What He Protects (What He Wants, Book Six) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Hannah Ford

 
 
 
 
    WHAT
HE PROTECTS (What He Wants, Book Six)
    Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights
reserved.   This book is a work of
fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  

 
 
 
    Charlotte

 
    It bothered me that I knew exactly how to
get to the police station.   In
fact, it almost seemed normal now, walking in and seeing the same receptionist
who had been there when Noah was questioned.
    She was decidedly less friendly
today.   This time, there were no
private looks about how hot Noah was, no professional tone or polite
attitude.   She gave me a sigh when
she saw me, and acted put-out when I told her I was there to speak with someone
who’d just been arrested.  
    “Name?” she asked.
    “Mine or the, um, sus—person’s?”
    “Suspect’s.”
    “Noah Cutler.”   I’m sure I was just being paranoid, but I felt like she
could somehow tell I had a personal interest in the case.
    “Are you his lawyer?” she asked, looking
me up and down skeptically.   Not
that I could blame her.   I didn’t
look like a lawyer.
    “No,” I said.   “I’m a law student.   But I’m part of his legal team.”
    She shook her head.   “Did he call his lawyer?”
    “Of course he called his lawyer.”   It wasn’t technically true.   I was the one who’d   called Professor Worthington, explaining
to him what had happened while I stood on a busy street corner.   He hadn’t seemed shocked or alarmed at
all – he just said ‘I’ll meet you there’ and then he’d hung up.
    “Well, then you can wait over there,” the
receptionist said.   “Until the lawyer gets here.”
    She said “lawyer” very pointedly, like
since I wasn’t one, I had no business being there.   I sighed and sat down in one of the folding chairs in the
lobby.   I rummaged through my bag
and pulled out a notebook.   But
there was nothing for me to make notes on.
    I could have opened my iPad and tried to
catch up on my reading for school, but I was too antsy.   Noah had been arrested.   There was going to be a trial.   And evidence.   The prosecutor would dig deep into Noah’s life and ask him
all kinds of questions.
    If anyone found out about our
relationship, I’d be subpoenaed.   They’d ask me about our sex life, if Noah had ever gotten rough with me,
if he’d ever hurt me.   And even
though he hadn’t ever
hurt me, I knew enough about the law to realize they would make it look like he
had.
    The prosecutor would ply me with specific
questions, like if Noah had ever left marks on my wrists, if he’d ever spanked
me so hard it made my skin red.   And Noah had done those things -- not in the way
they’d try to paint it, but it wouldn’t matter.   They’d ask me, and they wouldn’t understand about the sexual
part of it, about the domination and submission.   Hell, I   didn’t
even understand most of it.  
    If I lied, I could get arrested for
perjury.   And if that happened, I
could kiss my law career good bye.
    What
a huge fucking mess, I
thought to myself.   Why couldn’t I
have just fallen in love with some normal law student, the kind of guy who
would study hard and get good grades and then take some boring job in corporate
law?   Why did I have to get involved
with an older man, one with a penchant for BDSM and a tortured past?
    I pulled out my phone and watched the
second hand on the clock icon slowly move around the screen, willing it to move
faster.   Professor Worthington
should have been here by now.   I
thought about calling him, but I didn’t want to be a pest or seem too eager.
Now that Noah had been officially arrested, it was even more important for me
to make sure I stayed involved in his case.
    I got up and paced the room, because the
energy inside of me needed somewhere to go -- I was starting to feel like I was
going to scream.
    “You know, he was probably taken to
Central Booking,” the receptionist piped up helpfully.
    I turned