by Shayla Black
blankets. Thank goodness Jolie had never tried to make him sleep on that miniature-sized chaise.
The younger sister bit the inside of her cheek, looking uncertain. “Wait. Jolie would kill me if she knew I was saying this but I think you’re right. My intuition says something dangerous is going on. She knows she should listen to you. My sister has always been so fearless, the leader in every situation. She had to be. Me and my siblings all have different dads. None of them were ever around, and Mom was always working multiple jobs to make ends meet. Jolie was nine when she started parenting Austin and me. She’s so damn independent because she’s used to calling the shots. Because of her dad, she refuses to want someone in her life more than they want her.”
It made sense, certainly. As a girl, Jolie had craved the father who hadn’t shown any interest in her. So she’d learned to stand on her own two feet, proven to the world that she was just fine without him, and distanced herself from every man so none would have the opportunity to hurt her. “I understand.”
“She’s not trying to be difficult,” Karis defended her older sister. “She’s afraid. I think you must have really gotten to her last night.”
The feeling was mutual. “I’ll handle it.”
“I know what you told me about your no-repeat rule, and I’m guessing that means you’re not looking for a relationship. If that’s the case, then leave Jolie alone. She claims to be perfectly happy single but deep down, in places where she won’t even admit it to herself, she wants love. You could really hurt her if you slept with her again and walked away. That’s why she’s avoiding you.”
Every word out of Karis’s mouth was heartbreakingly honest, and Heath couldn’t fault the girl for making so many astute observations and wanting to protect her sister.
“I see.” Heath wasn’t sure what to do about Jolie. Circumstance had forced them together. Well, that wasn’t precisely true. It had thrown them together but he couldn’t simply leave because knowing Jolie only made him want her more. “I’ll look after her.”
“She knows you’re hurting, too. I mean because of . . . your wife.” Now Karis bit her lip, looking decidedly guilty. “I did a little digging about you yesterday. My sister was angry but I sent her the report I’d compiled and . . .” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I had no right to pry.”
Heath couldn’t very well fault her when he looked into the background of nearly everyone he met. “She knows about Anna?”
“Yeah.”
Heath didn’t like it but the damage was done. “Thank you for being honest. Sleep well.”
Karis wanted to ask if he was angry; she wore the question all over her face. But she didn’t speak it. “Night.”
Back in the family room, Heath felt exposed. Anna’s death was something very private he never discussed with anyone. The only person he’d ever shared his feelings with about that terrible afternoon was Myles Beaker, his partner during their MI5 days. His best friend at the time. Myles had lost his wife to the same senseless crime. He was the only other person in the world who understood what it was like to have woken up that morning happily married and thinking he held the world by the tail—and then have everything snatched away in a moment.
Shoving the memory aside, Heath retrieved the pillow and blanket Jolie had left him. Now he had to deal with the first woman to make him truly feel something in seven years. The only one stubborn enough to demand her independence when someone had his target on her back.
After tonight, she would understand the new order of things. Maybe they both would.
As he tucked the pillow under his arm and slung the quilt over his shoulder, he headed toward her bedroom, ready for battle. No doubt, that’s exactly what he’d have on his hands.
Heath shut her door and locked it behind him. He’d barely set his pillow and blanket on the chair in her room and doffed everything but his underwear when he heard the shower taps turn off.
Setting his weapon on her nightstand, he sat on her bed, back propped against her padded headboard, fingers laced over his abs, and waited.
As she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of perfumed steam, Jolie spotted him and stopped short, clutching her towel to her naked body.
“I said you could sleep on the sofa.”
“I heard you. But when it comes to safety, you don’t make the rules. You agreed on that. So I alone say what’s necessary to protect you. Today, you disregarded me completely.”
Heath tried to ignore the water gleaming down her velvety shoulders and sleek thighs in shimmering drops. Damn difficult when she looked so beautiful all scrubbed clean, hair slicked back. She had nothing to hide behind now—no clothes, no makeup, no inky hair curling around her face. Only the starchiness of her attitude.
The alpha male inside him wanted her to know that he believed in her. She had the power and conviction to conquer the world. But he wanted to be the man who commanded her body, her laughter, her—
Heath halted that train of thought completely. It was dangerous and derailed him from the point he must make. Jolie was his temporary employer and they’d had a one-night stand. He had to stay focused. Feelings were inconsequential. But as long as he was doing his utmost to save her life, she’d better fucking listen.
“And I apologized,” she reminded. “You made some good points I hadn’t considered. I promised not to worry my sister or put others in danger again. We have nothing more to say, and I want you out of my room.”
“I won’t touch you, if that’s what you want. But I refuse to leave.”
“You’re not staying here tonight.” Her lips flattened into a stubborn line.
