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FBI? This makes no sense. “Daddy?” I jump up from my desk and attempt to sidestep Lucky, who refuses to budge. “Move.”
“Can’t do that.” He turns and gives me his back as two people in blue windbreakers enter my office. “Agents?”
“Ma’am, step aside,” says a woman a few years older than me.
Her dark scowl gets my attention, as does her hand on the holster of the gun at her hip, but Lucky doesn’t give me a chance to comply. He steps aside and places a hand low on my back.
“This is Aria Morgan. I assume you have a warrant?”
Her mirthless stare matches the blank expressions on the faces of the other two federal agents, but Lucky’s touch sends fire pulsing through my body. My nipples stiffen even worse—almost painful—and the fear of the agents combined with his fiery touch leaves my panties wetter than the ocean outside my office.
The agents, one short and chubby, the other dark-haired and fatherly, look from me to Lucky and back again. “Daughter of Geoffrey Morgan?”
Before I can answer, Coco appears from under my desk, barking his little head off. The agents look down with matching bemused expressions.
I take a step forward, and Lucky pushes me behind him, his hands moving from my lower back to my belly, indecently low. “What about Daddy?”
The agents look at each other, nod, and exit my office, but Lucky’s touch remains, the fire smoldering inside of me.
“I have to go,” I say. “I need to warn Daddy.”
Lucky’s grip tightens, but it doesn’t hurt. “If you want to help, call or text him. If you interfere, they will arrest you.”
“So what,” I shout, indignant and helpless.
“So what?” He snorts and shakes his head. “I can’t do shit to protect you if you’re in federal lockup. Got it?”
I scoff. “I hardly think I’d be in danger surrounded by federal agents.”
His smile widens, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s where your book smarts fail you, sweetheart. No place is safe for a girl like you, least of all a building filled with people who hate your dear old dad.”
His eyes flash with something that looks like heat, but I can’t be sure, which is totally out of the norm for me. Usually, I can tell when a man wants me, mainly because they always want me.
I reach for my phone to warn Daddy but instead, I hear his voice. “This is a mistake,” he yells. “I’ll have your jobs. All of you!”
“Daddy!” I cry out and dodge Lucky’s efforts to hold me back, stopping in the doorway as three agents surround my father, one on each side and one trailing behind. Without thinking, I lunge forward and start pushing the agents back. “You can’t do this! Do you know who he is?” The agent in the back raises his forearms to block my hits.
“Aria.” The deep voice belongs to Lucky, I think, but I can’t be sure through my thick fog of rage.
“You people,” I shout so loud my lungs burn. “You think you can come in here and do whatever you want. Well, you can’t. This is unlawful.” Coco, the best sidekick in the world, is at my side barking like crazy at the agents. “Good boy.”
The agent I falsely assumed was kind and fatherly takes a step forward. “You need to step back or find yourself in a set of matching cuffs.”
Coco lunges forward and nips at the aggressive agent's pant leg. “Good boy!”
“Dammit, Aria, stay back,” my father commands. His expensive suit, in sharp contrast to the agents’ shabby uniforms, but his voice is just as angry.
“Get her back,” he orders Lucky, and a moment later, the biker’s strong arms band around my waist, my back flush against his incredibly hard chest as he pulls me away.
“Daddy, no!” My legs kick, and I struggle, but Lucky’s grip doesn’t budge. “Do something, Lucky! You can’t let them take him away.”
Lucky sets me down on my feet and spins me to face him, his eyes sparkling like gems this close. “Your father has a team of lawyers that he pays for situations just like this, Aria. Don’t make it worse by getting yourself arrested.”
His hand rests against the wall beside my head, the other low on my belly still, or maybe it’s again. I’m too full of hormones and emotions to think clearly.
“He’ll be all right,” Lucky reassures me and swipes a thumb across my cheek.
I blink, surprised that I’m crying. “I don’t cry.”
