SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL THEM. Clasping her hands in front of her to stop the tremors running through her, Sophie rolled the idea around in her head. It didn’t get any better the more she thought about it. Given his line of work, it made sense for Emerson to have enemies, but he seemed certain the shots were intended for her. With the break-in at the store and the attack at her apartment, it was hard to argue with him, but the idea that someone hated her enough to try to kill her sent a chill down her spine. She’d been cold since she got the breath knocked out of her when she hit the gravel. Even Emerson’s body covering her hadn’t warmed her. It had knocked the terror back to almost manageable, though, and made it possible for her to lay still without screaming.

She glanced over to where he stood, talking to the police. He’d stayed with her through the detective’s never-ending questions, shielding her from the stress the same way he’d shielded her body from the bullets. He hadn’t left her side until he made sure someone else was there to care for her. She must have looked shaky enough for them to call the paramedics. Thankfully, they’d settled for letting her sit in the back of the open ambulance instead of hauling her back to the hospital. She didn’t want to go back there, but she didn’t want to go home either. For the first time in her life, she was scared to be alone in her own apartment, and she hated it.

Emerson had been ready to die for her. He barely knew her, and he’d been willing to use his body as a shield to protect her. Most guys she’d known had a hard time committing to dinner a week into the future. Okay, that might be a bit melodramatic but not far from the truth. Which said a lot both about the men—boys really—she’d dated and the man standing across the parking lot sorting things out for her. Neither of which helped her with the most pressing problem facing her. What was she going to do when Emerson finished with the cops and decided it was time to hit the road? She couldn’t expect him to hang around. Not when he wasn’t getting anything out of the arrangement.

Even with the little bit of money she’d managed to squirrel away, there was no way in hell she could afford to pay him for his services. She didn’t know how much he charged, but she’d seen the way he’d handled himself when the bullets were flying. That kind of competence didn’t come cheap. He glanced over as if he sensed her watching him or maybe to make sure she was still there. Since he walked over to talk to the officers, he’d kept checking in every couple of minutes, just a glance and what she was pretty sure was his version of a reassuring smile. That’s the effect it had on her, anyway.

Gravel crunched as what felt like a fleet of black SUVs pulled into the parking lot. Adrenalin made her nerves fire to life and the officer talking to Emerson immediately shifted his stance, readying himself for an invasion. Emerson motioned toward the vehicles and the cop relaxed, but it did nothing for her nerves. Especially when a team of huge guys, each seemingly bigger than the previous one, dressed like Australian commandos and moving like the Rebel Alliance, piled out of the vehicles.

Emerson made a motion with his hand and one of the smaller guys—small being relative—peeled away from the group and headed straight for her. Not feeling its warmth, she pulled the blanket the paramedics had given her tighter around her and sat up, ready to bolt if it came to it. It was an irrational reaction, but at the moment, her body didn’t seem to care all that much about rationality.

There was something familiar, even reassuring about the man, and as he got closer, she realized he and Emerson must be related. Brothers maybe? That would make sense. It might be the only thing in the last forty-eight hours that did.

“You must be Sophie.” The man offered his hand, wrapping her fingers in his strong grip. He held them for a moment longer than was necessary for a polite greeting, and she wondered if her hands felt as cold to him as they did to her. “I’m Gabe Southerland.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Or it would be if it weren’t because of...” She waved a hand around her as her words trailed off. It was stupid. She was babbling; she’d never have met him if it wasn’t for the shooting.

He searched her gaze, and she put some extra effort into appearing normal. Or at least as normal as someone could look after being attacked twice in the same week. The last thing she wanted was for them to think she needed extra medical attention.

“Hang here for just a minute. Let me check in with my brother and make sure the officers don’t need you for anything and then we’ll get you upstairs and get you something to eat. Pizza okay?”

“God, yes,” she groaned, shocked to realize she was actually hungry.

It felt like hours since they’d eaten. Apparently, adrenaline burned calories. She gave a wistful thought to the takeout box of pancakes laying somewhere in the parking lot, probably crushed under one of the dozens of police cars and Southerland Security vehicles. Greasy cheesy pizza sounded better anyway.

“A woman after my own heart. Back in a minute.” Gabe gave her a playful grin, completely at odds with Emerson’s serious expression.

The similarities in their features made the differences more obvious. She’d bet Gabe had a lot more fun than his older brother. The thought made her curious and a little sad. She glanced in Emerson’s direction and found him giving instructions to his waiting men. Everything in his mannerism telegraphed he was clearly the one in charge. He glanced up as Gabe approached and then immediately shifted his gaze to her. She tried to smile and might actually have managed it, because the corner of his mouth curved in answer. Gabe said something and Emerson’s expression changed, a crease forming in the center of his forehead. She had a sudden, completely irrational urge to smooth the crease out with her finger.

