Ignoring her smirk, Ralston headed into his galley kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and made a point of turning his back to Analise before drinking it down. Why did she have to be so crabby anyway?
“Someone is spoiling for a fight.” Her tone was edged with sarcasm, but it was also filled with curiosity. “Couldn’t you get it up in the shower to rub one out?”
Ralston nearly choked on the water. He spun around and spat into the sink to avoid spraying a mouthful all over the kitchen. “What the hell?” he snarled. “That was a little rude, wasn’t it?”
“You’re the one acting like an ass,” she said mildly. “I’m just following your lead. If you want a reason to be mad at me, I’ll give you one. I aim to please.”
The words were hardly out before Ralston’s mind conjured up a thousand ways that Analise could please him all night long. Grumbling, he slammed the water bottle back and stomped back toward his bedroom.
The sleeping area itself wasn’t separated from the rest of the living area by walls. It was more of a raised platform separated by five steps and a network of modern metal railings.
This meant that when Ralston dropped his towel and grabbed a fresh pair of athletic shorts from his drawer, he knew that Analise had caught a glimpse of his bare backside. He didn’t care. It would serve her right. Whether she found it attractive or not, he didn’t give a shit. But he was getting tired of her attitude about sharing space.
Ralston ignored the living area in favor of heading for the workout equipment stashed in the opposite corner from the kitchen. He set the bench at an incline and commenced with his usual crunches and leg presses. After that, he intended to do some light work on his arms, and then maybe he would go for a run. He needed to burn off some steam before his temper exploded all over Analise.
“You should really do toes parallel if you want to work your core.”
The words floated over from the couch as though he had asked for Analise’s opinion on his workout. Ralston ground his teeth together and forced himself to focus on his breathing. Fifteen. Thirty. Forty-five. When he got to a hundred, he stopped and flipped around on the bench to work his legs.
He did not need her input on his exercise regimen. He was a grown-ass man. Yes. Analise had been a marine. She was also a woman whose experience with men had been isolated to guys trying to bulk up or men trying to be super fit because their safety required it. Bulking up wasn’t exactly necessary for an IT job. At this point, Ralston would just be happy if he could keep the bulge off his waistline.
Ralston stopped the leg presses. At this point, he didn’t even know how many he’d done. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. He knew it was idiotic to take a shower and then work out, but he showered when he wanted to think. And when that didn’t produce results, he worked out to blow off steam. With Analise here, he was having to blow off a lot of steam in pretty much every direction or risk losing his temper and saying something he would regret. A lot.
ANALISE COULD NOT seem to stop staring at Ralston. It was extremely annoying. Why did the guy walk around in just a towel anyway? Was he trying to show off? It seemed like he was. She had been around a lot of attractive men in her life, but nobody like Ralston Hyde-Pierson. He kept himself fit, but he didn’t overdo it or look so bulky that he completely lacked a neck.
Analise squirmed a little on the couch. Her panties were damp, and she was feeling distinctly achy between her legs. It was making her straight up crabby. In fact, she was sort of getting to the point where she was the one who would start picking a fight in a few minutes. It was sort of tempting to sit here on the couch while Ralston was working out just a few feet away and touch herself. She wondered if she could actually bring herself to orgasm without his realizing it.
The challenge was almost too much to resist. Of course, she needed to be honest with herself and admit that the challenge wasn’t about the challenge, it was an excuse to masturbate. It crossed her mind to wonder what Ralston would say if he looked over and discovered that her hand was buried inside her shorts.
She pressed her thighs together. She really needed to get laid. It had been too damn long, and she got a little crazy when it had been too long. Even just something to take the edge off would have been fine.
“What are you doing?”
Analise jumped at the sound of Ralston’s voice right beside her. She cleared her throat and pretended to be looking at her phone. “Just checking to see if there’s been any word from Nash.”
“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I’m going for a run. Either you can come with me or you’re free to wait around here.”
