Guarded Heart

by Anya Breton

  He paused at the exit behind Irvin, foolishly hoping for a last-minute reprieve. The building was silent and forbidding in response. Morgan forced himself across the threshold back into reality.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brook stepped off her second flight of the day, exhausted from days without any true rest. She arrowed through the crowd and hailed a cab. The brief trip several thousand miles in the air and then down again hadn’t given her much time to think. Soon she’d be called upon for an answer.

  She barely noted the cab’s progress through the city. But she did note the driver’s demand for money once they’d arrived at the destination. Brook tossed a bill over the seat and then forced herself out of the car.

  Several Rangers nodded respectfully at her as she strode toward the back of the building. She stepped into her boss’s outer suite.

  Judy sent her a bright smile. “Welcome back, Brook. Let me buzz him that you’re here.”

  She nodded and hovered near the chairs lining the wall.

  Kyle Destan’s voice echoed over the phone speaker. “Send her in.”

  Brook followed the direction before Judy gave it. Moments later she sank into a cushioned chair in front of her boss’s desk. His medium-length brown hair was on the edge of wild as always, causing the usual itch to grab a pair of shears and trim. Piercing dark eyes held hers, seeing the things she hid both beneath the surface and much deeper.

  Master Destan shook his head twice and gave a small chuckle. “You’re in love with him.”

  “It’s nice to see you too, Kyle,” she said between clenched teeth. “Yes, I did get Norman Foster to the detention center in Arizona without incident. Thanks for worrying after my safety.”

  “If I had to worry after your safety I wouldn’t be about to raise you to Master level rank and give you a coveted promotion.”

  Brook avoided his steady gaze, instead staring at the carpet. Master level was what she’d dreamt of for years. The promotion was beyond her imaginings. So why was she miserable?

  “Maybe I should withhold both until you resolve your feelings for Priest Seaton.”

  Her attention came up, fixing on a disgustingly smug Kyle. “My feelings are resolved.”

  Yes, she did care about Morgan. Far more than she wanted to. There were so many reasons to avoid her feelings and him. Chief among them was that she’d never felt anything this strongly before.

  And he hadn’t asked her to stay. Morgan had let her walk out of his life without so much as a thank you. How badly could he want her if he hadn’t fought for her?

  “You didn’t tell him about the promotion,” Kyle said. “He called asking for your California address so he could have your box shipped to you.”

  “My box?”

  “Yes, apparently the post office had a snafu with your weapons and they were finally delivered to the destroyed lakefront lot.”

  The missing weapons box! Brook had forgotten all about that. She hadn’t asked Norman Foster about its disappearance. She was slipping if she’d neglected that.

  Did she deserve a promotion?

  Kyle’s knowing expression deepened. “Why didn’t you tell Priest Seaton that you’d be staying in the area?”

  “I thought it would only complicate the job.”

  “Okay…but why didn’t you tell him after the job was finished?”

  Brook shrugged. “It seemed like a bad idea to reveal a promotion I didn’t have yet.”

  Kyle snuffled—a sound that implied disappointment.

  Perhaps he had a good reason to be disappointed in her. This job had been her worst work to date. It didn’t matter that the culprit had been found in the end.

  Her boss got to his feet. “Let’s get this over with so I can get the paperwork going for the promotion.”

  “What’s this?”

  “The ceremony for Master level.” Kyle pressed the button on his phone. “Judy, is everything set?”

  “Yes, Master Destan. Everyone is waiting in the conference room.”

  Brook remained seated even after her boss crossed the room. He stopped at the door, glancing back. “Are you ready?”

  Was she ready to accept the one thing she’d thought she wanted most?

  She got to her feet and lethargically started after.

  Now, so close to getting what she’d worked years toward, Brook could think only of how much she’d screwed up. And for once her career wasn’t at the forefront of her thoughts.

  Getting close to her client had been a bad idea. If this had been a test, she’d surely failed it. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to regret the time they’d had together.

