Page 42 of When He Fights (Protector & Defender #3)

Emerson had seen Ana leave Grayson’s temporary office. The other woman had practically flown out of there. Ana had looked happy. And intent.

Emerson knocked lightly on the now closed door. Grayson had been chillingly polite to her ever since Logan Catalano’s death. They really needed to talk. To break the ice between them. Especially if they were going to be working together in the future. Which we are.

“Come in,” Grayson called in response to her knock.

Sucking in a breath and schooling her features, Emerson opened the door. She put a bright smile on her face. “Good news,” she started, determined to be positive, “I’ve gotten the approval to work with?—”

“Shut the door. Then come closer.” He sat behind his desk. He had put on a pair of glasses. She hadn’t realized he wore glasses. They made Grayson look extra sexy, dammit. As if he’d needed any extra help. But the glasses gave Grayson a whole smart and gorgeous vibe that really worked for him.

Who am I kidding? Everything works for Grayson.

She shut the door. Her heels tapped on the floor as she advanced.

“How’s the bruising on your back?” Grayson asked as he studied her.

“Gone.” It was. The bruising from the bullet had long since faded. “How’s your, ah, wrist?”

He sported a cast now, one that he sent a glare toward. “Broken. In multiple places.”

Obviously, he was not happy with that situation. “A broken wrist is better than being dead.” She didn’t actually remember him thanking her for that life-saving moment, either.

His glare turned toward her. “Speaking of being dead…you realize, of course, that Logan could have killed you.”

So they were going to talk about this, huh? Jump right to it? Fair enough. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest. If he’d wanted me dead, he would have just shot me in the head. Logan had the opportunity. The man is—was—an excellent shot.”

Grayson rose from his chair. His hands flattened on the top of the desk. “You think telling me that Logan could have shot you in the head…you believe that’s a good idea right now?”

She could not read his mood. Sure, he was pissed. But there was more at play. Emotions that went way deeper. “I’ve upset you.”

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

She had to bluff her way out of this situation. “Well, too bad.” She tapped her way to the edge of his desk. She should probably invest in some shoes that were less noisy. Unfortunately, she loved heels. “Because I’ve been told that I’ll be your new partner for the foreseeable future.”

“No fucking way.”

That response was hardly encouraging.

“Has dear mom been pulling strings?” he taunted. “Got the senator to force you into the FBI?”

She wasn’t going to take his very obvious bait. “I think I proved that I was willing to risk my life in order to help someone. I take this job seriously.”

“You’re not a Fed, Emerson.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You have zero field experience with the Bureau.”

Not true. She’d been in the field when she got shot in the back.

“You don’t know how to handle yourself in dangerous situations.” His eyes scorched her.

“Right. I don’t.” His hands were on the top of the desk. She put hers right next to his. Not touching. But so very close. “And that’s why I have you, partner.”

Behind the lenses of those glasses, Grayson blinked.

“You’re going to train me to handle dangerous situations. And I’m going to help you profile killers.”

“I know how to profile killers.”

“Then with my help, you should be able to take down twice as many of them. Win, win.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth as she said, Win, win. He shook his head. And then he responded, “Fuck. Fuck. ”

Obviously, they would have a glorious partnership. She extended her hand toward him.

He did not take it.

Emerson sighed. “You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?” Her fingers wiggled.

“You have no idea.”

THE END