Odd. She would have thought their mating would have given him some insight into her aversion to being given orders.
He might as well have waved a red flag before a bull.
“How the hell can it be too dangerous?” she said between clenched teeth. “The cur’s going to be golfing with you, not lurking under the sofa.”
His expression was hard, as unyielding as granite. “The nymph might be working with him.”
“I already told you that she knew nothing about the attempts to kill me.”
“She could be lying,” he countered. “And even if she isn’t responsible, she will do whatever necessary to protect her lover if she realizes we suspect him.”
She stepped forward, poking her finger into the center of his chest.
“Let me get this straight,” she growled. “You intend to spend the entire afternoon with a cur who might or might not be a bloodthirsty murderer, but I’m not allowed to have a glass of wine with a damned nymph?”
He didn’t even flinch at her fierce accusation. “I’m not the one being hunted, Sophia.”
Her teeth snapped together at the truth of his words.
She was stubborn, not stupid. And while it aggravated the hell out of her, she had to concede he had a point.
The reason she’d hired a bodyguard hadn’t gone away just because she’d fallen in love with the man, had it? The only sensible thing to do was to let him do his job.
Even if the thought of twiddling her thumbs while Luc was searching for her enemy made her want to howl in frustration.
“Dammit.” She glared at Luc, in this moment holding him entirely responsible. Hey, what were mates for? “I hate feeling helpless.”
“You will never be helpless, cara, but just for now you need to take extra care,” he murmured, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “Let me protect you.”
Like he was giving her a choice?
She heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
“Fine what?” he demanded, almost as if he didn’t trust her.
Imagine that.
“I won’t visit the nymph,” she clarified.
“You’ll stay home?”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
She met his smoldering gaze with a stubborn frown. She’d agreed to give up her plan to search Morton’s house for signs of his guilt, but she’d be damned if she would remain trapped in her house like a damsel in distress.
“I need to go to the club.”
“It can survive one day without you.”
“Not today,” she insisted. “I have payroll checks to sign and a new dancer scheduled for an audition.”
He stilled, the scent of his wolf filling the air. The beast didn’t like the thought of her being close to another male.
Understandable. She’d slice off his nuts if she thought he was sniffing after another female.
“A new dancer?” he growled.