Page 70 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“Are the rumors true that you were attacked by the same person who murdered that private investigator?”

“Why is the FBI involved?”

Maintaining unbelievable composure, she held up her hands, silencing the reporters. “Ladies and gentlemen. I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss anything related to an ongoing investigation.” Good. Deflect. “But I would like to mention that Vandenburg Enterprises is currently considering several new charities for our grants this month, including—”

“C’mon, Katrina. Tell us what’s really going on.” A burly reporter pushed past a cameraman, invading Kat’s personal space and bumping into her as he shoved a digital recorder in her face.

Kat jerked back and stumbled. Her high heel caught on the edge of the step. She wobbled, about to go down hard on the concrete.

“Remy! Gib laut!”

He dropped Remy’s leash, lunging for Kat and catching her before she fell backward on the pavement. Remy barked, snapping her jaws and forcing the reporter to back off.

“Geh voraus!” Remy swung her head left and right, still barking and growling as she cleared a path through the throng of reporters who jumped out of the way to keep from having a set of sharp canine incisors sink deep into their flesh.

“Put me down,” Kat hissed in his ear. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m only doing my job. Remember?” He barreled his way to the curb with a struggling Kat in his arms.

Behind them, cameras clicked faster. Questions came fast and fierce.

“Is this man your bodyguard?”

“Is he FBI?”

“Are you in any danger?”

“For god’s sake, put me down!” She pushed at his shoulders but he held fast, not setting her down until they’d reached the vehicle.

Once she was safely inside, he loaded Remy into the kennel. He began rounding the hood but stopped. A familiar face hovered on the edge of the crowd. Was that—? Jesus, it was. Manny—the flower delivery guy. Holding a bouquet of pink roses. If that guy wasn’t stalker material, Dayne would eat his left nut.

That’s all he needed. A homicidal maniac and a stalker to contend with. A strongly worded phone call to the flower shop was at the top of his to-do list.

With Remy no longer a threat, the media horde converged once again. As soon as Dayne closed his door, he cranked the engine, hit the strobes, and gunned the SUV into traffic.

A few blocks away, he flipped off the strobes. The second he did, Kat twisted in her seat, jabbing a finger at him.

“How dare you?” Her eyes flashed with enough heated anger to singe the hair off his head. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

He met her fury head-on. “At least you’re not lying on the steps of your own building with your skull cracked open, because that’s exactly what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten you out of there.”

“You…you…” Color crept up her neck.

“Yeah, I know. Neanderthal.” The light turned green. “Buckle up.”

“I hate you,” she spat. “Right now, I really hate you.” She huffed then clicked on her seat belt and crossed her arms.

The hostility in the SUV was hotter than a forest fire and all he could think was that if anyone tried to hurt her, he’d kill them with his bare hands. Not because she was a witness he was assigned to protect. Because he cared about her. More than he should.

“By the way,” he added. “In case you didn’t notice, you’ve definitely got a stalker.”

Chapter Nineteen

Kat dug her bare toes into the plush rug. The moment they’d returned home, she’d kicked off her heels and sought out the peace and solitude of her home office. For the past two hours, she’d been reviewing business documents, with only Angus for company.

Taking a break, she threw down her pen and sighed. She still thought Manny was harmless but had to agree with Dayne. Him showing up outside her building—with roses, no less—was indeed stalker behavior she could no longer ignore. Dayne had notified the guards not to let Manny onto the property, then he’d called the flower shop to arrange for a different delivery person.

Angus pawed his chew toy, dragging it closer to her desk then flopping onto his side. The puppy would have been glued to Remy, but Dayne had taken his K-9 on patrol outside with the guards. He was probably avoiding her. Not that she could blame the man.