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“Our appointment is at ten,” Wilder said coolly. As Wilder passed by the man, he flipped his feet off the table. “You’ve made yourself at home. Typically our clients keep to the pre-agreed time.”
“I’m a busy man.”
Wilder sat and leaned back in his chair, already bored. “Aren’t we all? What can Blood Moon Agency do for you, Mr.—” He purposefully paused as if the man wasn’t important enough to be remembered. It had the desired effect. The rude man bristled.
“Greg Stevens. This is my wife, Amelia Sunderland.”
Wilder dared only a quick glance in Amelia’s direction. Only one glance, and he thought her name suited her. Pretty and classic with a hint of mystery.
“Mr. Stevens. Mrs. Sunderland. How can BMA help you?”
“I need protection. Isn’t it obvious? I want some bodyguards.”
Wilder took a deep breath to keep calm, but it was a mistake. Amelia’s floral scent filled his nose. He couldn’t dislodge it, and he didn’t even know if he wanted to. It would be all he ever had of her.
“Why does your wife need protection?” he asked, assuming the guards were for Amelia.
Greg laughed. “Guard? For her? I guess I could have a guy on her.” He laughed again. “Wouldn’t want her to run away.”
The comment struck Wilder as odd, but it was Amelia’s wince that nearly made him jump onto the table, grab Amelia, and vanish from the conference room. Greg Stevens didnotdeserve his wife. That much was clear.
“Who needs guards?” he said through gritted teeth.
“I do. I have some enemies.”
“Interesting that your concern shouldn’t be for your wife. Surely she would be an easy target for your enemies.”
“You’re the pro,” Greg laughed. Wilder disliked the sound. His patience was getting thinner by the second.
“Before we take on clients, we do a security assessment. We go to your home, speak with your staff, and determine your personal security needs. For all the members of your family.”
Amelia looked up. “I—”
“A security assessment? Nah. Can’t you just take my word for it? I need protection.”
Wilder flexed his fists under the table.Do not punch a potential client. Of course, he wouldn’t be taking this man on as a client. He was getting all kinds of bad vibes.
There was also his mate.
How was he supposed to exist in a world where he would get constant reminders that his mate was married to another?
And not justanyman, but this horrific jackass of a man.
“We pick our clients,” Wilder said. “We don’t represent people who have shady business dealings.” As he had anticipated, this struck a chord with Greg.
“Shady?”
“Shady,” he repeated. “Tell me why you need guards.”
“I have enemies,” Greg replied like a petulant child.
“Don’t we all,” he mumbled. “What kind of business are you in?”
“Import and export.”
Wilder had expected that answer. In his business,import and exportusually meant things that were less than legal—if not flat-out illegal.
“Youdoknow that we have an international crime unit, don’t you? We work closely with Interpol, Europol, and a number of other international authorities.”
