by Siera London
“You have a gift.” Lina looked expectantly at him.
“Can it be packaged or marketed?”
“Not in the traditional sense, but bringing humor to any situation is a gift.”
“I find nothing humorous about having to troll the stores and hunt for a new purple comforter, or replacing my mattress.”
“I didn’t touch anything, but I don’t think the blood soaked your mattress.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m putting this body in that bed.” She placed a hand on her hip to emphasize her point. He raked his gaze down her generous curves and back up. She arched an eyebrow at his obvious perusal, but he didn’t miss her dilated pupils. He closed the distant between them. Her lips parted, and then her warm breath touched his skin. His own breath quickened, her lips parted, and her tongue made a slow trek across her lower lip. He saw and felt her body shift as he lowered towards her upturned face. He was going to kiss her and she would let him.
“Adios, chica, I can see where this is headed, and I’m out of here. Knock on my door when your friend is gone.” Estrella’s tone put a stop to what was happening between him and Lina.
Lina cleared her throat, taking a step back. The distance did little to break her spell.
“Estrella, this is my new boss.” Gideon looked in Estrella’s direction for the first time since she’d arrive. She merely gave a smirk. “I mean co-worker.” Estrella didn’t move to offer her hand in greeting.
She was tiny compared to him. Average build. Estrella maintained eye contact and held her ground, even with him towering over her. Some men took a step back when Gideon approached, but not this woman. She had her arms crossed over her chest. By the smirk on her face, as she looked up at him with a steady gaze, Estrella wasn’t intimidated by his size. He gave another cursory glance, impressed with her initial presentation. Interesting woman. He liked her immediately.
“I’m Gideon. Did you see or hear anything unusual tonight?” The woman studied him. Not with appreciation, he realized, but because she was sizing him up. He wondered if he had competition from her of another persuasion. Perhaps Estrella fed Lina and liked watching her eat for the same reason he did. Gideon was ready to do battle with any man, but he hadn’t considered a woman.
“You being here is the only thing I noticed that’s different,” Estrella finally answered. He didn’t see that sledgehammer coming. What other surprises did Estrella have in store for him?
Two hours later, she stripped and changed the sheets in the master bedroom. Gideon was right, the mattress wasn’t stained. But she wasn’t going to lay down on anything the intruder had touched.
Meanwhile she took comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone.
When the police asked if she knew of anyone that would break into her home, she remained quiet. Jace was a pest, but she couldn’t envision him violating her home like this. Gideon hadn’t mentioned Jace’s name to the police. So, he wasn’t keen on hanging the incident tag around Jace’s neck, either. After handling the majority of the police report, she decided to be safe and let Gideon stay. So there he was, under the same roof. Something Jace never would have done.
Though Gideon tried to camouflage the warrior side of his nature, his Marine Corps training was inherent in everything he did. Case in point, the man had a duffle bag in his car with a complete set of business clothes. Who does that?
“Lina?” Startled she jumped, knocking over the bedside clock. She righted herself, holding out a hand, as if to stop Gideon. It was futile to become accustomed to his help when he wouldn’t be around.
He leaned against the door frame, all country swagger. Her eyes slid to half mast, her nostrils flared, and her lips parted. A little tension relief was in order after tonight’s events. She was man fasting, but for the life of her, looking at his non-classical features framed by long ebony lashes, a square jaw, and a shadow well past midnight, she could not recall one logical reason why any woman would willingly deprive herself of Gideon Rice.
Her mother’s warning came to mind as she stood facing off with Gideon. No boys allowed in the house. But a take charge psychiatrist with a dangerous edge was an acceptable exception to the rule. Doctors were allowed to make house calls, right? No. Boys. Allowed.
“Do you need something, Gideon?” He pushed away from the wall, he stood in the center of the doorway, a sliver of light outlining his large frame. He’d lost the dress shirt, a sleeveless T-shirt clung to his chest. Hands in his pockets of his slacks, he remained motionless in the doorway. Silently, his body language requested permission before entering her bedroom. She gave him a nod to enter. His eyes slid over her body in pure male appreciation. That’s when she heard the tribal chant in her head; man fast, man fast, man fast. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she hoped it would squash the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“What can I do for you, Gideon?” He moved towards her and his scent made her all too aware that there was no barrier between them. He must have a sexy man camera slow play feature, every ripple, every flex, and every bulge of muscle was on ESPN replay. Breaking the focus on his body movements, she let her eyes drift downward, noting the carpet fibers sinking low with the shift of his weight. Now he stood in front of her.
His facial features were chiseled with just the right amount of refinement to avoid a harsh profile. His was built more for the open range than the calm surroundings of a psychiatric office. Total eye candy. She loved his Appalachian accent that he tried hard to conceal. She had noticed during dinner that he spoke with deliberate inflection on each syllable.
“I need to know that you are okay.”
