Free For Her Protection: An Alpha Romance by Amber Bardan

need you to wait here for a while. I won’t be long, maybe half an hour.”
    Connor leaned across her, holding the door closed, without saying a word.
    “It’s a secure building. No one can get in. You can keep watch out here.”
    He leaned back, his expression hardening.
    She could totally see him in his cop days. He would have been the “bad” cop without having to open his mouth.
    “It’s called privacy. I believe I’m entitled to have some.”
    His mouth evened. “Not while I’m around.”
    “What if you won’t like what you see?” Charlie met his gaze.
    “If you’re going to see another man, say so right now.” In the dark of the car his eyes seemed black.
    What would he do if she was? He looked as if he’d kill the other guy, but why? Possessiveness, or did he care?
    But she wouldn’t mess with him to find out.
    “It’s my father’s apartment.” She swallowed and leaned back into her seat. “He doesn’t know about what’s happening with the threats. I can’t tell him, so I also can’t explain you.”
    Connor didn’t move, but the touch on her knee softened. “Then tell him we’re together. That will do.”
    Together .
    It sounded far too good and if she did say those words, she might just believe they were true.
    “I’d rather not explain you at all.”
    “Not an option.”
    Charlie tugged on the door handle. “Fine but you don’t say anything about anything—especially about work.”
    He gave her a hard stare. “I’m a vault.”

SIX
    Connor followed Charlie into the penthouse apartment. For all the luxury, the building struck him as off. He’d remained at her back, watchful as always but his skin crawled the same way it did when he entered a prison block. Too much security, locked doors, security pads, cameras, not an exit or window that looked easy to get out of.
    “Dad?” Charlie set her keys down on a large hall table, her heels echoing on the polished wood floor.
    The scent of cigar smoke clung to the walls and furniture. She ran her fingertips over the back of an antique velvet couch as they stepped into an expansive sitting room.
    A man sat in a green high-backed armchair, ankle resting on one knee, dressed as if he was at some fancy-ass country club in a three-piece-suit.
    He glanced up from his paper. “You finishing work early these days?”
    He spoke gruffly but he put his arm out and Charlie moved to his side and planted her full lips on his cheek.
    “It’s six-thirty, Dad.”
    “I never finished before eight.” The man’s gaze landed on Conner. “Who’s this?”
    Charlie stood next to her father, whose greying, dark hair looked as if it’d once been the same raven as hers.
    “Dad, this is my…” She wrung the strap of her bag with one hand and glanced between the two men. “My boyfriend, Connor.” She released the strap and looked at him, a slight line between her brows. “Conner, this is my father, William Halifax.”
    Connor stepped forward and extended his hand. “Sir.”
    William clasped his hand, putting enough strength behind his grasp to let Connor know the man may be older but not frail.
    “At least this one has manners.” William turned to Charlie. “I thought you were engaged to that schmuck, Simon?”
    Engaged?
    The word punched him in the chest, spread rage through his ribcage. He forced the anger down. So she’d had a life… He’d had one too. But she’d been engaged—recently by the sound of it.
    Fuck . He hated the idea of someone else’s hands on her. From now on there’d only be his.
    Charlie went rigid then squeezed her father’s shoulder. “No, Dad, I told you we broke up.”
    William blinked again, gaze hazy.
    “Did you?” He shook his head. “Well I’m glad to hear it. That boy could never keep up with you.” He looked at Connor. “Captain of the girls football team, you know.”
    He gestured to the mantel.
    Connor turned. Well, look at that. Above the fireplace trophies lined the entire mantel. Football, and