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Chapter Seven

  Brianna shook her head in adamant denial. “That is so not going to happen,” she retorted, her eyes flashing fire.

  “The hotel is completely sold out. Sharing my room is the most logical solution. I’ll bunk on the sofa, and you can have my bed. You’ll be safe with me. Scout’s honor,” he grinned, calling his dimples into action.

  She wanted to argue with him, but when he smiled at her like that, she became putty in his hands. She gave righteous indignation a halfhearted effort. “There’s no reason I can’t sleep right here, on this sofa.”

  “Look around, Brianna,” he told her gently. “The room is trashed. Clearly, you can’t stay here.”

  She had to concede he was right. The acrid smell of smoke hung in the air, and glass shards and debris littered the hallway between the bedroom and the ensuite bath.

  But the thought of sharing his room shook her already-rattled composure worse than the explosion had. The blast would seem like a minor speed bump in comparison to spending a night in enforced proximity to that man. What if she couldn’t continue to stave off her growing attraction to him?

  “And so what if you can’t?” her impish little inner voice asked. “Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the pull and surrender to it.”

  The idea, once planted, quickly took root. The brandy she’d recently consumed had quelled the jitters that had made her shy away from Luke’s earlier advances at dinner. Maybe a no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached fling was exactly what she needed.

  Time had given her the perspective she’d needed to realize she hadn’t really loved Peter. She’d simply been enamored with the idea of finding her very own happily ever after. Well, she was cured of that. She had no interest in treading that particular path again anytime in the near future. Or maybe ever.

  But where in her relationship-avoidance plan was it written she had to give up the pleasure of a purely physical relationship? Sure, she’d kicked her foolish, romanticized ideas of white-picket fences and marital bliss to the curb when she’d stumbled across that totally unforgettable and unforgiveable scene a week shy of her wedding. Catching Peter and his business partner making love in her bedroom had effectively smashed her rose-colored glasses when it came to her happily-ever-after fantasy. But she was still a woman, and she still had needs. Who better to satisfy them than her soon-to-be roommate?

  Love never needed to enter the equation. This time around, it would be all about unadulterated desire and satisfying physical compulsions. And Luke would be the perfect playmate.

  “Okay,” she caved, flashing a smile that held more than just a touch of Mona-Lisa-ness. “I’ll get my things.”

  Second thoughts didn’t begin showering down around her until she was alone with Luke in his suite. Their suite, now. Even though the room’s dimensions were the same as the one they’d left, the space felt smaller because she was hyperaware of his presence. Did she really have the bravado to seduce him?

  Luke completely misinterpreted the reason for her discomfiture. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise I’m not the kind of guy who pounces on women like the Big Bad Wolf. I think it’s safe to say we’ve already determined that I can behave myself.”

  Said the Big Bad Wolf himself, she thought.

  But the odd sensation thrumming through her veins wasn’t trepidation. She knew she had nothing to fear from this wolf’s huffing and puffing. It was all a smoke screen. The man behind it intrigued her. Attracted her.

  And it was time to do something about it, before she lost her nerve again. Luke turned his back to her as he transformed the sofa into a makeshift bed, giving her an enticing view of his sexy derriere.

  It’s definitely time to do some huffing and puffing of my own.

  “But what if I’ve decided I don’t want you to behave?” she asked.

  Luke froze in the middle of tucking a blanket in. As bull’s-eyes went, Brianna’s huskily murmured query was a doozy. She’d scored a direct hit on his libido. Before he could recover, she followed up with a second zinger.

  The rasp of a zipper—her zipper—ricocheted through the silence. His head snapped up, and he turned to see her dress fall to the floor.

  She hadn’t worn a bra beneath the garment, and she stood gloriously, unselfconsciously naked before him, save for a scrap of lace meant to pass for a thong. He promptly forgot to breathe.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he grated out through clenched teeth, fighting to tamp down the arousal raging through him.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” she queried in mock innocence. “I’m getting ready for bed.”

