“Contact Lord,” the older suit ordered.

Ellie visibly stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”

“If he’s your security chief, then you can contact him,” the man said brusquely. “Surely.”

“Of course I can contact him.”

“Do it.”

Ellie practically bristled, and once more Michael had to suppress a grin. Jenny was still struggling in an attempt to reach the back door, as if the men could burst in any minute, but there was no chance of that. Ellie might have a key to his office on the bunch at her waist, but by their rudeness, Jenny had just gained herself a powerful ally. Once annoyed, Ellie was one mean opponent.

But Ellie didn’t refuse to contact him. She gazed at the two men for a long, considering moment, then raised the cell phone at her belt. She dialed, and the phone on Michael’s hip vibrated.

“Shh. It’s okay. They can’t hear us. But stay right here! That’s an order.” He put a hand on Jenny’s hair in reassurance and gently moved her away from him, then pressed her into the chair by his desk. He fixed her with a look, waited until he was sure she wouldn’t argue, and then he pushed the response button on his phone.

“Yes?”

“Michael?”

“I’m right here, Ellie.” There was nothing in his voice to suggest he could see her, and there was nothing in hers to suggest she knew he probably could. “What can I do for you?”

“There are two gentlemen in your office from…” She paused, and Michael saw her lift one of the men’s cards from his hand, then the other. “From the Department of Immigration. A Mr. Harness and his associate, Mr. Gibbs. They’re looking for Mrs. Morrow.”

“For Jenny?” He deliberately spoke loudly, so they’d hear what he said through Ellie’s handpiece. It was lucky he’d checked these screens for soundproofing, he thought. “What do they want with Jenny?”