Her defiance made him itch to toss her across his lap and let his palm have a go at her pert ass. He would never spank her against her will. He suspected her body would melt for it, but that fast, sharp mind would reject the notion. He definitely needed to set aside his urge and find another tactic. But the biting panic he’d felt during those minutes he’d been unable to find her wouldn’t fade away.
“Do you understand the role of a bodyguard? If not, I’ll be happy to take half the blame. Perhaps I didn’t properly explain the concept, so let’s resolve that now.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not an idiot.”
“No, but you’re a very stubborn woman.” Heath said nothing more, merely stood and strolled to her closet, finding what he wanted immediately hanging from a colorful rack on the back of the door.
“Why are you rifling through my things?”
“To make a point.” He wrapped a silky scarf in a vibrant shade of blue around his hand and stalked in her direction. “There are consequences for the disappearing act you pulled this afternoon. Do whatever you need to be ready for bed. You have five minutes.”
“What? No! I still have to go over my presentation for Gardner again. I’ve got more fact-checking to finish, to make sure the details are absolutely correct, and—”
“Unless he’s too busy wining and dining you into bed to notice your presentation, Gardner will be more than impressed. Get ready. Five minutes.”
Jolie seemed to forget she was mostly naked when anger took over. “Listen, you high-handed bastard. It’s my business so I get to decide when my presentation is done. Not you.”
If she wanted to stay awake, that didn’t dent his plans in the least. “As long as you’ve done everything but turn out the light when you come to bed, that’s fine. Four minutes now. Ticktock.”
She gave him a loud huff. “Fine. Put my scarf back.”
Heath fully expected her to grab a nightie from a drawer, retreat to the bathroom, then avoid all further contact with him tonight.
He should never try to guess what Jolie would do next.
She meandered back to the bathroom. He heard the rustling of her towel, then the lights flipped off. She emerged again stark naked. He tried not to gape at how beautiful she looked with gleaming skin, irresistible curves, and forest-hued eyes that dared him to touch her.
Dared, hell. She was
bloody well taunting him and his no-repeat rule while distracting him from his purpose. He swallowed. What would it be like to have Jolie again? Her soft skin. Her fierce passion. The fire in her eyes when she finally gave into the peaking pleasure.
Jolie took her time scrounging through her dresser to find just the right nightie. As she bent to the drawer, he had an unparalleled view of the straight line of her spine bisecting her narrow back, the smooth cheeks of her backside, the firm length of her legs—and a hint of everything pink and feminine in between.
Heath gritted his teeth and held in a curse. What would happen if he bent his no-repeat rule just this once?
Finally, Jolie selected something white and sheer, edged with lace. She made a great show of considering the delicate matching knickers, only to shove them back in the drawer. Then she turned to face him, lifting the lingerie over her head, letting him watch it slither down her body and hug every part of her he ached to touch and taste again.
When the garment reached the tops of her thighs, Heath still couldn’t tear his stare away. Technically, she was covered but the darkened shadow of her nipples showed through, as did the dark curls protecting her pussy. He couldn’t miss the outline of her nipped-in waist and the feminine curve of her hip.
Jolie was definitely taunting him, trying to strip his control. He couldn’t let that stand.
With a come-hither sway, she strutted to the bed and crawled onto the mattress, letting him see the swell of her lush breasts that he shouldn’t touch. Then she settled in beside him with an exaggerated stretch that accentuated her hard nipples poking the transparent fabric.
As she sent him a saccharine smile, Jolie settled against the headboard and opened her iPad, attached the matching keyboard, and tuned him out utterly.
Heath couldn’t deny that she’d done a fantastic job of piquing more than his interest. A fine layer of sweat dampened his temples, sheened his back and chest . . . But the hardness of his cock astounded even him. As many times as he’d had this woman last night, he should have nothing left to feel for her, not even arousal.
He burned more for her now than he had the night before.
Gritting his teeth, he fisted the blue silk scarf. Yes, she might have done her best to drive him out of his mind, but he definitely intended to have the last word.
Tossing off the covers, he exposed their legs. He didn’t give a fuck if she saw how hard she’d made him. Two could play her game.
Then he wrapped the scarf around her ankle. She’d barely had time to jerk her gaze up to stare at him with both shock and rebuke when he slid it around his own ankle and tied the two of them together.
“What the hell—”
“You’ve proven that I can’t trust you not to sneak away, so I’m making certain that you’ll stay put tonight. If you’re difficult, I’ll bind our hands together as well.”
She glanced down at his sturdy knot, then back to his face. “You’ve done this before, tied a woman up.”
“I have.”
