Muscle for Hire

by Lexxie Couper

  His cell phone rang.

  The sound of Freddy Mercury singing wailed through the quiet hospital foyer and more than one head turned Aslin’s way. He clenched his jaw, yanked his phone free of his pocket and pressed it to his ear. “Rhodes.”

  “Aslin.” Chris’s broad American accent shot through the connection. “Where are you, dude? She’s checking herself out.”

  Aslin’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s what?”

  “Rowie is checking herself out. Told everyone here she’s fine and dandy, that she doesn’t do hospitals and she’ll promise to come back if she—”

  Aslin didn’t wait to hear the rest. He killed the call, shoved his phone back into his pocket and ran for the stairs.

  Damn it, why the hell did he have to go and fall in love with a bloody stubborn pain-in-the-arse woman?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rowan didn’t need to turn away from the counter to know Aslin stood behind her. She could feel him there—his inescapable stare drilling into the back of her head, the heat radiating from his towering body into hers.

  His anger licked against her senses, tangible and potent.

  Heart beating fast, she continued to sign her name in the required locations, forcing her focus on the point where pen nib touched paper. She refused to hurry even though a small part of her wanted to throw the pen over her shoulder and run as fast as her bruised—and still-wobbly—legs would go.

  Damn it. She’d wanted to be gone by the time he returned.

  “You’re in trouble now, sis.”

  She shot Chris a quick sideward glance. “So are you, tattletale.”

  Her brother laughed, and then did what she was too chicken to do—turn around and look at the Brit behind her. “She’s all yours, Rhodes.”

  Rowan’s heart beat faster. She kept her stare on the pen, watching the black ink form the final loop of the last H in her surname on the discharge form.

  “Care to tell me what you think you’re doing, Hemsworth?”

  His deep voice flowed over her like rumbling thunder. Even with the dull pain still at home in her ribs, her body reacted to its sound. Her pussy contracted, her nipples grew tight.

  “Checking out,” she answered, doing her best to sound nonplussed. She raised her head from the form and smiled at the nurse scowling at her from the other side of the counter. “There you go.”

  Chris’s off-key voice sang softly about being able to check out any time but never leave, his hands tapping on the counter beside Rowan’s paperwork.

  “And where exactly are you going now you’ve checked out?” Aslin asked, an edge to his voice.

  Rowan’s sex constricted again. She was far too aware of the man, of his potent virility and strength. Her brain kept trying to replay his confession of love over and over. Neither helped her now.

  Now she just wanted to get out of the hospital and go…

  She bit back a curse. Aslin was right. Where was she going now?

  Still refusing to look at the man behind her, she cast her brother a hopeful look.

  “Hell, no.” Chris shook his head and took a step back. “I only brought you a new set of clothes ’cause I thought you didn’t want to spend all day in a hospital gown. I didn’t think you were planning on taking off. As far as I’m concerned, you should be back in the gown and the bed.”

  “Which is exactly the doctor’s opinion,” the nurse piped up, retrieving the pen from Rowan’s fingers with a pointed expression.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re being stupid.”

  Aslin’s calm declaration stoked her anger. She pivoted on her newly booted heel, crossed her arms over her tank-top-covered breasts and glared up at him. “I don’t need to be here. The doctor has given me a list of what to look out for. I know not to take aspirin for the next forty-eight hours and—” she cocked an eyebrow, “—I’ve had worse blows before. Professional martial artist, remember? Being knocked on my ass isn’t anything new.”

  Aslin drew his head closer to hers. “Being knocked on your arse by an explosion is.”

  “Keep up the attitude, soldier boy, and I’ll put you on your arse to show you just how fine I am.”

  Something dangerous flared in Aslin’s eyes. “Right,” he murmured. “That’s it.”

  He straightened, shoved a hand in his hip pocket, withdrew it and turned to Chris. “Here you go.” He tossed something to her brother, the distinct sound of metal clinking telling Rowan it was a set of keys. “Where’s Jeff and the SUV?”

  Chris snatched the keys from the air, surprise pulling at his eyebrows. “Jeff is in the cafeteria, no doubt trying to hit on someone. The SUV is on parking level four.”

  As Rowan gaped at them both, Aslin nodded. “The Ducati is yours for the rest of the day. Get Jeff to the car in five minutes.” He turned to face her. “You want out of here. Fine. I’ll take you out of here. Back to my hotel room. At least there I can keep an eye on you.”

  “What?” she burst out.

  “Oh, good idea, Rhodes.” Chris grinned.

  “Very good,” the nurse agreed.

  Rowan’s pulse pounded. “Not a good idea.”

  “Why?” Dark emotion flared in Aslin’s eyes, but what that emotion was Rowan couldn’t tell. “Are you scared of me?”

  Scared? Oh God, scared couldn’t be further from the truth. And yet that’s exactly how her body was reacting. Her heart raced, her palms were sweaty, the hair on her nape was on end and her mouth was dry. If it wasn’t for the fact her damn pussy was contracting and constricting and fluttering like mad she’d say scared was exactly how she felt.

  But all those very feminine, very sexual things were happening to her. At the thought of being in Aslin’s hotel room. Alone. With him. With the man who’d told her he loved her.