“You know I can’t just wait here while you go outside running,” she said sarcastically. “Some sniper could bump you off, and I’d never even know. Some bodyguard I would make then.”
“Well, being a woman does seem to make the job harder,” he commented.
She bristled at the insinuation. “Seriously? You’re going to go there?”
“I just did, didn’t I?” The snarky sound of his voice got on her nerves.
Analise jumped up from the couch. “Fine. You want to go run? Let’s go. Right now.”
He shrugged, and the smile that crossed his face didn’t quite reach his blue eyes. Then he turned and sprinted down the stairs toward the ground floor. Analise cursed as she realized that she didn’t even have shoes on.
Shoving her feet into her running shoes, she wondered if she was being too hard on the guy. He was pretty damn nice for a rich guy. It was just that sometimes it grated on her nerves to be stuck here guarding a man that really didn’t need her services to begin with. It made her feel superfluous—like she wasn’t even competent enough to do this job. Not a great feeling for someone who had fought and scraped through training to become a marine. It wasn’t exactly the easiest job for a woman to obtain.
Ralston was already opening the door when she got to the bottom of the stairs. Analise pressed her lips together to keep herself from lecturing him. He was supposed to let her go first. But as he had explained to her multiple times now, the security system he’d installed on his building had closed-circuit cameras monitoring the street out front. He could tell where the threats might be before he opened the door. And since he was the only one who knew all the codes, he had to do it anyway.
Again. She felt superfluous, which was why she was going to leave his superior derriere in the dust on this run. She bounded out the door and started off down the street while he was still shooting the lock.
“Hey!” he protested. “That’s cheating.”
“I’m a girl.” She swung around, still moving, and pulled a face. “I get a head start.”
“Gender-based double standards suck ass!” Ralston griped as he quickly caught up to her.
Analise hated to admit it, but while she might have the edge in a flat-out sprint, it was very possible that Ralston would catch her in the long run. The man ran fast and light on his feet. Every muscle moved in perfect synchronicity. Watching him move was almost a visual treat. Even when it was dark and the only light came from the lamps and the glow of the buildings lining the streets.
The two of them jogged down the sidewalk past the city of Boston’s vibrant shops, restaurants, and markets. Tall buildings shot up around them, and the city lights were like brilliant artwork. Analise had grown up in St Louis. It was nothing like Boston. Both were cities, but Boston was so much more alive. It was a city where people actually lived and worked. In contrast, St Louis was an angry, polarized place where being in the city after dark pretty much guaranteed an altercation with some gun-toting thug.
Ralston kept to his usual route. Analise paced alongside. She was breathing just fine and feeling good. Somehow the exercise was blowing some of the cobwebs out of her brain. She didn’t feel so lethargic or crabby out here. Spring was just turning into summer, and the air was clear without the muggy heat that would come later.
They rounded the block and headed
down a bisecting street. The two of them moved well together. They dodged in and out of foot traffic with almost choreographed ease. Ralston never seemed to tire, and he kept an extremely rhythmic pace without having a need for someone to call cadence. It felt good to be out here. All up until the moment they rounded the last corner and Analise realized there was someone banging on the front door of Ralston’s building.
Chapter Four
Ralston felt as if he’d run headlong into a wall when Analise’s arm shot out and connected with his midsection. His momentum went from a flat-out run to a full stop in just a few seconds, and he nearly lost his balance and went down on one knee.
“What the hell?” he growled. “I was going to let you win anyway. You didn’t need to cheat.”
Analise shot him a dirty look and pointed toward the front of his building. It took Ralston a moment to realize that there was someone standing there. By that time, Analise had grabbed his shirt and yanked him back around the corner. The two of them were standing there peeking out and garnering a lot of unwanted attention from passersby. No doubt everyone else on the street that night thought they were high or some other variety of under the influence. Great. That was just what his reputation needed.
“What are you doing?” Ralston didn’t bother hiding his irritation. It wasn’t like Analise was going to care what he thought anyway.