  Brook stepped in front of her peers, feigning a smile she didn’t feel as Kyle began the formalities of bestowing a new rank on her. Master level and a promotion now felt like hollow victories.

  Morgan hadn’t fought for her. But why would he? He hadn’t known about the promotion. No doubt he’d assumed asking her to stay would be asking her to give up her job.

  He’d been kind even at the end. How typically Morgan.

  He deserved a better witch than she was. But she didn’t want him to have anyone else. She selfishly wanted him all to herself.

  I want Morgan. It was freeing to finally admit it to herself. Now it was time to let down her guard and give him a chance to reject her. That would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  But she’d do it. For him.

  * * * * *

  Morgan should have put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door before he’d gone to bed. Or any of the numerous times he’d gotten up in the middle of the night. Housekeeping didn’t need to change the sheets. Not when he had little intention of getting out of bed today.

  He’d spent yesterday assuring his covens he was very much alive. And he’d broken the news about Norman Foster’s plot. Today he’d allow himself the luxury of brooding alone in his hotel room. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find a new place to stay while the lake house was rebuilt.

  The double knock repeated. Morgan inhaled a grumble. He hauled himself out of bed, not bothering to grab his discarded shirt or slacks from the floor. His hand closed around the knob, twisting it quickly so he could wrench open the door.

  Words meant to send his visitor away stalled in his throat. Room service had never been so alluring. Brook Calder stood in a red silk dress that fell to just above her knees. A large paper bag with a restaurant logo hung from her arm and a bottle of wine was nestled in her armpit. Morgan barely saw any of it. His attention slid over her, from her painted face to the nipples puckered beneath the thin fabric. Arousal gripped his cock at an alarming speed.

  “Irvin thought you probably needed dinner,” Brook said, as if it explained what she was doing here looking like that.

  The only things he could think of were smearing her bright-red lipstick with his mouth and discovering what she wore beneath her sexy dress. Why was she wearing a dress when jeans and T-shirts were her usual fare?

  She tilted her head to the right. “Was he wrong?”

  Morgan croaked. “No. What are you doing here?”

  Brook blinked a pair of innocuous and smoky-shadowed eyes that looked all wrong on her face. “Bringing you dinner.”

  “What are you doing in Indiana when you should be in California or on your next job?”

  “Can I come in?”

  If she came in, her dress would be coming off and he’d be fucking her up against the closed door.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Morgan said hoarsely, desire strangling his throat and gripping his every muscle.

  “I didn’t want to be a hard-ass but you’re forcing me. You don’t get dinner unless I can come in.”

  Talk of hard-asses did little to ease his raging erection. Fortunately she couldn’t see it behind the half-open door.

  “I don’t want dinner,” he said.

  Irritation flared in her icy eyes. He nearly groaned aloud at how sexy she looked in that moment—a vision he’d never forge
t.

  “I’m not going to apologize in the corridor,” she snapped, finally giving up on the faux civility that was so foreign to her. “So either let me in so I can or send me away without ever getting one.”

  She was going to apologize?

  Morgan stepped back, opening the door fully. She walked in and glanced around the room before facing him. He grabbed her face before she could speak. His tongue slipped between the open part in her lips. Morgan swallowed whatever apology she’d been about to give.

  He barely noted the dull thud of the paper bag hitting the ground but he noted when her arms came around his shoulders. The silk of her dress slid along his skin, a teasing barrier between them. Taut nipples brushed his chest.

  Morgan shoved her against the closed door as he’d imagined doing. His fingers found their way beneath her skirt. He skimmed her thigh to the heated place between her legs, discovering she wore nothing beneath the dress. A groan ripped out of his throat. He needed inside her. Now. But if she were fertile it could mean a child. As much as he wanted an excuse to bind her to him, he wouldn’t take away her choice.

