stockton replied equally as pleasant.

If one ignored the two bodyguards with automatic rifles, their greeting could be mistaken for an everyday, run-of-the-mill social interaction between two plant enthusiasts. But one had only to look down the metal barrel of the nearest mercenary’s rifle to know this was no ordinary meeting.

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but I believe I asked you to come alone,” Stockton said, his tone decidedly cooler as he cast a side glance Trevor’s way.

“You did,” Soleil replied with an apologetic look. “But?—”

“But someone tried to run her down in front of a restaurant less than five minutes ago.” Trevor narrowed his eyes, portraying pure menace. “Care to tell us what you might know about that, Stockton?”

Surprise, followed closely by concern, chased across the other man’s too-handsome face, and Trev studied him carefully, searching for signs of feigned emotion. He could find none. The news of the near miss was a shock to Stockton.

Shit. That meant Soleil had a different enemy lurking on the sidelines.

“Did you tell anyone else you were coming here, Ms. Stephens?” Stockton asked with a troubled frown.

Before Trevor could stop her, she replied, “No.”

“Excellent. Then you won’t mind becoming my personal guests for a few days, until we can be sure you weren’t followed.”

Soleil blinked.

Trev swore savagely, not bothering to keep the words contained in his mind this time. Stockton grinned, and it transformed his handsome face to drop-dead gorgeous. Never had Trevor wanted to rearrange classically strong features so much as he did at that moment.