by Nina Croft
Rory McCabe was seated at one of them, facing the door. He looked so like his son that a shiver ran down her spine. She would do well to remember the relationship. Rory was a hard-nosed bastard, and while Declan had a veneer of civilization, underneath she was guessing he was just the same. From her research, she had learned that the business was totally legit, but no one was that successful without a ruthless streak. Rory rose to his feet as they entered, his lips twitching as he caught sight of Dave and Steve behind her. “You brought your own bodyguards. I assure you, you’re quite safe here.”
She ignored the comment. “This is Dave Grantham and Steve Forrest. They’ll be working on Declan’s team if we take the job.”
He nodded and spoke to the young man who’d led them here. “Could you set the table for two more and inform the kitchen.”
She gave her best insincere smile. “I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you.”
“Why do I get the impression you don’t give a damn if I’m inconvenienced?”
She didn’t answer, just shrugged and stepped aside as the young man pulled up two extra chairs and repositioned the others. She took one, leaving a gap between her and Rory. Steve hesitated a second, then took that seat, and Dave took the one on her other side. Maybe they’d sensed some animosity between her and the older man.
“Drinks?” Rory asked waving a hand at his own glass of scotch. “I remember you had a thing about my malt scotch.”
No way was she touching the stuff today. She wanted a clear head. “Water will be fine.”
Rory raised an eyebrow but took his seat and studied her. “You’re not at all what I expected you to become.”
“Really?” She kept her tone disinterested. She had a good idea what he’d expected her to become. He’d made that clear at their last meeting.
“Actually, I like the scar.” He gave a small smile. “Gives you character.”
She smiled sweetly; she’d been practicing. “That’s nice. I aim to please.”
Beside her, Steve choked on a mouthful of water, and she reached across and patted him on the back.
Rory’s eyes narrowed on the movement. “So,” he said, “I hear you went back to see Declan yesterday and I know you stayed for a while.”
He didn’t sound too bothered by the idea. Had she suddenly become acceptable? “Still spying on him?”
Before he could answer, the door opened and Declan stepped through. He closed the door behind him and stood just inside the room, taking in the occupants. Like yesterday, he was immaculately dressed in a dark suit and tie, his hair in place. The only sign of his close encounter with death was a cut on his forehead.
Staring at the jagged red line, the fact sank in: he could have died that morning. The idea made her want to lock him away somewhere safe until all this was sorted. And she couldn’t understand the reaction.
Declan nodded at Dave and Steve, ignored his father, and finally focused on Jess. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he stared.
…
Once again, she wasn’t wearing any makeup but her lips were pink, maybe a little swollen from his kisses yesterday. Her dark blue eyes held no expression.
There was a seat opposite her, but first he went and grabbed the bottle of scotch and a glass from the sideboard behind his father. He took it to the table and sat down, poured himself a drink, and swallowed it in one go. He looked up to find everyone watching him with varying expressions, from Jess’s deadpan, to the two men’s disapproval, to his father’s…amusement?
“Was the hotel okay?” his dad asked.
“It was fine.”
“You could always come and stay with me.”
“I don’t think so.”
His father cast a glance at Jess. “Worried I’ll cramp your style?”
“No. Anyway, it’s only for one night. Paul’s finding me an apartment to rent. One I can move into immediately.”
Jess cleared her throat. Loudly. “Er…do you think we can move on here?”
He sat back in his chair and smiled. “Of course.”
“So have you changed your mind? Is the job on?”
He held her gaze. “The job is on.” He tried to read her expression, but she was giving nothing away. Back when she was seventeen, he’d been able to read her every thought. She’d hidden nothing, flashed every emotion for everyone to see. Somewhere along the way she’d learned to hide that and he felt a flicker of sadness. She’d been so full of life, fizzing with energy. Like a wild fire, liable to go out of control at any moment.
That last meeting, at the hospital, she’d been full of disbelief. He’d told her they could still be friends and that she should come to him if she needed anything. But he’d had to go, had to get some distance. She turned him into a person he didn’t want to be. The close encounter with the police had shown him that. The police hated his family—and maybe they’d had good reason. His older brother Logan, had already been serving time on some trumped-up assault charge that anyone else would have walked away from.
A week before the crash, she’d stolen a goddamn car. And he’d gone a long with her, because she loved the thrill of danger.
And so did he. He’d just buried it deep.
She’d brought him face to face with a side of himself that he’d always kept under rigid control. A side that at eighteen had craved walking on the wild side. And that was why he’d had to leave.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’ve accepted I need professional help.” He shrugged. “I thought the shooting was maybe a one-off that they wanted to make a point. Scare me a little.”
“And now?”
“Now I think they want me dead.”
She raised a brow, opened her mouth, but at that moment the door opened and a waitress wheeled in a trolley with lunch. They were all quiet as she served them, filling glasses with white wine and placing plates of lobster-tail salad in front of each of them. He wasn’t hungry and ignored the food, instead poured himself another glass of scotch. He sat back and sipped it, watching her.