  He dropped both arms beneath her thighs, lifting her to him and grinding his cock into her pussy. It was a sinful experience despite the thin layer of his boxers between them. Brook clamped her legs around his hips as he carried her across the room. On and on she kissed him, twirling her tongue with his in a way that left little doubt she desired him.

  He settled her on the bed, drawing up so he could kiss her neck, her collarbone and the bare skin above her bodice. Morgan squeezed a silk-coated breast. He dropped his mouth to the pebbled nipple. One strong suck on the fabric had her back arching toward him.

  “Morgan,” she gasped.

  He left her and crouched near his slacks, fumbling with the pockets until he found the condom he’d left in them days ago. Quickly he shucked his boxers, tore the foil and rolled the latex over himself.

  Brook opened her thighs wide, rolling her skirt up as she did. An invitation he’d never thought he’d get again.

  He stared silently, taking in the temptation of her. Brook’s full red lips were puffed from his attack at the door. Lipstick smeared above and below her mouth, no doubt the match for his own. Her golden hair was extra tousled from where he’d rolled her head on the bed with his kisses. One red silk strap had fallen over her shoulder, revealing the top of one breast. Below the skirt was the perfect enticement—a bare, glistening pink pussy open for his invasion. But it was the vulnerability shining in her eyes—no longer icy but instead heated with desire—that caught his heart in its grip.

  He loved her. And she’d come back. He didn’t know why but he was no fool. She wouldn’t leave again without hearing his feelings. But first, he had to fuck her.

  Brook drew her lower lip between her teeth, knowing the red lipstick she’d painstakingly painted on was probably twice as smeared as the hue that stained Morgan’s mouth. He stood feet from the bed, staring at her as if he were a deer caught in headlights—only this deer was nude with an impressive erection. He’d pulled away for a condom and then frozen.

  Was he having second thoughts? There’d been a few moments in the corridor where she’d feared he’d send her away. But once she’d gotten inside, things had gone far better than she’d imagined. Until now.

  She could help with second thoughts. Brook reached for the zipper on the back of her dress.

  “Don’t.” His hoarse voice sent a thrill through her. “Not yet.”

  Morgan knelt on the edge of the bed. His ocean fragrance washed over her, drawing forth sexy memories of the last time he’d been nude. He closed the distance between them without another word and sank between her open thighs. Pressed above her, he was solid, warm and real—so unlike the fantasies that had plagued her since she’d left the cabin.

  His tongue plunged through her mouth, hand fisting in her hair before he followed through with a hard thrust of his cock inside her. Morgan’s intense kiss threatened to steal more than her heart.

  The dress had done what she’d hoped. Lust had gotten her through the door. She’d imagined he’d expect the apology and outpouring of emotion before he’d take advantage of the outfit. But this worked. This was probably better. They’d both be relaxed when she said what she’d come to say.

  Brook coiled her legs around him, drawing him closer. He groaned against her lips. And then thrust harder, reaching the depths of her trembling core. Her breath caught and eyes rolled up into her head at the heated swells. Each new thrust was a skillful stroke designed to strip away a little more of her protective shell until Brook lay open and bare except for a thin scrap of silk.

  His fingers scrabbled behind her for the zipper in between driving his cock deeper. Morgan tugged the dress over her head, tossing it aside so he could fasten his hot mouth over her bare breast.

  Nothing protected her from him. She found herself smiling. His head came up, catching her happy expression. Morgan released a low groan.

  “I love you.”

  They stilled, each gaping at the other. Somehow they’d manage to speak the words at precisely the same moment. Intuition? Or something deeper?

  Emotion clogged Brook’s throat. Though she’d known he had feelings for her, she hadn’t expected love so soon. Nor had she expected him to admit it until she did first.

  He croaked almost boyishly. “You do?”

  Brook nodded. “Why else would I wear a stupid dress and put on makeup?”

  He propped himself onto one elbow, seemingly heedless to his cock still inside her. “I don’t know. I assumed you meant to seduce me.”

