It’d be his own stupid fault if she did, she thought. How dare he stand there looking so smug and strong and willing to take a bullet for her?
And still he stood there, staring down at her, waiting for…something.
“What is it?” she finally asked when she couldn’t stand another second of tense silence.
Her mouth dried up and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth when he slid his fingertips under her hair and let them rest lightly on the back of her neck. With his thumb, he gently brushed something off her cheek.
Powdered sugar, she realized.
His eyes held hers as he slowly—so, so slowly—lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked off the powdered sugar. Her entire body clenched at the sight of his tongue swiping over his own skin.
Holy. Fuck.
“Delicious. You taste even better than I remember,” he murmured before releasing her and walking away as if he hadn’t just reduced her to a puddle of lust right there in her own damn foyer.
Well, the good news, she supposed, was that her lady bits hadn’t dried up after all, as she had suspected earlier that day. The bad news? The man capable of awakening them was the last man in the world she should trust with her body—or her heart—ever again.
Yep. Seemed about right, given the day she’d had.
Chapter Six
She slammed the door in his face.
Violet would rather risk death than have him in her home. Not exactly a shot in the arm for his ego.
He didn’t blame her, though. It wasn’t like he’d done anything to ingratiate himself with her up until this point.
Maybe that was why he’d jumped at Harper’s offer as quickly as he had. There’d been no hesitation on his part. And he wasn’t even going to try kidding himself about it. The idea of possibly earning redemption for what he’d done to Violet? It was wildly enticing.
Almost as enticing as the woman herself.
Nikolai tossed his duffel bag on the couch next to the halfer, who appeared to be engrossed in some television program. Nikolai barely repressed a snort of disgust. This was the man responsible for Violet’s safety until he’d arrived.
“Leave,” Nikolai told him.
The halfer didn’t take his eyes off the television as he answered, “I go when Harper tells me to go. Not a minute before.”
Nikolai felt a tiny hint of grudging respect for the guy. Not too many men ever refused his direct orders.
Not ones who lived to talk about it, at least.
Violet cleared her throat and stepped in front of him. Her breathing and color were heightened, and she was glaring up at him with an intensity that suggested she wanted to tear him apart.
His little kotehok planned to sharpen her claws on his hide. The idea was way more enticing than it should have been, given their current circumstances.
“We need to talk,” she said through gritted teeth.
He shrugged. “So talk.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Did Harper explain the situation to you?”
He shifted his eyes to the spray-painted death threat on her wall before meeting hers once again. “I’d say it’s pretty clear.”
He could’ve sworn she growled at that point. He couldn’t say if it was his casual tone or his words that vexed her so. All he knew for sure was that a happy Violet was stunningly beautiful. But an angry Violet?
Hot. As. Hell.
“I meant that you’re here to guard me until she can figure out who is threatening me,” she hissed. “That doesn’t give you the right to march in here and start issuing orders to my guests and…and touching me.”
Ah. There it was. She was upset about the powdered sugar. He couldn’t really blame her for that. Honestly, he had no idea what had made him do it. Maybe he wanted to see if he still had the power to fluster her. He used to, before he fucked everything up.
And, if her dazed expression and heightened breathing in the doorway had been any indication, she wasn’t as calm and cool around him as she’d like him to think she was.
Interesting.
“So…no touching?” he asked as innocently as he could manage.
She straightened to her full height, which still only put the top of her head at his shoulder. “No touching.”
His fingers itched with the need to touch her again at the mere suggestion. “You didn’t used to mind me touching you.”
Her icy blue eyes darkened, making him regret the words immediately. He wasn’t here to antagonize her. But the hostility radiating from this straight-backed, tense woman, who wasn’t anything like the Violet he’d known, was seriously mucking up his best intentions.
He held up his hands in surrender as she opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver the verbal blast he so richly deserved. “Forget I said that. You win. No touching. If I can help it.”
Her eyes narrowed and he hastened to add, “Kotehok, I’m to be your guard. I’ll need to be close to you.” God help us both. “I might touch you by accident.” Or on purpose. His self-control was clearly shit where she was concerned.
She took a deep breath and he cursed himself for letting his gaze fall to her chest. The rise and fall of her breasts under the sweater she wore was damn near mesmerizing.
He was never going to survive being close to her and not touching her. He’d been a damn fool to volunteer for this job.
Time for full disclosure, he supposed. “Look, Violet, I am truly sorry this is happening to you. The last thing in the world I want to do is make you uncomfortable or make your life harder. I just really want to keep you safe. It’s the least I can do.” He bent at the knees so that they were at eye level. “Will you let me? Please?”
And just like that, her anger deflated. He saw it in those expressive eyes of hers, and in the way her shoulders dropped, no longer looking like they were attached to her ears. It was as if the truth and sincerity of his words melted all the starch out of her spine. Or, maybe the stress of the day was finally beginning to wear down her resistance.
Whatever it was, it was a victory and he’d take it.
She released a long, hard breath and rubbed her temple with one hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” she murmured. “I should be thanking you for volunteering to keep me safe and instead I’m arguing with you about stupid stuff.”