  And then, with a seductive little shimmy, she crossed the line. She slipped the flirty bit of lace off her pert little behind, making it impossible for him to cling to the thin vestige of control he’d managed to salvage.

  He should walk away, but his feet refused to cooperate with the rational part of his psyche. His brain was stalled on rapture, totally caught up in the vision before him. The moonlight streaming through the windows kissed her luscious curves, highlighting a masterpiece of enticing dips and valleys. She was every man’s fantasy in the flesh, and he couldn’t tear his eyes off her.

  He was tough, but he wasn’t bulletproof. His feet moved of their own accord to close the distance between them. Running his hands down the silken softness of her arms, he reveled in the light contact before drawing her close.

  Just one taste, he promised himself, mating his lips with hers.

  But one taste wasn’t enough. After their lips parted, he returned to savor her again, greedily devouring her sweetness.

  Brianna met and matched his hunger, purring her encouragement, urging him to take what he wanted. Her response only inflamed him, further fueling the fire. He was consumed by the need to seize what his body was demanding. He ached to sink into her and to feel her intoxicating heat clench around him as he claimed her as his own.

  But he couldn’t. He was here to keep her safe, not to take advantage of her. With a frustrated groan, he pulled himself back from that dangerous precipice and stepped away from temptation.

  “This can’t happen,” he ground out, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “Of course it can,” she countered. “I want you. You want me. Like you said at dinner, it’s simple. You’re just overthinking things.”

  “No. What I’m doing is respecting that ‘all business’ memorandum you issued earlier. There won’t be anything simple about this when you regret having thrown yourself at me tomorrow.”

  “Who says I’ll regret it?” she tossed back saucily, closing the distance between them to press her breasts against the tantalizing heat of his chest.

  He knew she had to be aware of his arousal; it was pressing hard and heavy against her thighs, betraying that he wasn’t as unaffected by her as he claimed to be. But when she moved to undo his belt buckle, he stilled her busy fingers.

  “Someone needs to think rationally here. You’re not making that easy.”

  She ignored his words, boldly locking her lips to his. He gave in to her sensual assault for a moment, losing himself in the sensation of her sweet, sexy mouth making love to his. He let her hold the advantage a few moments longer, then wrestled control of their sensual warfare away, taking charge again.

  With a determined growl, he breached the barrier of her lips to wage a counterattack within the warm, welcoming recesses of her mouth. Their tongues dueled, sending an overwhelming wave of desire washing over him. He matched her passion and doubled it, making it clear this wasn’t a game anymore.

  The realization brought his unchecked ardor into line in a millisecond.

  What am I doing?

  Brianna uttered a vehement mewl of protest when he pulled away as abruptly as he’d caved to temptation. “I can’t take what you’re offering,” he spit out in frustration.

  Confusion swam through her beautiful blue eyes. “But I thought you wanted me?”

  �
��I do!” Doing the honorable thing was killing him. No woman had ever affected him so deeply before. “God knows there’s nothing I want more than to take you to bed right now. But just a couple of hours ago, you were insisting you didn’t want there to be anything but business between us. This is just the shock of the blast and the brandy talking. I won’t take advantage of that. I’m going to go take a shower. You should get some rest.”

  She stared at him in stunned rejection, but he ignored her and headed for the bathroom. He turned the shower knob all the way to cold and stood under the freezing spray until his teeth chattered. Despite the self-imposed water torture, the embers of passion she’d stoked to an outright blaze still scorched him. Ten minutes later, he gave up, stepped out and toweled off.

  When he returned to the bedroom, there were icicles in her eyes. “I know you’re angry at me right now,” he murmured. “But trust me, you’ll feel differently in the morning.”

  “And if I don’t?” she challenged.

