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Appreciate. That word grated worse than any nails on a chalkboard ever could. He hadn’t done much. Certainly hadn’t saved her. He had given her two orgasms, but he didn’t think those releases were what Shelby meant when she said she appreciated “all you’ve done for me.”

He should probably ease his grip on the steering wheel. But if he eased his grip, he just might grab her.

Probably not a good idea.

“I won’t forget you, Hunter, and I truly do appreciate⁠—”

“Stop.” Guttural. One word. Pretty much all he could manage at the moment.

“Hunter?”

“I fucked up. It won’t happen again.” His miscalculation. “I’ve called in backup.” That backup should already be on the scene and, yep, he could see the big, hulking figure making his way toward their parked car right then. Shelby hadn’t spotted him, not yet. She would. Soon enough. “You’ll be protected both by me and him. Clearly, some sonofabitch thinks he’s going to take you from me.” His head turned. He met her wide eyes. “And, clearly, that is not going to happen. I will not let it happen.” Then, “I will not fail again. I really, really fucking hate failure.”

Her lips had parted. Shadows covered her, but the illumination from the dash still allowed him to make out her gorgeous face. “Hunter?”

“You’re not firing me, sweetheart.” And he would never quit on her. Not ever.

“It’s…safer for you. This way, I mean. You could have been in the SUV when it exploded⁠—”

“So the fuck could you. You could have still been in the vehicle!” Something broke with those words. He yanked the key from the ignition, shutting off the lights on the dash. Hunter shoved open his door, he marched around the rental, and Shelby had already gotten out. She stood by her door, the faint rain that still fell sliding gently over her head.

“Hunter…”

He didn’t stop. He went straight to her, he scooped her up, and he tossed her over his shoulder.

“Hunter—what in the hell?”

Ah, yes, what in the hell, indeed. She grabbed at the back of his shirt, and he almost got a knee to the face, but it was worth it, truly. Because some passion had come back into her voice. Energy. She twisted and heaved, but he just tightened his grip. “Careful, sweetheart, we don’t want that arm to start bleeding again.” He headed for the porch.

“Um, hello, Hunter,” his backup said from the foot of the porch. The hulking figure of John Henry Cook that Hunter had spied moments before. “You look like you are pretty occupied, so how about you toss me the car keys? I’ll park the vehicle in the garage for you and then do some perimeter sweeps.” John Henry cleared his throat. “I’ll be bunking in the guest house. All the security cameras are already programmed so they’ll transmit to both of our phones. A little bit of tech help that Declan arranged.”

Shelby stiffened as she dangled over Hunter’s shoulder. “Who is that?” Hunter felt her twist again. “Who is that?”

Hunter tightened his grip on her even more.

“My name is John Henry, ma’am,” Hunter’s backup told her. “I was brought in because Hunter said you needed extra protection. Don’t worry. I know how to hang back, not get in the way, but still make absolutely certain you will remain safe.” He cleared his throat. “The keys?” John Henry prompted. “Looks like you, uh, have your hands full.”

Had that been a joke? From John Henry? The towering bear of a man was usually pretty damn stoic, but, in this instance, he was right. Hunter did have his hands full. He also had no intention of letting Shelby go.

“This is ridiculously awkward,” she huffed. “Hunter, put me down.”

“Not yet.” He kept one arm around the back of her legs, and his free hand tossed the keys toward a silent John Henry.

John Henry easily caught the keys. “I’ll expect an update when you’re…less busy.”

Hunter grunted. He’d been very lucky that John Henry had been in the area. The guy had just wrapped up a case in Jacksonville, so he’d been able to haul ass in record time to meet Hunter. He’d worked a few other cases with John Henry recently—Ice Breaker work—and he knew that he could count on the guy.

“Good meeting you, ma’am,” John Henry said, a faint southern accent rolling beneath his words. He turned away.

Hunter climbed the steps to the porch, punched in the code he’d been given for the keypad, and when the lock disengaged, he carried his client and his obsession inside the house.

“Hunter, I am not amused. At all. Put me down or I will hurt you.”

Such a fierce threat. He liked her fierce. Liked her angry. He did not like it when tears welled in her eyes and her voice became hushed and her face too pale as she told him that she appreciated all he’d done. He didn’t like it at all when she tried to send him away so that she could face danger on her own.

He locked the door behind them with one hand. Set the security system because he had all the codes memorized. Declan had given him the codes earlier. One arm remained curled behind her legs, and the other hit the switch for the lights.

He surveyed the scene before him. “This will do.”