The men all tucked into the food, but Jess picked up her fork and then placed it down again. “Why us?” she asked.
“Your company has an excellent reputation.”
“So do a lot of companies.”
“Okay, because I know you and trust you.”
“Really?” She definitely sounded skeptical. Relaxing back, she rubbed a finger over her plump lower lip while she considered him.
She was wearing another black pantsuit that looked identical to yesterday’s and a white shirt. Maybe she bought her clothes in bulk. Her jacket was buttoned up tight, but he could see the faint bulge of a shoulder holster beneath the material. She was armed and dangerous. His lips curled at the thought.
“Something funny?” she asked, her tone mild.
“Not at all. I was just wondering if you’re always armed.”
“Of course not. Just when I think a gun might come in handy.”
The look she gave him made it clear just what use she would like to put the gun to.
“So you’ll accept the job?” his dad asked, putting down his knife and fork and taking a sip of wine. The others hadn’t touched theirs, but maybe they already considered themselves on duty.
He held his breath while he waited for her answer, though he knew it would be yes. However cool she was pretending to be, she wasn’t immune to him. Yesterday, she’d come apart in his arms. He had a flashback to her, hot, wet, clenching around his dick, and twitched in his pants.
“Yes, providing your son agrees to follow our advice.”
“Of course,” he murmured. “Within reason.”
“What would you consider unreasonable?”
“I refuse to hide away. I refuse to let these bastards dictate what I can and can’t do. Where I go.”
She pursed her lips. “Fair enough.”
“Money is no object,” his father put in.
“That’s good to know. So,” she said sounding brisk and busines
slike, “I’ll coordinate the job, but Dave and Steve will be responsible for the team and one of them will be on duty at all time. You haven’t met Steve.” She turned to the man at her side. He was tall, dark-haired, good-looking and she smiled at him, then rested a hand on his arm in a familiar way. Declan’s gaze fixed on the gesture, his jaw tightening. Only the fact that the man’s eyes widened a fraction saved him.
Jess was trying to wind him up. Trying to make him believe there was something more than a professional relationship between the two of them.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I want you on the team. I want you protecting me.”
“Why?”
“I told you, I trust you. But also there are situations where a male bodyguard might be inconvenient. I have some sensitive meetings coming up, business dinners. You’ll be less confrontational.”
Dave snorted in disbelief. Obviously, it wasn’t only with him that she was hostile.
“Okay, appear less confrontational.” For a minute, he thought she would argue, but then she gave an abrupt nod.
“Okay, you’ll have to provide us with your schedule. Mark on it any situations where you think the guys will be too…confrontational and I’ll see if I can fit them in.”
“Good of you.”
“Yes, it is.” She rose to her feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I must go visit the ladies’ room. Why don’t you start working on that schedule with the guys?”
…
Jess took a deep breath. What she actually needed was some fresh air. Her skin was flushed and she felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She hurried from the room, ignoring the sensation of his eyes following her every move.
Ever since he’d entered the room, she’d had to fight back the memories of them together. His hard body pressing her back against the wall, his hard cock filling her. She hoped he wasn’t going to have this effect on her all the time or it would make working with him a little…
She exhaled loudly as the door closed behind her. She suspected Declan was quite aware of the effect he had on her and was expecting a repeat performance. Maybe that was the real reason he had asked for her to be added to the bodyguard detail. What she needed to understand was why she had said yes.
Or was she deluding herself. Again. Would she take the first opportunity to shag him mindless? All in the name of putting the past behind her.
She headed across the main room and through a door into the corridor that held the ladies’ room, but she walked straight past to a second door at the end of the hallway. As she pushed it open, a waft of cool air brushed over her cheeks. There was a hint of rain in the air, misting her skin. The door led into an alley that ran alongside the building and opened up thirty feet away onto the main street. Traffic rumbled in the distance as she let herself out. Leaning against the brick wall, she opened her jacket and ran a hand around the back of her neck. Her skin was clammy, and strands of her long ponytail clung to her neck. Maybe she should have it all cut off. In the army she’d kept it short but hadn’t had it cut since, except when she attacked it with a pair of nail scissors if the split ends got too bad.
Declan had loved her long hair. Yeah, maybe it was time for a cut.
As though she had conjured him up with a thought, he stepped out of the door into the alley. Unsurprised, she realized she’d been expecting him in a weird, subconscious sort of way.
He came to a halt directly in front of her, his gaze fixed on her face. “I thought we should talk. I’m sure we both have questions.”
“Maybe we should.” She tilted her head and returned his scrutiny. Her heart hitched; he was so beautiful, just looking at him started an ache in her chest. She pushed the feeling aside. He was right; she had questions. “I’ll go first. Why did your father throw the two of us together?”
His lips curved in a small smile. “He’s matchmaking.”
“What?” She shook her head. “But he hates me.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. He thinks I’m a robot and need to get a life outside the business. He’s been dangling just about every fuckable woman in London under my nose since I got here. Today he came right out and admitted it.”
