Free Guarding the Socialite by Kimberly Van Meter Page A

doesn’t mean they can’t have a future.”
    â€œIs that the Iris House motto?” he asked.
    She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her but it didn’t feel much like a compliment. She regarded him coolly. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
    He seemed to catch that he’d offended her. Something flickered across his gaze—regret, curiosity—she wasn’t sure, but he didn’t give her the chance to find out. Pushing his hand through his hair, he shook his head with a weary sigh. “No.”
    â€œSo my girls are clear?” Relief was immediate as he answered with a nod.
    â€œAll except Ursula,” he added. He moved away from the window but leaned against the wall. He was the most puzzling man she’d ever come across. She didn’t have a habit of working with FBI agents but Dillon McIntyre wasn’t what she would’ve imagined if she were drawing a picture. He managed to make slouching look sexy. She straightened her own spine. He gazed at her, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets. “Any particular reason why you got all snarly earlier? I sense a story.”
    She shouldn’t tell him. It was Ursula’s business but he was bound to find out eventually and she didn’t want to make it seem as if she’d been hiding anything. She drew a short breath before answering. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t divulge such personal information but due to the extraordinary circumstances I feel it may be pertinent to share. Ursula hasremained in her room because she is recuperating from an unfortunate incident with a…client.” She met his inquiring gaze evenly, without reservation. “She was beaten by a john. Severely.”
    If she expected recriminations she didn’t get any, which elevated Dillon a fraction in her estimation. She was even willing to give him extra points for the dark frown of concern pulling his brows as he asked, “She okay?”
    Emma drew away, leaning back in her chair, the day wearing on her reserves. “She’ll live. Chick said she’s bruised pretty badly but nothing is broken.”
    â€œI’m surprised you didn’t take her to the hospital.”
    â€œI would’ve. Ursula refused medical treatment. I respected her wishes.”
    â€œShe should’ve made a police report for assault,” he said, but they both knew why she didn’t. Prostitutes who got banged up during the commission of a crime weren’t usually given the red carpet treatment. Emma had witnessed the prejudice firsthand with her sister. Her mouth tightened as the memory bloomed and it took great will to keep her comments on the subject from spilling out. If he noted her reaction he didn’t push. He seemed to realize she was skirting something personal and even if his eyes lighted with interest in the mystery he simply returned to the business at hand. “Since Ursula is unavailable tonight for questioning, that leaves my evening open for you.”
    A jolt of something hot and unfamiliar sparked along her nerve endings but she managed a sensible agreement. He needed to interview everyone in the house; that included her. There was nothing above and beyond protocol that prompted his statement, and if his gaze seemed to linger it was only because he was trained to watch for subtlety, not because he was checking her out. What a thought. She suppressed a melancholy sigh that came from out of nowhere.
    â€œOf course,” she said, gathering her hands in her lap, prepared to answer whatever question he might pose. “I expected as much. What would you like to know?”
    He zeroed in on her gaze, pinning her with that dark and unwavering stare and she could’ve sworn her heart stuttered a beat. It was hard to look away but she schooled her expression into one of neutrality even if every nerve snapped and sizzled at the raw heat that emanated from those eyes.
    â€œAre you dating