Before she had time to wonder what caused the inconvenient crease and even more inconvenient feelings—on her part, at least—Emerson nodded. Gabe headed back in her direction, a smile lighting his face in a way that made it seem like he was crossing a bar instead of a crime scene.

“Come on, beautiful,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Let’s get you into your apartment and fed.”

She imagined he called every woman he ran into beautiful, but he had such a warm, easygoing manner, she couldn’t muster the energy to care. She headed for the stairs, with Gabe following right behind her. Her steps faltered as she neared the place where Emerson had pushed her to the ground and saw the yellow police tape.

“We’ll go in the front.” A strong hand took her by the elbow and led her away from the tape. She glanced up to see Emerson staring down at her, concern clear in his expression. She hadn’t heard him approach them, a testament to how badly the police tape shook her, but she exhaled in relief at the feel of his hand on her arm. She’d already developed a pretty strong codependent thing where he was concerned. It was going to make it even harder when she had to say good-bye.

“There might still be an officer upstairs, but they didn’t find any evidence of a break-in.” Emerson kept a hand on her elbow and the other on the small of her back.

She’d have prickled at the controlling way he led her to the front of her apartment building if his touch hadn’t felt so damn good—so reassuring. Gabe took the lead while she and Emerson climbed the short flight of steps to her apartment in tandem. There was barely room enough for the two of them in the stairwell, but she’d happily squeeze into tighter spaces to stay next to him. She’d never been dependent on a man—other than her brother—and not since she was an adult. The thought scared her, but not half as much as the attack had.

“Hey, Officer. We need to get into Sophie’s apartment.” Gabe greeted the uniformed cop standing outside the door to her apartment with the same kind of enthusiasm he might use for a guy sitting next to him at a ball game.

The cop wasn’t buying it. Instead of stepping to the side, he positioned himself squarely in the doorway.

“Not now, you aren’t. It’s an active crime scene.”

That couldn’t be right. Whoever tried to kill her—she wasn’t ever going to get used to that thought—shot at them outside her building. Her place couldn’t be a crime scene. Emerson asked her about letting the police into her apartment to check things out and she remembered nodding her approval. But it hadn’t felt real until that moment.

“Call Detective Westfield.” Emerson didn’t bother with a greeting or explanation. Unlike Gabe, there was nothing casual about his tone.

Reluctantly, the officer reached for the radio at his belt. He asked the question and a static-filled reply came back. She only managed to catch a few words—all clear and Southerland—but it must have been enough to convince him Emerson was telling the truth. He stepped out of the doorway, letting them pass before heading for the stairway.

Everything looked the same as it had when they’d left—could it have just been that morning? It felt like days ago.

“Are you okay?” Emerson asked as soon as they entered the apartment.

He waited for her answering nod before moving through the space, repeating the search the police had already done. It was overkill. If there had been anyone there; the cops would have found them, but there was something reassuring in knowing he wanted to be sure himself. It was one of the traits of being the older, more responsible brother.

Gabe didn’t bother following his brother’s lead. His gaze scanned her living room before landing on her TV and gaming system.

“What do you play? Tell me it’s something badass like Ghost Recon.”

“Sorry,” she said, meeting his grin. The man smiled all the damn time. She knew he had to be good at his job. Family or not, she couldn’t see Emerson making anyone who couldn’t pull their weight a part of his team. He was too competent for that. It was still hard to see the good-natured Gabe as anything other than harmless, which come to think of it, might be his super power. “I’m an Arrangement player.”

“Not that crazy steampunk thing with Tesla and the other dead scientists? Those are history lessons, not games. You’re breaking my heart.”

“You know an awful lot about it for someone who doesn’t play.” She stuck her hand on her hip and shot him a look of mock disapproval. Gabe teasing her took away some of the alien feeling of everything that had happened to her in the past two days. The world couldn’t be coming to an end if she could joke about it.

“Not me, him.” He jerked a thumb toward the hallway where Emerson had disappeared. “It’s the only non-work thing he does. His screen name is Eddington.”

Sophie barely managed to stifle her gasp. Either Gabe was too busy shuddering in mock horror to notice, or he assumed her reaction was to the name and not because she recognized it. Her screen name was Severhan. She and Emerson had been playing online for months.

––––––––

EMERSON PRETENDED TO search for bad guys hiding in Sophie’s closet. He trusted the police and asking them to check the apartment had been an abundance of caution. If he’d actually thought the shooter had been anywhere near Sophie’s place, he wouldn’t have let her in the building. The peering into closets was to give himself time to figure out what to do next. Gabe understood, or he wouldn’t have let Emerson search alone.

