Page 91 of When He Defends

Angel took the cash and got his ass out right then and there. The door closed behind him. But Gray reached over and flipped the lock to make the room extra secure.

The music kept playing. The water gurgled in the fountain.

“Checked his date book and his computer files,” Gray told her.

Yes, that had been his job. While she distracted Angel, Gray had been doing a search.

“He did have an appointment with River.”

They’d known that, thanks to River’s social media posts about the “Divine Angel” session.

“But I don’t think he ever saw Kim. The spa records are extremely thorough. I searched the database via his system, butKim wasn’t listed as a client at the spa. Neither was our first suspected vic, Wendy Prichard.”

“He told me that he didn’t remember River.” Could have been a lie, of course. “And there is a chance that the records were altered.”

“Yeah, but River’s appointment was still listed in the system. Why leave her but take out Kim and Wendy?”

Good question.

Emerson exhaled. “Your timing was perfect.”

“Tell me about it.” His teeth snapped together.

“We were at the disrobing portion of the event.”

“That was never supposed to happen.” Real jealousy seemed to vibrate in his voice.

Emerson frowned. “Gray, it’s a massage. Those happen every day, and they are one hundred percent normal, non-sexual events.”

He began stalking toward her.

“I get that you’re playing the jealous husband—the way-over-the-top, jealous husband—and Angel is now talking about you with the other staff members just like we planned. Everyone will think you are crazy when it comes to me.”

He stopped in front of her. “I am crazy when it comes to you.”

She swallowed. “That’s the act.”

“You’ve got to be a bit disheveled when we leave. I asked for the room and, with us in here alone, Angel and anyone else close by will think I wanted a place to fuck my new bride.”

Her eyes widened. Fucking at the spa hadnotbeen on the agenda. “I…don’t believe people will think that’s what we’re doing. Having sex, I mean.”

“I’m fucking jealous.” His hands curled around her waist. He lifted her up on the table. Her skirt fluttered around her legs. Yes, she had on another billowing skirt. What else did you bringto an island paradise? She wore a skirt, while Gray wore khakis and an unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His semi-casual look.

“Don’t want some male-model-slash-bodybuilder rubbing his hands all over you.” He actuallysoundedjealous. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship. Did they?

His hands moved from her waist. Slid under her skirt. Pushed the gauzy material up until he hooked his fingers around her panties.

“Gray.” Her hands flew down. She slapped them on top of his. Her breath choked out. “There’slookingdisheveled and actually…” Her voice trailed away.

“Fucking?” Gray finished for her.

She nodded. Yes, yes, there was a difference between the two things.

“Don’t worry. We won’t fuck. But I am damn jealous.” His words were gritted, and she realized…

Wow. “You aren’t acting?”

A negative shake of his head. “No one else’s hands get put on you, Emerson.”