But he hadn’t indulged in anything like that since he’d been widowed. He’d thought about it often but hadn’t been able to tap into that part of himself with anyone else. Now the possibility shimmered between him and Jolie, and he felt his blood racing. The idea of her being tied to him while he teased and tormented her, slowly breaking through her defenses, roused him. The notion of stroking her into a pleading, shaking need before he ruthlessly fucked her nearly tempted him beyond his control. Even at the thought, desire buzzed through his body like an intoxicating chemical.
“Not with me. Never. I told you. I don’t submit.”
Because she’d never tried. She’d never trusted any man enough to give herself over that completely.
Stupid or not—against his one rule of engagement or not—Heath wanted to be that man.
“I’m merely making certain you understand the concept of staying beside me until I tell you otherwise.”
She jerked her leg, testing the bond he’d tied. When she could only twist and turn a bit to find comfort, she huffed. “Whatever. If this gives you some peace of mind that I won’t leave, fine. Just let me get back to work.”
She tapped on her tablet again, swiping her fingers across the screen, scanning, reading.
Heath would rather feel his skin slide against hers. No, that wasn’t precisely true. He wanted her to put that damn tablet down so he could roll her to her back, hold her down, kiss her with the passion blistering inside, and coax her to take him again in one relentless thrust after another.
After ten minutes of swiping, typing, sighing, and frowning, Jolie finally darkened the tablet and set it aside, then flipped off the light. As much as Heath wanted her, he could feel her worry, too. She wouldn’t rest until she’d succeeded.
“You’re ready for this meeting,” he assured.
She rolled to her side, turning her back to him and dragging his leg along with her. “I’ve done everything I should. The rest is up to him.”
“You’re brilliant and driven. You’ve gotten this far because you believed in yourself. Don’t stop now.”
Heath felt Jolie’s surprise.
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Thanks.”
He rolled up behind her, spooning her body and fitting his aching cock against her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, the tips of his fingers just a breath away from cupping a handful of her breast. Damn, he was a stupid bastard for tormenting himself.
She froze. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”
“I can’t be tied to you in a queen-size bed without brushing my skin against yours.”
“This is more than incidental contact.” With a wriggle of her backside against his erection, Jolie damn near made him groan. “So is that.”
He banded his arm more tightly around her waist. “You think the way you dropped your towel and wore your peekaboo lingerie didn’t feel like a provocation to me?”
Then Heath couldn’t help himself; he rocked his hips, grinding into her. More than vaguely aware of the scarf around his ankle, he was dying to know how it affected Jolie.
“Oh, I see. Since I wore something you think is a little risqué, I deserve to be mauled?”
She might be arguing . . . but she sounded suspiciously breathy.
“No, I’m pointing out that you intentionally tormented me because I’m sure you know I never take the same lover twice. But I may change my mind . . .”
Heath slid his lips up the back of her neck. Fuck, she smelled so clean and womanly. Dragging in her scent made his head swim. He couldn’t forget the crushing pleasure she’d given him last night. Almost of its own volition, the hand he’d wedged under her body raised up to cup her breast and tease the peaked nipple through the sheer fabric. The palm he’d thrown around her hip lowered, settling over her mound. Dampness instantly coated his fingers.
“Stop,” she said even as she arched her hips, thrusting her pussy directly into his touch.
He rubbed her with slow circles and pressed his lips to her ear. “Stop what, love? Stop making you feel good? Stop making you moan and ache for the orgasm you know I can give you?”
Jolie merely answered with a jagged cry, so Heath kept on, sliding his fingers between her slick folds and rubbing her sensitive flesh with methodical strokes.
Her clit hardened. Her flesh swelled. She gasped, writhed, gyrating back against him with a sensual sway that nearly undid him. He was an adult male; he’d had more than a lap dance or two. He’d had a lot of sexual partners. No woman had ever incited this sort of blinding need to tear away the few clothes they both wore and slide inside her immediately.
Against him, Jolie tensed and began to clutch the sheets. She tossed her head back to his shoulder, whispering his name. They moved together in complete darkness, but she lit him up in ways he couldn’t fight. He heard nothing but her pants and cries, smelled nothing but the musk of her growing need, felt nothing except her sweet body wriggling against his.
When her mo
ans turned desperate, Heath paused. Desire coated him with sweat. His thoughts raced. What now? Teach her a lesson? Or give them both what they wanted, consequences be damned?
Bloody hell, he’d allowed his pride and his dick to lead him into this mess. Now he either had to break his one cardinal rule . . . or suffer the torment of her nearness all night without relief.
“Heath!” she gripped his thigh, nails digging little stinging half-moons into his skin.
He nipped at her ear, wishing like hell he could see the pleasure on her face, the sheer beauty of her response. Damn it all, he didn’t want to prove a point about who had the sexual control.
He simply wanted her.