Immediately forgetting the “no touching” rule, he grabbed her hand and squeezed her icy fingers with his own. “You’ve had a terrible, long day. Your behavior is completely normal. And you don’t have to thank me for anything. I want to be here.”
He needed to be here, if he was being honest with himself. He was fine with staying away from her when he thought it was what she needed, what was better for her. But now? She needed him, and he’d be damned if he’d ever let her down again.
Her eyes moved from her hand in his, up to his face. She looked apprehensive and maybe a little nervous, but he noticed she didn’t try to pull her hand away. Not a huge victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Again, he’d take it.
“What about your new job?” she asked.
“You’re my job right now.”
Which was true. The Council had spoken to his PO and employer on his behalf and they’d granted him permission to stick with Violet as long as necessary.
Not that he wouldn’t have done exactly what he was doing now without their permission. Breaking the rules seemed to be in his DNA. Anyone at Sentry who’d worked to reprogram him could most likely attest to that.
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Harper told me what you said about…dying for me,” she said quietly. “Did you mean it?”
He’d said a lot of things to Harper, but Nikolai knew by her shy tone what she was getting at. She sounded so lost that he wanted to kill someone. Preferably whoever was threatening her, but at the moment, he wasn’t feeling too picky. He’d gladly kill anyone who’d ever wronged her in her life.
And he wouldn’t allow himself to think too hard about how he was, in fact, a pers
on who’d wronged her.
Nikolai cleared his throat. “I did. I already told you, Violet. I’d do anything for you.”
Her eyes flew to his, searching. Gauging his truthfulness, he knew. He let her look her fill. He had nothing left to hide from her. Everything he had—his body, his heart, his life—was hers if she wanted it.
It always had been. Since the moment they first met and she smiled at him, he was lost. She was sunshine and sweet dreams and hope. Everything he wasn’t. Everything he’d ever wanted, but assumed he’d never have.
He wondered what the hell she saw when she looked at him. Killer? Kidnapper? Liar? A man she’d wanted at one point? Someone she could see any kind of future with?
She let out a little gasp and that’s when he realized he was still holding her hand, absently running his thumb over her knuckles. At some point, he’d also tugged her closer. The scent of her shampoo—limes and coconuts—drifted up to him and his mouth started watering like Pavlov’s fucking dog.
Violet’s eyes dropped to his mouth. Her tongue snaked out, dragging along her bottom lip and Nikolai barely bit back a groan. She was killing him and she had no idea.
“Hey, Harper’s getting impatient over here! You two gonna kiss, or what?”
Violet flinched at Benny’s voice, which rang out like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet room. She jerked her hand out of his grasp and averted her eyes, looking guilty as hell.
Nikolai’s hands went to his hips and he turned a glare on Benny, who was holding up his phone.
“You have Harper on speaker, don’t you?” Violet asked, her voice breaking on the last word.
Benny nodded, his eyes bouncing between Nikolai and Violet like he was watching a ping pong match, not a trace of remorse in his expression. “Oh, yeah. You guys were way more interesting than my show. And when I told Harper what was going on, there was no way she was lettin’ me hang up, you know?”
Nikolai turned back to Violet. “Can I throw him out now?”
“Yes, please,” Violet said primly.
Benny’s last words as Nikolai grabbed him by the collar and tossed him out the door were, “Aw, man, come on. That shit was just gettin’ good.”
Yes, Nikolai thought, it sure was. And that’s why I’m throwing your ass out.
Chapter Seven
It took Violet nearly an hour of standing in front of her mirror doing deep breathing exercises and offering herself positive affirmations before she was able to calm down and accept her new reality.
She had a stalker who’d left her a few death threats and broken into her home. So what? Harper Hall was on the case, and Violet had yet to see a case that Harper and her team couldn’t resolve quickly.
Until Harper solved the case, she had a live-in bodyguard. So what? She’d grown up with three sisters in a 700-square-foot apartment. Privacy wasn’t essential to her survival.
She’d almost kissed her live-in bodyguard, who just happened to be the guy who’d kidnapped her and tried to kill one of her patients that one time. So…
Well, that one was a little harder to “so what.”
Kissing Nikolai would be a bad idea. No, bad idea was an understatement. Kissing Nikolai was the high priestess of bad ideas. The bad idea to which all other bad ideas aspired to be when they grew up.
The bad idea that couldn’t happen, under any circumstances.
Not ever again, anyway.
She needed to focus on keeping her Stockholm syndrome at bay, and her bodyguard had to focus on, well, guarding her body. It was just as simple as that.
I’d do anything for you.
“Gah,” she muttered, taking a moment to splash some cold water on her face.
How the hell was she supposed to not kiss him when he was so close all the time, saying such perfect, heart-wrenching things, smelling like heaven, invading her personal space with all those taut, tan muscles that she just wanted to trace with the tip of her tongue …
Violet splashed more cold water on her face and didn’t bother to stop it from dripping down into her shirt. At this point, she could use all the help she could get when it came to cooling off.