He heard his brother and Sophie in the other room laughing about something, and for a fraction of a second, he felt the sting of jealousy. It was crazy. He was glad Gabe was there. Since the shooting, he hadn’t been able to leave Sophie alone. He’d had to wait for the paramedics to show up before he could speak to the police, and even then, he kept checking in with her. His brother was one of the few people he’d trust to take his place and he’d been grateful when he arrived. He just wished it didn’t sound like he and Sophie were having so much fun together.

Again, crazy. Gabe had fallen hard and fast for Berlin. They were well on their way to building a life together and his brother was a better man for it. And Emerson wasn’t falling for anyone, but it would be nice once in a while to relax and ease up on the reins—have a little fun himself for a change.

Who was he kidding? His overdeveloped sense of responsibility was a well cultivated trait. One that had made him a great deal of money and helped him build a successful business in a field whose very nature was problematic. Problems, or rather preventing them when he could and solving them when he couldn’t, were his bread and butter, and he had no intention of changing that or the control freak tendencies that made him good at his job. He heard laughter coming from the other room and closed the bedroom door a little harder than was necessary.

“Hey, man.” Gabe looked up from where he and Sophie were standing by the television staring at the gaming console. “What do you want on the pizza?”

“We’re not staying long enough for pizza.” He heard Sophie gasp and kicked himself for being an ass. She must’ve assumed he meant they were leaving her. After what happened earlier, there was no way in hell he’d let her stay by herself. But he also wasn’t spending another night on her couch. The easiest and safest thing for her was to get her to a different place. His place. That’s the story he was telling himself, anyway. For any other client, he’d set up a security perimeter, organize a rotating detail, and they’d keep the focus on keeping her in her own space. He wasn’t sure what she was, but he knew Sophie wasn’t just another client.

“Dude, everybody has time for pizza.” Gabe glanced from Sophie to him and back again. When his gaze met Emerson’s again, it was clear he was waiting for his older brother to fix things.

“Sorry,” he said, feeling sheepish. “We can stop for pizza on the way to my place. Sophie, why don’t you pack a bag with the things you’ll need for a couple of days. You can stay with me until we get this sorted out.” He braced for the questions he knew were headed his way before turning to meet the confused stares of his brother and the woman he’d decided to move in his house. For her protection.

“I can’t—"

“Yes, you can,” he interrupted before she could list a bunch of reasons that wouldn’t change his mind anyway. Now that he’d made the decision, having Sophie stay at his house felt like the perfect solution. He ignored the rest of his feelings. She was young—way too young and innocent for him—but that just made him more determined to take care of her.

Sophie left the rest of what she been about to say trail off and relief replaced confusion on her beautiful face. She didn’t want him to leave. He tried and failed to ignore the way his chest tightened at the thought. Her blue eyes met his and she nodded before turning toward her bedroom.

“Well, all right then,” said Gabe with a grin.

EMERSON’S MEN LEFT almost as quickly as they’d arrived. Once the cops collected the evidence—some cigarette butts and a few empty bullet casings—there wasn’t much else for them to do. Gabe piled in the backseat of Emerson’s SUV, leaving the passenger seat for Sophie. Emerson could’ve insisted he leave them alone, but if Gabe figured out it mattered to his brother, Emerson would never hear the end of it. And he couldn’t be too mad. Having his brother along seemed to relax Sophie. He’d get behind anything that made her more comfortable. Her hands had been like ice when she handed him her small overnight bag, and she was quiet, too quiet, considering the fight he’d expected her to put up about leaving her place.

Her boss called while Sophie was packing and from what he’d managed to overhear, she had the next couple of days off. Seaton had rescheduled the trunk show for some time next month. After the attempted robbery, he was surprised they were going through with it at all but their in-house security seemed to think it was a bungled crime of opportunity instead of a direct attempt to get to Seaton’s pearls. He was less sure, but he honestly didn’t know what to think.

Given the amateur nature of the burglary attempt and the fact the whoever hurt Sophie obviously hadn’t wanted her dead, it seemed unlikely that it and the shooting were related. Proximity in time and the fact that Sophie had been at the center of both made it impossible to stop looking for connections. It didn’t matter. He and his men would keep digging until they found something and in the meantime, he’d keep Sophie safe. He reached across the seat to take her hand, wrapping her fingers in his.

“Your hands are freezing,” he said, tightening his grip and bringing their joined fingers to his mouth. He blew hot breath against her fingertips and ignored the fact that hand warming wasn’t something he’d done for any other client.

“Sure you guys don’t want to be alone?” called Gabe from the backseat, the smart ass thick in his voice.