She didn’t like the thought of that. “And did you…fuck any of them I mean?”
He grinned. “Only you.”
Shit, she shouldn’t like that, but it made her feel all warm and fuzzy.
“My turn,” he said. “Why did you really come back yesterday? Why take this job?”
She sighed and tugged on her ponytail. “You already know. I told you, I want to move on, and right now you seem to be a stumbling block. So I’m facing up to my issues. Head-on. If you’d stayed, I would no doubt have realized you were a prick back then and dumped you myself. But you walked away. I’ll never forgive you, but I want to forget you.”
His lips tightened for a second, and then he shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“Plus, I really do have to prove myself with this job if I want my promotion.”
“So, we spend some time together, hopefully my dad will back off the matchmaking, you’ll get me out of your system, and you’ll do it so nicely that you’ll get a promotion.”
“It’s a win-win situation,” she said. At least in theory.
He swiped his tongue over his lower lip and regarded her for long seconds. “You know I want you?”
She gave a jerky nod.
“And are you going to let me have you. Is that part of the deal? It’s really the only way you’ll get me out of your system. I suggest we fuck often and long until we’re both sated and you can crawl away.”
He took a step closer, and her every nerve went on alert, her skin tingling. Part of her hated that he made her feel so alive, but at the same time she reveled in the sensations. There was a sense of inevitability as his head lowered to hers and he took her mouth in a deep, wet kiss. She opened beneath him and his tongue pushed inside, filling her. He tasted of scotch, and the smoky flavor invoked memories that heated her body. Without thinking, she raised her hands, her fingers sinking in the short silky hair at the back of his neck and holding him against her. He deepened the kiss, so she thought he might devour her, pushing her back against the rough wall, his body hard, his erection obvious. He was breathing fast as he raised his head and stared down into her face.
“Tell me you weren’t sitting at that table, remembering the feel of my cock inside you.” He emphasized the words with a shift of his hips, pushing against her belly so a pulse started between her thighs, and she pressed up against him, unable to stop the movement.
It started to rain, the drops almost hissing against her heated skin. She didn’t want to think anymore, and she pulled him down to her. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his teeth nipping the skin where her shoulder met her throat, then soothing the bite with slow strokes of his tongue.
“You wanted me to be jealous in there. Maybe I need to mark you as mine.” He sucked the skin of her throat between his lips. He was giving her a goddamned love bite and she couldn’t stir herself to do anything about it. Hell, she liked it.
“You always loved fucking outside. Anywhere and everywhere.”
“You didn’t,” she said. He’d liked to make love in bed, where he could take his time. But she had loved the added edge, the fear of being found. Now that didn’t factor into it at all, she just loved the feel of his mouth on her skin, his big hands tugging her shirt out of her pants, his palm hot against her belly, smoothing up over the sensitive skin, then cupping one breast in his palm, rubbing over the nipple. He reached between them with his other hand, flicking open the buttons so the material parted. Leaning back slightly, his hand slipped inside her bra to free one breast. He took the nipple into his mouth and suckled hard so flashes of pleasure shot to her groin, flooding her sex. He nipped with his teeth while his knee rode up between her thighs, pushing against her core.
The sensations were spiraling inside her, and she didn’t protest as his
hand pushed inside her pants, down beneath the cotton of her panties.
“Christ, you’re wet. You want to come, baby. Here, outside, while your friends wait for you?”
She didn’t care. She needed this. She rested her head back against the wall, eyes closed, the rain falling on her upturned face as one finger pushed inside, then spread the moisture up over her clit. As he found the tight, swollen nub, she let out a gasp. He rubbed over it with his hard finger, massaging, as the pleasure built.
“You like? Next time I’m going to kiss you here, suck you and lick you until you come all over my face.” His murmured words, and the image they evoked, tipped her over the edge, and she came hard, pushing against his hand. He pinched her clit, and her knees nearly gave way as she came again.
Finally, he withdrew his hand. Her lids flickered and she found him watching her, beads of moisture glistening on his skin. He raised his hand to his mouth, licked his fingers, and she nearly came again.
“Holy shit,” she muttered.
“Yeah. Well, one of us is sorted. My turn now.” He reached out, took her hand where it hung limp at her side, and pressed it against his groin. He was hard, huge, pressing against his fly. A car passed the end of the alley, and she had a moment of awareness as to where they were. Down an alley, in central London, in broad daylight. But before sanity could totally take over, she tightened her hand around him through the soft material and he groaned. She loved the sound.
She rubbed up and down the length of his shaft, then hesitated, her fingers on the fastener, just a moment.
“Come on, Jess, you’re killing me here.” She’d always loved the power she had over him, how she could make him beg. Outside of sex, he’d always been the one in control. But in these moments, he’d been hers.
She flicked open the button, put her hands to the zipper—
“Jess?” The voice came from inside the building, and she went still.
“Fuck,” Declan cursed under his breath. He looked around as if there was someplace to disappear, but apart from the main street there was nowhere. “I don’t suppose you’d tell them to piss off?” he asked.
