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of his anger. “We both know that’s a lie. Your relationship with Locke is very much my business.”
    She tilted her chin, not even caring that her scars were showing. “Why?”
    He clenched his hands. “Because it proves you have every reason to betray us.”
    “You assume everything proves I have reason to betray you,” she accused, suddenly tired of playing the role of villain. Had she made bad choices? Yes. Had she trusted the wrong people? Yes. But she’d been punished and now she was doing everything in her power to repair the damage she’d caused. Enough was enough. “What do I have to do to prove I’m no longer working for my previous employers?”
    He pointed toward the shattered picture. “Tell me the truth.”
    She gave a grudging nod. “Fine, but not here.”
    There was a long pause before he moved to scoop the stack of files she’d discovered off the floor.
    “Are you finished?” he inquired, his voice oddly flat.
    She glanced around the office. She’d searched everywhere she could imagine Locke would have stashed his private files.
    “I’ve found everything I’m going to.”
    “Let’s go.”
    In a tense silence they left the building and returned to Michel’s car. The silence lingered as they drove a few blocks and halted in front of a small house surrounded by a high fence. Pulling out his phone, Michel punched in a number and seconds later a gate slid open. He gunned the engine to pull up a short drive and directly into the open garage bay.
    Barely glancing in her direction, Michel shut off the engine and crawled out of the car. Chelsea sighed, hurriedly moving to join him as he walked to the side of the garage and placed his hand on a small scanner that was designed to read his prints.
    She got that he was pissed. She should have revealed she’d been intimately involved with Locke.
    But, yeesh.
    The prickling heat that was filling the air threatened to choke her.
    “What is this place?” Chelsea inquired, her brows lifting as a hidden door glided open and Michel stepped into the short tunnel that led into the attached building.
    “This is the closest safe house,” he said, leading her through a small but ruthlessly clean kitchen and equally tidy living room that was decorated with flowered sofas and tables filled with knickknacks.
    Anyone glancing through the window would assume it was the home of a traditional granny. Chelsea, however, didn’t miss the cameras tucked in the corners of the ceiling and the steel shutters that could be closed to keep out an intruder.
    Michel continued his swift pace into the hallway and up a narrow flight of stairs. It wasn’t until they were in the bedroom at the very back of the house that he at last halted so he could turn to face her.
    Chelsea glanced around, taking in the wide double bed covered by a handmade quilt, and the sturdy walnut furnishings. It was…homey. A sudden weariness flared through Chelsea.
    She wanted nothing more than to crawl onto that bed and tumble into a deep, dreamless sleep.
    “Is this my room?” she demanded.
    “It is.” Michel stabbed her with a threatening glare. “I’ll warn you now that the phones are tapped and there’s no way to get in or out unless I unlock the doors.”
    Her lips thinned, and she barely resisted the urge to punch him in the junk. “You’re wearing on my nerves,” she rasped.
    “The feeling is mutual.”
    She met him glare for glare, trying to ignore the tiny shivers racing through her body.
    “Now what?” she challenged. “Handcuffs and whips?”
    The hint of gold in his eyes abruptly deepened as his anger transformed into something far more dangerous.
    Stepping forward, he deliberately wrapped her in the thunderous power that radiated around his hard, muscular body.
    “Now there’s a thought.” His voice was husky, filled with hunger that echoed deep inside her. “I’m sure I could find any bedroom toys you might need to turn you on.”
    Her mouth went dry, her pussy