Eleanor’s POV

“You’re supposed to be outside the door.”

Marcus didn’t answer right away. He stood three feet from me in the late-night hotel suite, rain streaking the floor-to-ceiling glass behind him, the city lights smeared into gold and black. His dark suit still carried the faint scent of the evening’s press of bodies and perfume. Earpiece in. Shoulders locked in that rigid, professional line I had watched for three months and wanted to break open with my teeth.

“Protocol changes when the principal is alone and the threat assessment is elevated,” he said, voice low and even. “You’re safer with me in the room.”

I let the silk robe...