Page 1 of Protecting You

CHAPTERONE

Alyssa Wright’s client had insisted they meet here.

She’d never been to this restaurant. White tablecloths, sparkling silverware, fine china. The servers all wore crisp button-downs, black slacks, and black aprons. They displayed overpriced bottles of wine with the pride of new parents showing off a treasured child.

Classical music played over hidden speakers, the hush of private conversations interspersed by the clinking of glasses, the tinging of forks and knives on plates, and the occasional pop of a cork.

Despite the complete background check she’d done on her client, the man the maître d’ sent her way wasn’t what she’d expected. Alyssa had worked for Charles Sanders for months, and she’d formed an opinion of him based on their frequent phone conversations. She knew he’d attended Oxford. His aristocratic British accent confirmed what she’d learned about his wealthy parents. He was the kind of guy who never had to rent a tuxedo because he had one hanging in his closet, Armani labels intact.

She knew the type.

Wearing a perfectly tailored navy sports coat over a pale blue shirt, he was slight and unassuming with swarthy skin, black hair, and thick eyebrows. His cheeks were clean-shaven, though his soft jaw would look manlier with a little scruff. He was no taller than her own five nine.

Her client skirted the nearest table, and she stood to greet him. “Charles?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.” His palm was cool, his voice smooth as silk.

She gestured to the chair opposite hers, and he settled and eyed the menus and water glasses between them.

“Help yourself.” She slid her palm around her glass so he’d know which one she’d already sipped from.

A college-aged waitress approached, giving Charles a warm look that had Alyssa studying him more closely.

Though his features were bland and unassuming, there was something attractive about him she couldn’t put her finger on. No,attractivewasn’t the word. Inviting, maybe? Charming?

“May I get you a drink, sir?” the server asked.

Charles nodded to Alyssa, who said, “Water’s fine for me.”

“Surely, you’d like something stronger.” He held her gaze as if he could convince her through telepathy. “Their wine list is quite extensive.”

He hadn’t looked at it, which meant he’d been here before. His earnest look made her consider ordering a glass.

For about one second.

She didn’t drink alcohol often, and certainly not at business meetings with practical strangers. “I’m happy with water. Thank you.”

Charles studied her a moment too long before ordering a glass of Sangiovese.

There was something about the way he watched her, as if he could read her thoughts. Their relationship had always been cordial on the phone, but in person, the man made her skin crawl.

He handed the server their menus. “And an appetizer or two, whatever’s popular, but nothing with salsa.” He gave a false shudder as if the idea of it horrified him.

Was his arrogance supposed to impress somebody?

Alyssa had perused the menu earlier. “I’d like to try the heirloom tomatoes and burrata. And bring something with lobster for our English friend. That’ll be all.” She turned to Charles. “If that’s all right with you?”

His lips quirked at the corners as if he found her amusing. “Whatever you think.”

He seemed accustomed to getting what he wanted, but nobody’d ever accused Alyssa of being accommodating.

However, he was her best-paying client, and she needed the money. Ever since she’d left her government job to start her own cyber-investigation company, she’d struggled to get enough work—and enough income—to justify her decision. One customer had refused to pay a bill, and she’d had a couple of lean months. If not for Charles’s regular assignments, she might as well tear down her metaphorical shingle and get a real job.

And then what?

If the business failed, would she need to vacate the apartment her father paid for? Would she be forced to go home to her parents’ house—and endure her father’s I-told-you-so’s?

Anything but that.

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