“It’s just attraction. Chemistry,” she told her reflection as she dabbed a few water droplets off her face with a hand towel. “Chemistry isn’t everything. You can beat this…thing.”
“What thing?”
Violet shrieked at the unexpected voice and whirled around, tossing her damp hand towel at the intruder like it was a grenade she’d just pulled the pin out of.
Nikolai stood in the doorway of her bathroom, stone-faced, hands on his hips. His gaze followed the hand towel as it smacked him in the center of his chest, then plopped to the floor at his feet. When his eyes lifted to hers once again, one of his dark brows lifted in confusion.
Violet closed her eyes and put a hand over her pounding heart, which seemed to be keeping time to a death metal song only it could hear. “Jesus Christ, you startled me!”
“And you didn’t have anything better to throw at me than a towel?” He glanced behind her. “Next time someone sneaks up on you in the bathroom, go for the hair spray. Aim for the eyes. It’s almost as effective as Mace.”
She scowled at him. “Well, lucky for you, I didn’t. I could’ve really hurt you.”
And then he did something she’d never seen him do before. He laughed.
Flustered by that deep, rich, sex-soaked laugh and those damned dimples of his, Violet shifted her focus to brush a few invisible wrinkles off her blouse. She sniffed. “I fail to see why that’s funny.”
“You couldn’t hurt me, kotehok,” he said when his laugh had died down to a chuckle. But just when she was going to slam him with a retort about how women could be every bit as effective at self-defense maneuvers as men, he quietly added, “Not physically, anyway.”
Her heart squeezed hard. To think maybe she had the same kind of power over him that he had over her? It was…well, it was terrifying, frankly. She swallowed the lump that had somehow found its way into her throat. “Nikolai, I—”
Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the shrill ring of her doorbell. A timely interruption, she decided. With her emotions as scattered as they were, there was absolutely no telling what she might have blurted out to him if given the chance.
Saved by the bell.
That’s what she thought, at least, until she saw who was on the other side of the peephole in her front door.
Chapter Eight
Miles.
Oh, Jesus, this was going to be awkward.
“It’s OK,” she told Nikolai, who’d stayed glued to her side all the way to the door. “It’s my friend, Miles.”
A muscle in Nikolai’s jaw jumped, but other than that, his expression gave away nothing. She envied that about him. She’d bet he was one hell of an awesome poker player.
Violet took a deep breath and opened the door. “Miles, how nice to see you.”
She let out a surprised squeak when Miles grabbed her and pulled her into a lung-squishing hug. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nikolai’s body tense up as he took a warning step in her direction. She gave him a small shake of her head, and although his frown was grim as death, he crossed his arms over his chest and stayed put.
“Oh, my darling Violet,” Miles said into her hair. “I was so worried about you. Are you alright?”
OK, first of all, the hug was weird. Miles had never been the touchy-feely type, nor was she. They’d been on a handful of dates and hadn’t really progressed past a polite goodnight peck on the cheek.
And second of all…my darling Violet? Since when was an actuary so full of purple prose? She suddenly felt like the heroine in an ‘80s bodice-ripper with Fabio on the cover.
Not that there was really anything wrong with those. She’d certainly read more than her fair share of them back in the day. In fact—
Violet gave herself a sharp mental slap across the face. Focus, damn it!
Carefully extracting herself from h
is overly exuberant embrace, Violet stepped back and offered him what she hoped was a warm smile. “Of course I’m alright, Miles. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Miles pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up with his index finger and fixed her with a stern look. “I heard about the break-in on my police scanner. You should have called me immediately.”
Was it a bad sign for their relationship that calling him had never once entered her mind? Probably. “I’m sorry, Miles. I should’ve let you know what was going on. But I’m perfectly fine. My friend Harper has the entire investigation under control.”
Miles’s nose wrinkled up at the mention of Harper. They’d met once, and Violet had gotten the distinct impression that neither party had been impressed by the other. “Well,” he said, “I’d feel more comfortable if you’d allow me to help with the investigation. After all, I’m sure your friend isn’t aware that 59.6% of burglaries of single females are committed by someone the victim knows. I could definitely help define the suspect list.”
A rough noise that sounded distinctly like a snort came from Nikolai, drawing Miles’s attention to him for the first time. Miles’s brows scrunched down in confusion as his gaze moved between Violet and Nikolai. “What’s going on, Violet? Who’s this?”
Violet wasn’t entirely sure she appreciated his tone. He sounded decidedly judge-y that she was with another man. Going on a few dates didn’t equal monogamy. She’d certainly never misled Miles in any way.
But now wasn’t the time to argue that point, Violet decided. Not with Nikolai standing there, all tall and dark and brooding, glaring daggers at Miles.
“Miles,” Violet said, “this is Nikolai Aleyev. He’s working for Harper at the moment. He’s the—” Man who kidnapped me that one time? Embodiment of a walking wet dream? Guy who says he’d do anything for me and turns my knees to jelly? “—bodyguard Harper hired to stay with me until the case is closed.”
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 84