“Fine,” came her quick response. “I don’t understand what happened here tonight.” She sounded stilted, even to her own ears. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t upset by tonight’s break-in, but the physical damage was minimal. The toll to her emotional state was still being tallied. Shoring up her spine, “I can handle it. But it’s unnerving.” The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced someone other than Jace had delivered the roses. Jace hated the sight of blood. He paled watching the sushi chef.
“We should look into installing a home security system as soon as possible. I didn’t find a control panel when I searched the home. I will research–”
“What was it that you needed?” She interrupted. He’d been kind. But tonight, of all nights, she couldn’t tolerate a promise of support that would be forgotten in the morning light. She didn’t want to repay him with rudeness, but men offered her the fairytale and didn’t deliver. She’d fallen for enough unicorns to last her a life time.
“I want something.” Would he hit on her now? So far, he’d gotten everything he wanted from her today. The man fast chant stopped and the booty call alert began. She shouldn’t be disappointed that he was interested in her body, but a part of her wanted him to crave her heart more than the hips. She had to give him props, he was unsuspectingly smooth and calculating. She liked him. Steeling her spine she tamped down her desire and prepared to push him away. Send him home after a lesson in urge control and keeping his priorities in order.
“A towel, beach sized if you have one.”
“Towel?” He stood there looking like a super-sized bottle of sex, and she was vulnerable and ripe for the taking and he wanted a towel?
“It’s a useful item following a shower, but I can air dry if you don’t use them.”
He missed the memo. He was supposed to be flirting, taking the edge off the evening, so she could turn him down and send him packing. Maybe if she flirted a little, she’d close her eyes tonight and not have nightmares. She was more than a little perplexed. Looking up at him, the deep smile lines bracketing his mouth told her that he knew the direction of her thoughts.
“Grab a set out of my closet,” she said in a casual tone. She placed one hand on her hip, and then pointed to the closet with the other. He openly grinned at her then. Oh my goosebumps, he was a gorgeous specimen of manhood.
“Oo
h, closet privileges,” he joked. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before moving away. If he only knew how close she was to giving him full access. To everything. He crossed the three feet to her closet in two steps, disappearing from sight. Tempted to massage the conciliatory kiss into her skin, she started tugging at her jewelry dropping it in the footed silver bowl on her bedside table. Bothered by Gideon’s lack of flirting, Lina was cranky, her skin felt too tight. Quelling the urge to walk into that closet and straight into his arms, she sank into the bedside chair. Dropping her head to her knees, she rubbed her damp palms up and down her shins, willing herself to breathe. In and out, nice and slow. She was stressed and her previous form of release was off limits for the next twenty-nine days. How could she keep it together, when her biggest temptation was three feet away and untouchable?
Chapter 7
Gideon was born on the wrong side of the economic tracks. Once he left Waverly Falls he learned the hard way that it was easier to bury the original rails and lay down new tracks far away from where you started, than try to convince people of your worth. But frugality he learned as a child never left him. He recognized fine quality in clothing, cars, and food.
Lina’s closet, on the other hand, could make a guest appearance on Keeping Up with The Kardishians. He had never been in a woman’s closet before, hers seemed to brim with couture designs. The cherry wood shelving and glass doors resembled an episode from one of those remodel house shows.
He had shared a closet with a woman, but stepping into Lina’s closet was similar to experiencing who she was through fabric and color. Her shoe cabinet was anchored from ceiling to floor on the rear wall. The shoes were color coordinated by seasons. Racks of clothing hung from light to dark according to length. Two jewelry cases adorned a chest of drawers in the center of the space. As a veteran Marine, Gideon valued organization. Being in the closet was less painful than he imagined. What struck him as out of place was a child’s pink and vinyl bag covered in bows.
“Are you alright in there?” He heard Lina ask. “I roll my towels instead of square fold them. They’re on your left.” Grabbing a towel roll, he exited the closet.
Holding it up, “Got it, thanks. Your closet is pretty fancy.”
“The custom remodel was a birthday gift from my mother three years ago.”
Gideon thought about the expansive closet. Her condo had a wooded preserve view to the east and the river view to the west. This place was a stretch on a nurse’s salary. Maybe her family was wealthy. A disturbing thought crossed his mind and he gave voice to it before he thought better.
“Have you ever been married?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“This location is atypical for most single women. I thought maybe, there was an ex-husband with a couple of kids in the not too distant past.” A serious, almost tragic expression crossed her face. Had she given that level of commitment to another man?
“No children,” she said, in a low tone. “A husband doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me.” She was a gorgeous woman. There was no way she believed marriage was off the table.
“You looking for a husband?” By her open mouth, his question had caught her off guard. Her brows furrowed. The blood thundered in his veins.
“I’m not sure how to answer.” He knew enough about Lina, to know she had an opinion on marriage. Was she too afraid to give voice to her wants?
“Tell me what you want.” Her breath hitched. His member pulsed in his pants when her lips parted and her tongue did a slow glide over that full bottom lip.
“I would like to meet a man interested in a committed relationship and the possibility of children.” That was an interesting response for a woman on a strike.
“Kind of hard to do on a man-fast.”
“Yep, there’s a season to everything. I appreciate you helping me out, and for staying the night.”
