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A idan thanked the policeman as he left the hotel suite, and glanced with concern at Emma. She sat on the sofa, toying with her necklace, and stared blankly at the gas fireplace in the wall.

“His parole officer promised me he’d call if Ben was up for early release,” Emma said to no one in particular. “He promised. Swore it, even.”

Aidan silently sat down in the armchair directly across from her and steepled his hands against his chin.

“Because Ben had made direct threats against my life,” she added, her eyes rooted to the flames as they danced. “I guess I didn’t think he’d try to ruin me first. If he had the power to take all my money, why didn’t he just do that and disappear? Why does he have to come after me like this?”

“Some men—and I hesitate to use that label in association with your ex—enjoy the feeling of power.”

Her eyes swung to Aidan’s. “He wasn’t like this when we were together.”

Aidan didn’t respond.

She continued, her voice hollow. “I’ve lost everything. First he took my money, then he ended my career.” She met Aidan’s eyes, her own haunted. “And now he’s taken my safety.”

Aidan’s chest constricted. “He has not, Emmaline. Not if you don’t allow it.”

She laughed incredulously. “Allow it? All I want is to be free of him. But there’s no escape.

I think he proved that rather effectively, don’t you?

” She jerked her head toward the door where the policeman had exited.

“I don’t even have a place to live right now.

I don’t know where he is, or what his next move will be.

Don’t you see?” She choked on a sob. “He holds all the cards!”

Aidan hated the stark desolation in her voice. The woman was twisting him in knots, and despite having known her for less than a day, his gut told him she needed protection—but that she wouldn’t readily accept it.

What disturbed him more than having gut feelings about a woman was that he had a deep and primitive need to be the one to protect her.

“He doesn’t hold all the cards,” Aidan replied carefully. “I still need you. Tonight.”

The blatant sensuality in his words jolted Emma from her dark place. She blinked, then realized Aidan was talking about the auction.

“I don’t think I’m the right person for this,” she faltered.

Her brain was on overload—was it really only this morning that her boss had fired her?

And then her apartment…it was a strange kind of relief that Aidan had been with her when she’d discovered it.

He took charge, giving her the space she needed to process the events—without being asked.

He ensured her safety, filed the police reports, and made her eat something.

It was a nice feeling to be mother-henned over .

But that couldn’t last. The thought of cleaning up her apartment exhausted her, and angered her—which gave her enough of a reality check to acknowledge that she couldn’t rely on this man’s hospitality, no matter how freely it was offered.

She’d done that once before, and look where that had landed her.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Aidan offered. “New contract. Same terms as before, but you get the commission—not the firm. You go to the auction and obtain the relics with me. Then, you stay here until I can have your apartment cleaned up. And change your locks,” he added darkly.

“Definitely change your locks…maybe add a couple more.”

“My world is a mess right now,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then join me in mine for a while,” he replied softly.

Emma wasn’t sure why he was so insistent on helping her. Before she could work out another way to refuse his offer, he held up a single finger. He rose from the chair, then reached for his leather satchel. He carefully withdrew a dagger and presented it to her, hilt first.

Her breath caught, and her face lightened. “Oh…this is a medieval dirk! A real one—look at all the nicks on the blade!” She reverentially ran her fingertips over the highly decorative hilt. “It’s so beautiful…” She stood and when she handed it back to him, her fingers grazed his hand.

The electricity nearly knocked her over.

With one hand, Aidan gently took the blade from her loose fingers, and with his other hand he very gently cupped her chin and raised her head until her gaze collided with his.

He studied her for a moment, then directed his attention to her lips, looking very much as though he wanted to kiss her.

She watched, breathless, as he moved a fraction of an inch closer, and his eyes traveled back up her face.

He blinked slowly, as though hesitant to miss a second of the moment, and Emma’s heart beat loudly in her chest. Her lips parted, and she involuntarily licked them, drawing his eyes back down. Her breath hitched.

A sudden bolt of nerves jolted through her, and she stepped back quickly, nearly knocking a lamp off the side table next to her.

Embarrassed, she tried to shake off the haze of desire as she stepped out of his reach.

