Page 12 of Guarded Hearts
One of the folders had a passcode lock.
“Layne.”
She looked up with forced nonchalance. “Yes?”
“Come over here. I need you to unlock this folder in your phone.”
After a beat of hesitation, she stood and crossed the room to the desk.
He held up the phone and took a shot of her face for ID.
She made a swipe for the phone. “What are youdoing? That’s a violation of my privacy! I didn’t grant you permission to go through every photo in my phone!”
“The minute you made that call to my agency, you did.”
“Exactly what do you need access to?”
Photos began to pop up on the screen.
With a cry, she threw herself between him and the laptop.
He pushed out a sigh. “Look, I already explained why I need to see every single photo so I can try to find who is stalking you.”
She gulped at the word.
Damn, he didn’t mean to scare her. His job was to calm the client. She had him so rattled that he wasn’t doing his job right.
“Layne, trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’m going to keep you safe and find this guy who’s scaring you.”
Some of the color had leeched from her face, making him feel worse.
“Please let me help you.” He pitched his voice lower in a way he heard Oaks do with upset clients.
She nodded and slowly peeled herself away from the laptop screen, scooting out of the way.
Damn. It worked. He had to tell Oaks that he wasn’t crazy after all.
When he focused on the photos, he almost swallowed his tongue.
“Are you sure you have to look at those?”
“You’d be surprised where people pop up. A beach seems like a great spot. Don’t worry. I’ll keep these from my brothers. I’ll put them in a special folder where they won’t see them.”
He pulled up one of her holding a fruit drink with an umbrella, a warm smile on her face. Her skin glowed under the sun’s rays. Sand and droplets of water clung to body parts.
The black triangles of her bikini barely covered her nipples.
She issued a low groan. “Those aren’t beach photos, Carson. Those are my boobs.”
Yes, yes, they were. In stunning clarity too.
Quickly, he flipped to another photo of the palm trees of the Waikiki landscape. Not that he’d ever been there, but he’d seen pictures.
Her brows were pinched. “Let’s talk about that contract with Black Heart Security now. How do I pay you? Do you accept a credit card? Money transfer?”
He waved a hand. “We’ll work it out later.”
Her phone rang with the tinkle of a reed flute. She snatched up the device and silenced it.