“Fuck off.” Emerson winced as the words left his mouth and let go of Sophie’s hand. When he glanced over to apologize for his language, he found her watching him, one eyebrow cocked and the corner of her lips curving up in a smile.

“You know I’ve heard that word before, right?”

Ignoring his embarrassment, he punched the button on the heater and exhaled as warm air flooded the cabin.

“He still needs to say sorry. Burned my fragile ears,” said Gabe in a tone intended to piss him off.

“I’d shut up if I were you or he might not let you have any pizza.” Sophie shifted in her seat, and he caught her smile out of the corner of his eye. He’d do a lot to see her smile, even if it meant putting up with his asshole younger brother.

“Perish the thought.” Gabe collapsed back in his seat, blessedly quiet for the moment.

Emerson drove the last few miles to the take-out place. He rarely went there on his own, but he’d dropped so much money at Gino’s feeding his guys, he ought to have the restaurant on retainer. There was no way in hell he’d say it out loud, especially not in front of Gabe, but he’d reached the age where he couldn’t pack away the greasy cheese and pepperoni like he used to—not and keep up with the rest of his men. He was already working at a deficit with ex-military guys like Liam.

It took him hours in the gym every week to stay on par physically with the guys on his team, but he wasn’t about to let the standards drop because he was the boss or because he worked more with his mind than his body. The same thing was true for the gun range. He’d spent hours stacked on hours honing his skill until he was a good a shot as the guys who worked for him. He wouldn’t ask any of his employees to do something he couldn’t do himself. In his business, the only way to command respect was to earn it. If it meant a little less pizza in his life, he’d deal, just not today.

He pulled into the packed parking lot at Gino’s, hesitating a moment before opening his door. He trusted his brother to keep Sophie safe. It wasn’t that; it was more that he didn’t want to leave her. He planned on ignoring the way it felt to have her fingers twined with his, but he couldn’t seem to shake the fact that he wanted to be able to see her and make sure she was okay, which was seven different levels of fucked up.

“I’ll get it,” said Gabe, opening his door. “You always do stupid shit like get them to put vegetables on it.” He gave an overly theatrical shudder as he climbed out of the car.

When Emerson turned back to face her, Sophie was smiling at Gabe’s receding figure and jealousy nipped at him again. It didn’t help that she was closer in age to his younger brother than to him or that they seemed to have more in common, a kind of lightness of spirit he’d never seemed to have.

“You okay?” She shifted in her seat to face him, her smile turning into concern.

“I’m fine. I’m the one who should be asking you that. How are you holding up? A lot happened today.” Hello, Captain Obvious.

“I’m okay. Really.”

She nodded, and he realized she must be feeling some of the same kind of nerves he was. It wasn’t like him to let a woman knock him off-center. It made him sound like an ass, but he didn’t usually care enough. Sophie had him completely derailed. There was a small comfort in knowing she felt something similar. That probably did make him an ass.

“You don’t have to take me to your place. We could just get pizza, and you could drop me off at my apartment. I’m sure I’ll be safe there,” she said, sounding anything but sure.

It didn’t matter. Her suggestion didn’t merit a response. Keeping her safe was non-negotiable. Taking her to his place was the easiest way to accomplish that.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Sophie. So until I know what’s going on and the police catch whoever took a shot at you, you’re staying with me.”

“Why?” Her voice shook, and she blinked wide eyes, making her look vulnerable, younger than she was.

His heart clenched in response. Why not was a better question. What kind of person saw someone in need and didn’t help? What kind of life had she lived that she didn’t automatically assume that? Never mind the fact that he seemed drawn to her beyond any rational explanation.

“Because I can. Because I care about you. You pick the reason. None of that changes the reality.”

The words hung in the air between them, and he felt himself leaning toward her as if they were somehow tethered together. She sucked in a breath, but she didn’t back away and when she licked her lips, heat hit him like a punch in the gut. This woman had him seconds away from running over lines he had no business crossing.

The back door opened and they pulled away from each other as if they’d been shocked. Gabe climbed into the SUV, holding a large white cardboard pizza box. He glanced between them and a grin split his face.

“Tell me you didn’t do something crazy, like get pineapple on the pizza?” Emerson said, feeling like he’d dodged a bullet. Given the day he’d had, the irony was not lost on him.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” said Gabe, feigning hurt. “I went one better. I got this.” He flipped open the lid of the box revealing a large pizza covered with a cornucopia of vegetables, including grilled eggplant.

There was only one reason Gabe would order a veggie lovers pizza and that was if he had no intention of eating it with them.

“You guys are on your own. Berlin caught an earlier flight. Drop me at the office. If I hurry I can be at the airport by the time her plane lands.”