She was good at changing the subject.
“I could’ve gone to my mom’s house, but she worries about me. Telling her what happened tonight would’ve sent her into hyper drive. She probably would have relocated us to an underground bunker.” That stopped him cold.
“Lina, I’m not doing you any favors. Tell me why your mother would be so worried about you.”
“You could have left me after the police report, but you didn’t. Not every man would have made the choice you did tonight, I appreciate the whole dark knight persona you have going on.” The woman was stubborn and she had not answered his question. His adoptive mother, God rest her soul would have said Lina had moxie.
“He would if his intention is to stick around.” He would have pushed for Lina to give him an answer about her mom, except she looked away from him then, but not before he saw the flash of fear in her eyes.
“We should get ready for bed, I’m tired, and my new boss is a stickler for punctuality.”
He watched as she walked into the master bathroom. She closed the door and he heard the lock engage. He would convince her that he was a man that kept his word. He would be the man to break her fast.
How many times had she believed a man when he said he was with her to stay? She had scoured the “sucker” tattoo off her forehead. Those words no longer held value. Words that were too easy to disregard, forget, or abandon. She knew from experience.
She exited the master suite dressed in a royal blue cotton sleep set with capped sleeves. The v-neckline was tasteful, rather than revealing. She expected to see him stretched out on the sofa when she descended the stairs from the master suite. Gideon was organized, so it was odd to think he required extra time in the bathroom. Her graphite color couch was unoccupied.
Crossing to the darkened kitchen area, she hesitated a moment outside of the guest suite. She gave a quick rap on the door and waited.
“Come in.” Gideon’s voice hit her ear in a perfect amount of base. Her body vibrated like a tuning fork. She pushed the door open with two fingers and regretted it instantly. Her eyes widened, probably popped out of her head, and she felt her tongue hanging. His skin was damp, the shadowy light from the bedside lamp created a glistening effect on his torso. He wore loose cargo pants, with the perfect blend of tanned ropes and corded muscle covering his back. She’d barely caught her breath when he turned then, giving her a full frontal assault. A silver cable chain hung around his neck, a thin white metal band ring dangled from it between his well-defined pectorals. A network of scars crisscrossed his right chest wall up to his collar bone. Her eyes stopped. Seeing the evidence of his flesh and blood sacrifice for his country shot her sexy man meter to the danger zone. The best looking pajama set she’d ever seen on display. He was a graduate of Defined and Sculpted Muscle University with a doctorate in body psychiatry. She certainly felt the mood elevating effects of this visual therapy session. His wrinkled dress shirt and slacks hung on a hanger hooked around the closet door. Organized Marine, to the core.
“Man, you’ve got to put some clothes on if we’re going to stay in this house together.” Lina shook her head trying to dislodge the image of him half-dressed from her royalty free stock photos.
“Stay in this room together,” he responded as he pulled a loose black, cotton t-shirt over his head. She shook her head no in earnest for three reasons. First, to rid herself of the new image of thick biceps above his head as the t-shirt fell over his muscles. Second, to reprimand her inner naughty nurse into putting her cap back on and zip up her dress. And third, no way was she sharing a bedroom with him.
“Listen Clark Kent,” because this casual look was uber sexy, “you checked the place out. So did the cops. We’re safe.”
“Are you my Lois Lane?” He smiled. Her breath hitched.
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“Yea, I’m your Superman.” Oh goodness, her panties were moist.
“I’m ignoring you.” She pointed to the door. “You are welcome to the couch.”
“Unless you are on the couch with me that is not going to happen.” The steel
in his voice had her bristling and melting in equal measure.
“We are sleeping in this room, together,” he said pointing at the glass door leading from the bedroom to the balcony. “There is a balcony entrance to every room in this place. It’s like a miscreant’s dream,” he grumbled.
“Hey, easy with the labels. I pay a mortgage on this miscreant paradise.”
“I have to be able to get to you before the threat. I can’t do that if there is a wall between us and the stalker has direct access to your bedroom.”
“I’ll take the bed. You sleep there tonight,” Lina gestured to the eggplant colored chaise adorned with atomic silver pillows.
They looked at it, then at each other. Half his legs would dangle off that thing. He raised an eyebrow at her with a slight smirk to his lips.
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll position the chaise in front of the balcony doors. You take the bed, and I will sleep on the floor,” he said.
“Yeah, that can work, too.”
“Thanks, I try to offer reasonable advice when I can.”
“Don’t rub it in.” After a pause she added, “I’ll iron your clothes in the morning.”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“Cooking is off the table, but you’ll iron my dress shirt.”
“Even civilian nurses appreciate a hard crease in their uniform scrubs.”
“Touché. In exchange I’ll make you breakfast.”
“Cute and domesticated.” She approached the opposite side of the bed, turned down the covers and climbed in. She observed as he rearranged the room, then settled on the floor between the glass door entry and the bed. He was doing more than staying with her, he was protecting her.
“You’re a keeper,” she said, before she closed her eyes.
“You can count on it.”
