“Then yes.”
“Without too many questions?” I test.
“Without hesitation,” he adds.
I nod solemnly. “Good. You’re hired.”
“You’re not hiring Tank to kill my cousins,Principessa,” Maverick’s amused voice drifts in from somewhere close behind me.
Tank’s hands flex slightly at my hips, like he forgot they were there…but he doesn’t remove them.
“Brother,” Maverick continues lazily, “will you let Spike know we’ll be back in the morning?”
“I wasn’t going to hire him,” I say, turning to glare at Maverick affectively…accidently…removing Tank’s hands from my body.
And I absolutely mourn the loss of contact.
“I was going to make a strong suggestion,” I finish primly.
Maverick laughs.
Tank doesn’t.
“Did they give you trouble?” Tank asks, his entire body already coiled like he’s prepared to dismantle someone on my behalf.
“They wouldn’t let me pee without conducting a tactical sweep,” I deadpan.
Tank’s jaw twitches.
But not in the murderous way I expected.
In the amused way.
“I told them to keep eyes on you at all times, baby,” he says, voice lowering just slightly. “I’m sure they had their backs turned.”
I open my mouth to argue…dramatically, I might add…but stop.
Because technically… he’s right.
They were obnoxious.
Not inappropriate.
“Well, I’m going to fire them,” I declare instead.
“No,” Maverick says lightly. “You won’t. They did exactly what they were told.”
I cross my arms. “I am not a high-profile political figure.”
“No,” Tank says quietly.
His tone shifts.
“You’re something far more valuable.”
The teasing evaporates.
Heat climbs up my neck.
