Page 69 of Ice Covered Heart

“You didn’t mean it.”

Ah, back to that, were they? “Again, gonna need you to define…it.”

A hint of color tinted her cheeks. “The finger-crooking nonsense. That it business. Jonah isn’t in love with me.”

“You’re right. He just thinks he is. Better?” The elevator dinged. The doors opened.

“No,” Shelby huffed. “That is not better.” She strode past him, out of the open elevator doors and into the lobby. “That hardly—let me go!”

Rage exploded within Hunter because some jackass in a blue dress shirt and loose red tie had just grabbed Shelby’s arm and hauled her toward him. In a blink, Hunter attacked. He yanked her out of the prick’s hold, he grabbed that bastard and slammed him against the nearest wall, and then Hunter shoved his forearm into the smaller guy’s throat. “You don’t fucking ever touch her.”

“Re…re…port…”

“You don’t grab a woman. You don’t come at her that way. Especially not⁠—”

“Re…porter…”

Shelby tapped Hunter on the shoulder. “I think he’s trying to say that he’s a reporter.”

The man struggled to remove Hunter’s forearm. Hunter left it in place with minimal effort. “That what you’re trying to say?”

Frantic head bobs.

Hunter lifted his hold, a little. “Then you damn well know you don’t grab women. Dumbass.” He glared at the bastard. “Never make that mistake again.” He let the guy go, grudgingly.

The reporter sucked in a breath even as he began to rub his throat. “Are you fucking insane, man? I will have you arrested! I will have you tossed in jail! I will sue you for damages! I will⁠—”

“You’ll get the hell away from me.” Threats bored him. “I’m Shelby’s bodyguard. You just attacked my client. I defended her. Case closed.” He wanted the idiot to come at him again. Just try it. “What in the hell are you even doing here? Lying in wait in the hotel lobby?”

The reporter’s chin jutted up as he finally stopped the dramatic throat rubbing. “I have questions. I knew Shelby was here, I was going to⁠—”

“How the fuck did you know she was here?” Hunter interrupted.

The reporter rolled his eyes. “Dude. It’s like—the nicest hotel in town. The one with the best security. Where else would she be?”

“Clearly the security is not good enough,” Shelby exclaimed from behind Hunter. “If they’re just letting reporters run loose in the lobby.”

“He snuck in.” Hunter had already figured that out. “Because he wanted to beat the pack. Guessing the others are following the rules and staying outside?” But the very fact that the guy had snuck in told him this place was not good enough for Shelby. Other arrangements would be made, STAT. Good thing he had powerful friends and plenty of good connections of his own.

He’d be using those connections.

“They’re in front,” the reporter admitted. “Some out back, too, in case she runs that way.” His head craned as he tried to see around Hunter and glimpse Shelby. “Look, this is a big freaking case in this town. The sole survivor is back, and now we have another dead girl. The same night that Shelby returns—we have a new vic. It’s just local reporters right now, but the big leagues will be closing in soon enough. No way they miss this story.” He straightened his red tie. “I’m Shamus Quint from Channel Seven. I usually handle entertainment and sports, but⁠—”

“There is nothing entertaining about a woman’s murder,” Shelby said flatly.

“I was trying to branch out,” Shamus snapped.

“Whatever.” Hunter didn’t like the guy. “You were trying to get a scoop. So you snuck your ass past security, and you hid in the lobby. You watched and you waited until you saw Shelby. Pretty sure that’s stalking. Then you accosted her. Don’t know who taught you these steps for reporting, but you really seem to be doing the whole deal wrong.”

Shamus wet his lips. “I want an interview.” He stepped to the side. Stared at Shelby. “Please. I-I apologize for grabbing you.”

Hunter grunted. “Damn straight, you do.”

“I want to hear your story.” Shamus appeared to have activated his sympathetic mode. His voice had changed. Gone both gushing and admiring. “You found the vic, Tiffany Blake. Tell me what it was like. Tell me if you think there is a copycat at work in this town. If you think⁠—”

“If you want the possibility of talking with me,” Shelby surprised Hunter with her flat response, “then you go and you get rid of the reporters at the back of this hotel. Hunter and I leave, and you make sure no one follows us.” She extended her hand toward Shamus. “Give me your card. I may call you back later for that chat.”

“I, um, don’t have a card.” He grimaced. “Like, who has those? I’m on all the socials. It’s easy to find me.” His eyebrows—which appeared carefully trimmed—did a little dance. “And you’re asking me to get rid of everyone without even promising me an interview? Why would I do that? I could get rid of everyone and then you give me nothing. I could wind up with jack shit for my efforts.”