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Brantt had nothing to say about Moe’s mission.
“Are you satisfied that Moe didn’t kidnap me?” Breely asked.
Her father snorted. “His story makes a little sense. I still don’t trust him.”
Breely turned to the officers who’d witnessed their family squabble. “As you can see, there’s no one to arrest. No kidnapping took place, thanks to Mr. Cleveland. You’re not needed here after all.” She gave them an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. Thank you for your service and prompt response.”
The Denver police officers started for the door.
“I didn’t say they could go,” Brantt’s deep voice cut the air like a knife.
The two policemen stopped.
“Uh, sir, the young lady said she wasn’t kidnapped,” one of the men in uniform said. “We can’t arrest this man if he hasn’t committed a crime.”
“How do we know she’s not under duress?” Brantt asked. “He could have threatened to kill her or someone she cares about if she tells the truth.”
“Daddy,” Breely shook her head, “don’t continue to make this difficult. These men have real jobs to do other than catering to you and your unfounded claims.” She tipped her head toward the door. “Go. There’s nothing here for you to see.”
The police officers’ gazes went to the older Brantt.
Breely’s father’s mouth pinched. For a moment, Moe thought he’d say something biting. Eventually, he jerked his head toward the exit. “You can go.”
The lawmen hurried through the door before Brantt could change his mind.
Out in the hallway stood a man dressed in hotel livery and two hulking men, wearing black suits and dark sunglasses, that Moe guessed were Brantt’s bodyguards.
The hotel staff member had to have been the one to let Brantt into the room. Moe would have a chat with the man after the dust settled.
The door closed on the three in the hallway, leaving Brantt, Moe and Breely alone in the room.
“How long have you known this man?” her father asked.
Breely and Moe exchanged a glance.
“I met Moe yesterday,” Breely admitted.
“Then why the hell are you in the same hotel room with this man and…and…” Her father waved a hand toward the bathroom.
Breely cocked an eyebrow. “Naked?”
The elder Brantt’s cheeks flushed a ruddy red. “You don’t know this man. I don’t understand.”
“Daddy,” she said, “I’m not your baby girl anymore. I’m a full-grown adult. I get to choose how, where I live and who I sleep with. Moe doesn’t work for you. You can’t make him disappear.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” her father said in a low, dangerous tone.
“Stop pretending you’re God and that you can call all the shots.” She sighed and touched her father’s arm. “I know you and Mama want to keep me safe for the rest of my life, but I can’t live the way I did. I felt like I was in prison and hadn’t actually gotten to live.”
Her father covered her hand on his arm. “I knew you weren’t happy. That’s why I let you leave.”
Her lips curled in that sassy way which made Moe want to pull her into his arms and kiss her long and hard. She was beautiful, feisty and petite, the kind of woman a man wanted to protect.
And she hated being smothered and coddled.
She looked up at her father, frowning her disappointment. “You let me leave and yet sent a spy to keep an eye on me?”
He shook his head. “I sent a bodyguard. He was supposed to stay far enough away not to interfere with your independence, yet close enough to help if you got in a bad situation.”