  “There might have been a little of that.” She fought a blush because she’d never tried to seduce a man before Morgan. “I came to apologize for…everything and thought the dress would help.”

  He grunted but didn’t argue.

  “I was wrong about Irvin and Mira. I’m sorry I made you think the worst about your uncle.”

  “It’s what Rangers do,” he said with little emotion. “You look at all the suspects with a neutral eye.”

  “But my eye isn’t neutral. I know it’s awful, but in the beginning I hoped someone close to you was at fault so you’d see once and for all that people aren’t inherently good. But you aren’t the one who believes people are inherently…anything. I am. I thought everyone was selfish and only good to others if they got something in return. But you…everything you do is for someone else. You’re the most selfless person I know. You know there is good and bad in people. Yet you choose to see only the best.

  “I made you question everything you knew and suspect the people you love of doing the worst thing imaginable simply based on biased hunches. You were miserable because of me…because I made you believe your uncle was capable of harming you. I’m truly sorry for that.” She pulled in a long breath after her rambling confession. “I love you, Morgan. Neptune knows I don’t deserve you. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to see what could be between us…if anything. If you don’t want to try, I’ll under—”

  Morgan shut her up with a kiss—a devouring embrace of mouth, tongue and body. Slowly, deliciously he began moving inside her. The unhurried thrusts brought tears to her eyes. It wasn’t an answer but it wasn’t a rejection.

  He loosened his kiss until she could see his face. She forced herself to hold his intense gaze. Brook went breathless from the warm emotion swirling in it and brushing her consciousness without an empathic link. She felt it because it was extreme—his love was extreme.

  Brook smiled. She laughed giddily when his eyes crinkled as he smiled back.

  Morgan drove deep, wiping away the happy expression with the surge of desire that flashed sensations to every tiny cell. She fell onto the bed, unable to muffle the gasp that emitted from her lips. He withdrew his cock, groaning as he did only to slam forward again. The bed creaked and squeaked as though keeping time.

  His fingers slipped through her hair, stroking the edge of her ear. The gentle motion drew an un
expected shiver of sweet warmth. Only Morgan could manage to be an aggressive and tender lover at the same time.

  The frantic fuck on the floor of the bathroom had nothing on this. There was no contract stating this was against the rules. This wasn’t lust born of the forbidden. This was simply right.

  Morgan took her by measures. Each steady stroke and small caress stole more of her unguarded heart and soul.

  He paused and lowered himself, stretching against her body. Morgan wrapped his arms beneath her shoulders and tugged her close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered that she was beautiful. And then he drove inside her at a pace that shamed all others.

  Brook clung to him, unable to do anything but let him lead. Their moans echoed against the borrowed walls. Her vision blurred as the wicked pressure built deep within.

  At last the tide of sensation swept across her, searing and marking each place it touched. She was his. Always. And she cried his name out so everyone in the hotel would know it.

  He rolled her over, drawing her into the circle of his arms even as they panted together, sweaty and sated. “So you love me?”

  Brook punched him in the arm. “I believe you said it first.”

  “We said it at the same time,” he said. “An amazing coincidence. If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought you’d magicked it out of me.”

  “I wouldn’t use an empathic link on you without your permission.”

  “I didn’t say you’d used Water magic on me.”

  Brook lifted onto her elbow so she could look down at him. “What other magic would I use?”

  “Your feminine wiles.”

  She snorted, unladylike. “I don’t have those.”

  “No? So standing at my hotel door all dolled up and wearing that slinky dress wasn’t feminine wiles? You know I can’t resist you in something silky.”

  “I thought you’d let me in because of dinner.”

  Morgan gave her a bruising kiss. Perhaps a punishment for fibbing. But it warmed her insides all over again. The organ thickening against her thigh reminded her that he could be ready for a second go any moment now. Ah, the beauty of sex with her own kind.