  As much as he wanted to brush off her query, he found himself giving it serious thought. Getting involved with her on a physical level would complicate things to the umpteenth degree. On the other hand, it would make sticking close to her a great deal simpler. The benefits would balance the additional risk, he reasoned. And he could handle the potential complications.

  Decision made, he met her inquiring gaze head-on, determination and desire fizzing in his blood.

  “If you don’t, and if I’m certain there are no extenuating factors clouding your judgment, then I can assure you I won’t be walking away from you the next time. But this is too important for there to be any doubt. I’ll wait until you tell me you’re ready to take our relationship to the next level.” He settled on the sofa in the other room and turned off the light. “Now get some rest.”

  Silence reigned for long, drawn-out moments. He assumed she’d fallen asleep until her sweet voice broke the stillness.

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  He punched his pillow and sighed. It was going to be another sleepless night.

  Chapter Eight

  Brianna was still sleeping soundly when Luke abandoned his makeshift bed on the sofa at the crack of dawn to check on her. Slipping out to the balcony, he closed the door quietly behind him. At least one of them was getting some rest.

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to relieve the gritty-sandpaper sensation lodged there. He was exhausted, but there was no sense in carrying on the pretense of slumber when his body’s unrelenting demand for satisfaction made sleep an impossibility.

  Last night’s cold shower hadn’t cooled the arousal blazing through his blood like an out-of-control wildfire. Even now, hours later, it bubbled through his veins in a rolling boil.

  He ploughed a hand through his hair, further ruffling the already-tousled strands. He needed to stay focused on his mission, a mission that did not involve fantasizing about keeping Brianna’s delectable body “covered” in an entirely different way than this assignment mandated. His thoughts had no business transgressing there. Directing his wayward musings back to the job at hand, he fished his cell phone out of his robe pocket and called Liz.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him, her voice nauseatingly cheerful even at the ungodly hour. “Getting an early start on the day, I see.”

  “I was a little too preoccupied to sleep,” he grumbled. “I thought I’d check in to see if you’ve received any updates on the bombing.”

  “No. But I’m certain the strike on Dimitriou’s daughter’s room wasn’t a coincidence. It’s a good thing you were there to derail it. It could have been much worse.”

  Luke breathed an exasperated sigh. “I should have caught him, Liz. I was on full alert, but the fireworks show threw me. I blew it.”

  “You didn’t blow it. The situation would have been far worse if you hadn’t spotted the intruder and frightened him off. It’s highly likely the bomb was just a diversion. Once he realized you’d made him, he set if off so he could escape. There was no way you could have predicted he’d do something like that.”

  “That doesn’t excuse my sloppiness. I should have spotted him before he had a chance to get that close in the first place. There can’t be another Tanya on my watch,” he asserted, the proclamation resonating with heartfelt determination and raw emotion.

  “I only have three words to say in response to that,” Liz retorted. “Not. Your. Fault.” She enunciated the syllables with exaggerated slowness, pausing dramatically between each one. “For starters, Tanya wasn’t a client you were guarding. She was a woman you cared deeply about. You had no idea she was in danger, nor could you have. She lied to keep what she was mixed up in hidden from you. Even if you had been cognizant of your girlfriend’s double life, you were too close to her to protect her effectively. But this situation is entirely different. You’re aware of the threat, and you’re not emotionally invested like you were with Tanya. Brianna is just a package.”

  “You’re right,” he sighed. So why, then, did the affirmation sound so weak to his ears? Could it be he wasn’t as emotionally immune to this package as he professed to be?

  If he were completely unaffected, he would have reacted differently to last night’s threat. The panic that had surged through him when the blast went off in Brianna’s room wasn’t the reaction of a detached professional. She was getting under his skin, and that was totally unacceptable.

  “What I would like to know,” Liz murmured, “is what the attacker would have done if you hadn’t messed up his plans?”

  “My guess is that he still would have set the bomb off as a scare tactic. No doubt Mendacci hired him to make it clear to Philip he’s serious about going after his family. It’s Mendacci’s not-so-subtle way of letting him know what will happen if he doesn’t come back into line.”

