Page 6 of When He Defends

Emerson almost snorted at the denial. “Yes, you are. You’re in my space. You’re towering over me?—”

“Everyone towers over you.”

“They donot.I am an absolutely normal height for a woman.” She would have just liked to be taller, but she wasnormal.“You’re coming in here, with your shirt unbuttoned and looking all se—” Wow.Stop.Red light. Serious, red light. Flashing red. She had almost called him sexy.Out loud. To his face.Her eyes widened in quick shock before she whirled away from him.

Get it together.

One, two, three, four, five…she hurriedly took steps to put some distance between them.Six, seven, eight?—

The connecting door clicked closed behind her. “Looking all…what? Don’t think I caught that last descriptor,” Gray said. “Please, do not leave a man in suspense.”

She spun toward him. Glared.

“My shirt is unbuttoned—the top three buttons—because it’s been one long-ass day.” He rolled back his shoulders. “See, I was forced to take on this partner who hadzeroactual training.”

Her hands clenched at her sides. She worked hard to keep her control in place. Truly, she did. She’d worked hard to get along with Gray. But the man was about to push her too far. “I have some training.”

“You’re not an FBI agent.”

“I went to Quantico?—”

“For some bullshit special program that your senator mom created just for you. She pulled strings, she shoved you down the Bureau’s throat, and now you’re the unavoidable pain in my ass.”

Okay, that was the third time he’d called her a pain in the ass. Yes, she’d counted. Her teeth snapped together. “You’re not exactly sunshine and champagne.”

He blinked. A hint of a smile curved his lips. Only that smile—or whatcouldhave been a smile—immediately vanished. “You didn’t follow orders at the garage.”

The man loved orders. He issued them non-stop. “Were you a drill sergeant?”

He stared at her.

“I know you were a Marine. The way you love to bark orders makes me think you must have been a drill sergeant. You have that whole vibe about you.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The term is drill instructor. When you’re talking about Marines, they’re called drill instructors.” Flat. “Drill sergeants are in the Army.”

“Oh.” She had not known that.

“I was Marine, all the way. Semper Fi. A Marine, not a soldier. And, no, I was not a drill instructor. What I did is classified, and I don’t share that information.”

She blinked. “Not even with a partner?”

“I did notaskfor a partner.” His hand dropped back to his side. “Especially not one who nearly got herself killed this evening.”

Now she couldn’t help it, Emerson snorted.

He blinked. “What in the hell did you just do?”

Now she rolled her eyes. “I was in zero danger of dying. You had your gun on the perp the whole time.”

He took a slow, stalking step toward her. “Jake Waller had a screwdriver shoved beneath your chin.”

She didn’t need the unnecessary recap. “Yes, I know. I still have the mark to prove it.”

Something happened to him with those words. His gaze went flat. Hard. Brutally cold and even darker. “What?” he rasped.

Hadn’t he known that the tool had left a mark? “Not a big deal. Barely more than a scratch. It was photographed, and anEMT treated me while you were talking on the phone.” The brief treatment that had been completely unnecessary, by the way.

He advanced on her with a hard, angry stride. She held her ground, sucked in a breath, and waited to see what new insult he’d hurl her way.