She had her belly pressed to the building and was leaning as far around the corner as she dared. “There’s a woman on your doorstep.”
“A woman,” he mused. “And you’re sure she’s some mafia-sent assassin here to murder me?”
“Possibly.” Analise didn’t spare him a glance. “Although, I don’t remember there being a lot of assassins that go about trying to fulfill contracts while wearing stiletto-heeled boots.”
“Stiletto-heeled boots,” Ralston murmured. “Is she wearing a black leather jacket with sort of weird, spiky hair?”
Analise craned her neck around to look at Ralston. “I’m pretty sure. Why?”
“Because that would be Chelsea Ettinger,” Ralston said with a groan. “We dated briefly—briefly—and she’s never really gotten the message that we’re not a thing. At all.”
“So, you’re one of those,” Analise muttered. “Perfect.”
“Hey!” Ralston didn’t appreciate the implication. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know.” Analise made some vague gesture with her hands. He wished he could see inside her head for five minutes because he had a feeling that there was an awful lot of activity going on. “One of those guys that pretends to be interested for your own reasons. Either you were just using her because of her business connections. Your father wanted you to go out with her because he was making a deal. Her parents pressured somebody. Or maybe you were just tired of her coming onto you and you wanted a quick fuck and she seemed like easy prey.”
Ralston drew back as though she’d slapped him. “That’s nice. Really. You just assume all that about me. It’s good to know what you really think. In fact, I’m surprised you would bother giving a shit if I get a bullet in the brain or not. If I’m really like you’ve just described, I would think you’d be pushing me out in front of a car.”
He shoved his way past Analise and stalked down the sidewalk toward his building. At this point, he did not even care if she was right behind him or not. It didn’t matter. He was sick and tired of people thinking that he was the same kind of man that his father was. It wasn’t fair. He had struggled long and hard to be different, to be the sort of man that could hold his head high. In the end, it never seemed to matter. He was a Hyde-Pierson, and he would be tarred and feathered with the same brush.
“Chelsea,” Ralston said coldly. “Can I help you?”
Chelsea Ettinger whipped around, wobbling a little bit on those prohibitively high stiletto heels. It was funny that the heeled boots had given her away, but that was sort of like Chelsea’s trademark. The woman never wore anything but high-heeled boots.
“Oh!” She put her manicured hand against her chest. “Ralston, you startled me!”
“I was out for a run.” He half turned and punched the unlock code into the keypad while using his shoulder to block Chelsea’s view of what he was doing. There was no way in hell he wanted her to have a way into his building. “What can I do for you?”
Normally, Ralston would have done everything in his power to keep Chelsea out of his territory. From the corner of his eye, he saw Analise stomping her way down the sidewalk. Still stinging from her flippant and judgmental summation of his character, Ralston graciously gestured for Chelsea to come inside his home.
“It’s just so good to see you,” Chelsea gushed. “I caught a glimpse of you earlier, at Mrs. Peabody’s party. Then you were just gone.” Chelsea brushed a bit of her spiky dark hair back behind one ear. Her eye makeup looked practically painted on. It was disconcerting.
As soon as he’d let her in, Ralston felt as though he’d invited a vampire into his home. Chelsea marched right up the stairs and then into his living room. She flopped down onto his sofa and made herself at home. Ralston realized that he really didn’t have a way to get rid of her. This was bad.
“So, what have you been up to?” Chelsea drawled. Her narrow eyebrows went up and down suggestively. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you out in public. We had all started wondering if you’d crawled into a hole somewhere with those computers of yours.”
Ralston plucked a zip-up hoodie from the rack near the staircase. For some reason, he felt too exposed. The way Chelsea was eye fucking him probably had something to do with that. The woman was eyeing him like a spider looks at something it’s caught in its web.
He deliberately shrugged. “Would you like a glass of water or a soda?” He deliberately did not offer her wine. There was no way he wanted this woman getting drunk in his home.
