Ronan caught the stubborn edge in Cyrus's tone. With a knowing smirk, he tapped the tip of his nose. "Mr. Sinclair, you really don't care about Ms. Meyer? Then letting the Sinclair family target her would be genius—a human shield, of sorts. Pretty convenient, don't you think?"

His voice trailed off, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop a good ten degrees.

Cyrus's eyes narrowed to slits, sharp and cold. "Are you seriously suggesting I use a woman as a ...