He didn’t move. “I’ll teach you how to use it. Consider it a fringe benefit of working for me.”

Emma quickly scooted farther away from Aidan. “Mr. MacWilliam, not to be rude, but…trust me when I say that you don’t want any part of this. My life is in shambles at the moment.” She stood quickly, searching for her purse and coat. “I have to be going. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

Aidan closed the distance between them and placed the blade on the table next to the lamp. “Where will you go?”

Emma spied her purse on one of the chairs in the elaborate dining room and attempted to walk over to it casually. She had a sinking suspicion she may have lunged, but she needed to get out of there. “Oh, I’ll be fine.” No, I won’t. “I have some friends I can stay with.” No, I don’t.

She was going to end up on a bench in Central Park. Out in the open, where Ben can find me and finish the job.

She tried to swallow her fear. The police officer had assured her that once they determined it was in fact her ex who broke into the apartment, her restraining order would be approved quickly. Most likely Monday morning, even. That just meant she had to stay alive until then, of course.

“Emma.” His use of her nickname stopped her. “You’re safe with me.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. MacWilliam.”

He held up both his hands. “Please. Stay. I’m leaving right after the auction to go to Boston. The hotel room is yours as long as you need it—a month? Two months? It’s under my name, and no one knows where you are right now. ”

Emma snorted. The only person she could trust was herself—she knew better than to accept what he was proposing. Aidan’s offer surely had strings attached, and she couldn’t afford to be his marionette.

“Thank you for the offer. Truly, I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.

” She had to leave immediately, and the overwhelming urge to accept his aid was frightening her.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson the last time she’d blindly trusted someone?

“I’m afraid I’m not the right person for your job, Mr. MacWilliam.

” The suddenly stuffy air choked her, and she swept into the dining room, anxious to leave.

She nodded stiffly to Cian, then ran out the door.

Cian let out a low whistle. “Well, ye blew that one good an’ proper, my laird.”

Aidan glared at him. “We can’t let her go without protection. MacDermott is out for blood. That woman is in trouble,” Aidan growled as he headed toward the door. “Why is it always MacDermotts?”

Cian growled. “Turns out they’re rotters no matter the century, eh?”

By the time Aidan reached the elevators, Emma’s had already left. He hurried into the second elevator, dragging his hands through his hair. If she got to the street before he made it downstairs, he might never find her again. His stomach did an inexplicable flip at the thought.

He pushed all thoughts aside when the doors opened onto the lobby. As he strode toward the front desk, intent on asking the concierge which way Emma had gone, he saw her hurrying down the front steps.

He darted after her, weaving between well-dressed couples and tourists alike.

He slid to a stop in front of the glass double doors, yanked one open before the doorman knew he was there, and dashed onto the steps.

Emma disappeared around the corner of the building, and Aidan’s rising panic pushed him into a run.

He had no doubts that Ben MacDermott would continue to terrorize Emma. He’d known his fair share of men just like him—men who had nothing to lose, so they derived what power they could by using violence and fear.

His father, rot his soul, was proof of that.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Aidan went on full alert. His instincts never proved him wrong, and right now they were screaming.

“Emma!” he called, alarm in his voice. She was walking fast, but he ran after her, dodging pedestrians and skateboarders. “Emma, wait!”

She spun around and glared at him. “What?” Immediately, she held up her hands. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m trying not to lose it,” she whispered. “But—”

Aidan saw the gun pointed at her, and he didn’t think.

He lunged at her, cutting her off mid-sentence, and glass shattered around them into a million pieces.

He covered her body with his, cradling her head in his hands, and protected her from both the falling shards and the chaos that erupted around them.

People ran and screamed, nearly trampling them in their desperate bid to get away.

Almost immediately, sirens sounded and horns blared, but through it all, Aidan remained wrapped around her, a protective cocoon, ensuring nothing touched her.

If he wanted to, he would have killed her . The man had taken careful aim, and there should’ve been no time for Aidan to knock Emma out of the way. Aidan understood the intent behind the bullet…it was a warning shot.

Emma was in far more danger than he initially realized.