“You don’t have to bother.”

“It’s no bother.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he crossed to the door, opened it, and waited.

She propped a hand on her hip and squinted at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not giving me a choice?”

Because he wasn’t.

But Eve wouldn’t tolerate high-handedness. That much was already clear to him. Better to reposition his “offer” and let her make the smart, rational choice—which she would, given everything he knew about her.

“If you prefer to walk out alone, I’m not going to stop you—but I don’t know why you’d turn down an armed escort.” He pushed his jacket aside to reveal his Sig Sauer.

Her gaze dropped to his weapon. Returned to his face. “Excellent point. I’m ready whenever you are.” She picked up the tote bag from beside her chair and eased past him.

The ride down in the elevator they shared with several other people was silent, but as they walked to her car she spoke again. “They do have decent security in the garage, you know.”

Given the downtown location and the crime rate in the city, that wouldn’t surprise him.

But decent wasn’t adequate if someone was determined to get in.

And he suspected she knew that.

His assumption was validated moments later when a car backfired and she jerked, losing her grip on her tote.

After giving the garage a fast sweep, he bent to retrieve the bag.

She did the same.

Their heads bumped.

“Ow!” She pulled back, rubbing her temple.

“Sorry about that.” He handed her the tote and did another swift scan.

Nothing was amiss.

“I must be a little jumpy.” She clenched her fingers around the handle of the bag.

“That’s not a negative in light of everything that’s happened. It means you’re on alert and ready to react if the situation warrants it.”

“Or overreact.” She pointed to his forehead. “You may end up with a bruise once that red spot fades.”

“I’ve dealt with worse injuries.” He took her arm and guided her forward, picking up his pace. “Let’s get out of the traffic.”

She stayed close while they completed the short walk to her car—and he tried without much success to ignore the faint, spicy hint wafting from her hair.

“Thanks for the escort.” She fished her keys out of her bag and hit the button on her autolock fob.

“Happy to do it. I’ll be in touch if we uncover anything worthwhile—and let me know if there are new developments on your end. You have my direct number, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t hesitate to use it, night or day. I don’t punch a clock.”

“Thanks.” She tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel.

Say goodbye, Lange.

He retreated a step. “Lock your doors and drive safe.”