  “That’s as good an assumption as any.”

  “I’ve convinced Brianna to travel with me. That should throw her pursuer off the scent a bit.”

  “That doesn’t mean there won’t be trouble,” Liz cautioned.

  “I’ll be on guard. If it appears we’re being tailed, I have a plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  “We’ll travel to Maine in my helicopter.”

  A strangled sound escaped Liz’s throat. “You’re going to need a plan C, then. You didn’t read the dossier, did you?”

  “You know I just scan them for the highlights. I rely on my finely tuned intuition to fill in the blanks. Why?”

  “I don’t suppose your finely tuned intuition told you your package is terrified of flying? Airborne is not in her vocabulary.”

  “I’ll hatch a back-up plan to the back-up plan, then. No worries.”

  “I never said I was worried. Despite your aversion to doing your homework, I know Brianna is in the best of hands.”

  “Thanks. You’re a good friend, Liz.”

  “You forgot to tack on the ‘awesome boss’ part.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Okay, wise guy. I’ve got a briefing to get to. Stay safe out there.”

  Luke couldn’t help but chuckle. His affinity for taking risks was second only to Liz’s penchant for dangerous, by-the-skin-of-her-teeth maneuvers.

  “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

  Stepping back into the suite, he checked on Brianna again. She was still dead to the world, so he took the opportunity to shower and change before ordering coffee from room service.

  He finally heard her stir when a knock on the door announced his morning caffeine infusion had arrived. After ascertaining that the waiter was alone, he opened the door to the young man and accepted the coffee service from him. Once he’d tipped him and sent him on his way, Luke poked his head around the bedroom door.

  “Good morning. How’s your head?”

  Brianna blinked at him drowsily, still half-asleep. “Fine, thanks. What time is it?”


  “A little after eight.”

  “Ugh! I didn’t mean to sleep so late. You should have woken me.”

  For a moment, he didn’t reply. He was too distracted by the view. The sheet had slipped, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of creamy curves revealed by the low neckline of her nightgown.

  “You needed the rest.”

  He saw the exact moment the last remnants of sleep lifted, leaving her cognizant of the intimacy of the situation. Her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink, and she tugged the sheet back up to chin level.

  “I shouldn’t be lazing the day away. We have work to do.”

  He had to give her points for recovering quickly. “It’s okay. We have plenty of time to make the drive to Maine. We’re not on a rigid schedule. Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’d love some. Give me ten minutes to grab a quick shower first, okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll wait for you out in the sitting area.”

  He hadn’t taken her ten-minute estimate seriously, so he was surprised when she emerged from the shower two minutes shy of her self-imposed deadline. She’d donned a tailored black pencil skirt and a brightly patterned silk top with a V-neck that put an alluring amount of her gorgeous curves on display. Needing to focus on anything but the enticing fullness of her breasts, he distracted himself by pouring her a cup of coffee.

  She eagerly accepted the fragrant, steamy mug. “Thanks. I can’t make it through the morning without my java fix.”

  “I share your vice,” he confessed with a self-depreciating smile, pouring a second cup for himself.

  She took a sip of the brew and sighed in appreciation. “Perfect! Lots of cream and a little sugar. Exactly how I like it. How did you know?”

  “I was paying attention at dinner last night.”

  “Detail-oriented, are we?”

  In order for his clients to remain safe, he needed to be in touch with every nuance of his environment. Sometimes even things that appeared innocuous on the surface could be precursors to an attack. “Guilty as charged. It’s my job to be observant.”

  Since he couldn’t illustrate his point using his experiences as a covert bodyguard, he turned to his editorial role, instead. “Readers tend to frown on mistakes and incorrect information. Miss a typo, say like an extra t tacked onto the word ‘but,’ and suddenly a story takes on an entirely different slant.”