“Soda?” She cocked her head, and a sarcastic smile kicked up one corner of her full, red lips. “What are we? Twelve?”
“I don’t drink after I work out,” he said by way of explanation. “It’s hard on the system.”
“Oh.” She stood up and sashayed toward him.
Ralston had retreated into his galley kitchen, but now he realized that he had boxed himself in. Great. Now he would likely have to vault over the countertops if he wanted to escape.
ANALISE LET HERSELF into Ralston’s building and stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening. There wasn’t much noise. Just the throaty sound of a woman’s voice mingled with the lower tones of a man’s. Analise could not decipher what she was feeling. Anger? Jealousy? It was impossible to tell if her emotions were even reasonable. She had no claims on this man. He was a client. He should have been nothing more than a duty or a paycheck. She was paid to keep him alive. They were working together to try and find out what his father was really up to. That was it. Anything beyond that was none of her business.
Of course, that made her next move almost ridiculous in nature. Not even bothering to soften her footfalls or pretend to be quiet, Analise tromped up the stairs to the second floor. She sauntered into the living room and observed the scene happening in the kitchen. It almost made her laugh.
Ralston appeared to be trapped in the back of the kitchen. The spike-heeled, spike-haired woman—Chelsea—had her hands braced against the countertops. With one hand on each side of the kitchen, she was effectively blocking any hope of exit for Ralston. Chelsea had been leaning forward as though she were about to make a real pass at Ralston. Of course, that was before Analise came charging onto the scene.
“Oh,” Analise said with mock sincerity. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Ralston said quickly. “I was just getting some water.”
Chelsea did not bother to pretend ignorance. She let go of the countertops and turned around to face Analise. Her dark gaze raked Analise from head to toe. It actually felt like a violation. The message was clear even without the words that came next.
“Who is this?” Chelsea sniffed. She cocked her head sideways as though trying to place Analise. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Chelsea Ettinger, Ralston’s girlfriend.”
Analise raised her eyebrows. Apparently, Ralston was one of those guys even if he didn’t think he was. “Nice to meet you, Chelsea. I’m Ralston’s roommate.”
“Roommate?” Chelsea swung around to glare at Ralston. “You have a woman living here with you?”
“It’s complicated,” Ralston muttered. He shoved his way past Chelsea. It was obvious that he was trying to get some space. “Analise is just here to help me with some—business issues.”
Chelsea crossed her arms over her ample chest. The formfitting, stretchy black top she wore under her leather jacket was so tight that her nipples stuck out. Classy. Analise struggled not to roll her eyes. The posturing was getting a little old. It was tempting to grab the woman by that nasty hair and give her the total smack down. Not that the behavior would have been likely to endear Analise to Ralston. She had sort of given up on that anyway.
“Ralston,” Chelsea said coldly. “What do you have to say for yourself? You have a woman living here for business reasons? What the hell? You didn’t even talk to me about this!”
Ralston held up his hands. “Okay, hang on for just one second here, Chelsea. Why would I consult you about who I have living in my building? Why would I even think that you would care who I see or what I do? The two of us”—he pointed to her and then to himself several times—“this is not a thing. We are not a thing. We dated a few times. That was it!”
“Not true,” Chelsea snarled. She stomped over to Ralston and put her finger right in his chest. “I told you that I wanted to take our relationship to the next level. I told you that.”
“But I didn’t agree,” he argued. “In fact, I told you in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t at all interested in anything long term or committed. We went our separate ways, and it was over.”
Analise watched the body language of both parties and realized that she had been way too judgmental of Ralston without cause. The guy looked as though he were ready to flee. In direct contrast, Chelsea looked aggressive and extremely pushy. It was becoming obvious that Chelsea was more one of those women than Ralston was one of those men. Analise had been unfair and she owed him one. Or maybe she could just help him out of this situation.
Nash Security Solutions Page 33