  The man she was more than half in love with in return.

  Half? Huh. You’re freaking head over heels, fully, totally and utterly in love with him. Admit it.

  She clenched her jaw and tilted her chin. “No. I’m not scared.”

  And to prove it, she stormed toward the exit, hitching the shorts Chris had snagged from the wardrobe department higher up on her butt to hide the fact her head was still wobbly and her balance was still…unbalanced.

  Behind her, Chris laughed, and then she heard him say, “Get your ass into gear, Jeff. You’re taking Aslin and Rowie wherever they need to go. You can hit on the natives later.”

  She stopped at the closed elevator door and stabbed the down button.

  “Well?” she snapped, turning to glare at Aslin at the counter.

  But he wasn’t at the counter. He was right behind her. So close she could feel his heat on her body. So silent she hadn’t heard him move.

  Damn him.

  And damn her nipples for puckering so hard at his proximity. And his…his…fuck, damn his everything.

  His gaze melded with hers and the corner of his lips curled. “Ready for me to take care of you, Ms. Black Belt?”

  She narrowed her eyes, tilted her chin and ignored the way her sex throbbed with increasing want. “Ready for me to—”

  The elevator binged and opened before whatever pathetic comeback was going to fall from her lips could. She started, her cheeks filling with heat at the very sudden and very raw look of desire that crossed Aslin’s face a second before he cupped his hand around her elbow and guided her inside the empty elevator.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” he said

  He pressed the button for parking level four without looking at her. Nor did he say a word or cast her a look for the duration of the descent. By the time the doors opened with another soft chime, Rowan’s heart was slamming so fast and hard in her chest she wondered if—given the fact she’d survived an explosion only that day—she should call a doctor? By the time she stepped out into the parking level, she was almost gasping.

  “Over here, Mr. Rhodes.”

  The familiar voice jerked her attention to her left, and she found Jeff Co
ulten, the most affable member of Chris’s formal entourage, standing beside a blue Audi SUV, his hand on the rear passenger door’s handle.

  “Let’s go. Or do you need me to carry you?”

  Rowan snarled at Aslin’s question, shucked her elbow from his grip and stormed over to the SUV.

  It would have been all so impressive if she could have made the journey without stumbling mid-distance.

  Aslin slipped his arm around her waist before she could fall too far to the side. It was all Rowan could do to keep walking forward. Her head ached, her ears still sung and her body was telling her under no uncertain circumstances had she been beat up. But at the firm contact of Aslin’s hand on her hip, all worry about remaining on her feet vanished.

  For the first time in her life since her parents’ murder, she allowed herself to lean on someone.

  “It’s going to be okay, love.”

  Aslin’s low murmur drew her gaze up to his face and she swallowed at the undeniable tenderness in his eyes.

  “Is it?” she whispered.

  “I won’t let it be any other way.”

  And then they were at the Audi. Jeff asked how she was in his usual amiable way, Aslin helped her into the backseat and her body told her she needed to rest.

  But she didn’t want to rest. All she wanted to do was wrap her aching, bruised body around Aslin and make love to him until she couldn’t move at all.

  “You okay?”

  She lifted her gaze, finding Aslin sitting beside her in the back. His eyebrows were knitted, worry on his face. A distant part of her mind told her he was wearing his emotions much more openly then when she’d first met him. The British super soldier slash muscle for hire she’d encountered on that first day, a lifetime ago, wouldn’t have let anyone see what he was feeling.

  He paused clipping his seatbelt, studying her face. “You do realize you’re being a stubborn pain the arse, right? Not staying here?”

  She let him see her smile. “I do.”

  His answering smile was crooked. “As long as you know.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were pulling to a stop outside the Sydney Hilton, Jeff filling in the silence the whole way there as only Jeff could—with a constant chuckled narrative about the world around him.

  Rowan was glad for it. There were words in her head that wanted to come out, words like I and love and you. Every time she looked at Aslin sitting beside her, his focus fixed on the road ahead, his sublimely muscled body held tense and alert, she wanted to press her cheek to his chest. She wanted to smooth her arms around his torso, let herself surrender to the strength and protection he wanted to give her, and tell him she loved him too.

  Oh God, she wanted that.

  But that want, that need was beyond any she could bear. So instead, she welcomed Jeff’s constant chatter, ignored his rather questionable driving skills and sat silent.

  Knowing she would soon be alone with Aslin in his room.

  A room in one of Sydney’s more prestigious establishments. “I still say this is swank accommodation for a bodyguard,” she commented, looking at the very luxurious exterior as the valet opened her door.

  “Where did you think I would stay?” Aslin’s deep rumble behind her made her tummy flutter. “A Best Western?”

  She shot him a quick glance over her shoulder. “So Blackthorne pays you well then?”

  “Blackthorne pays me very well. Look it up on the Forbes Top 100 Highest-Paid Bodyguard List. I’m Number Two.”

  Rowan couldn’t stop her eyebrows shooting up. “There’s a Forbes Top 100 Highest Paid Bodyguard list?”

  Aslin grinned. “No. Now get out of the car, Hemsworth, before I come around there and lift you out.”

  If she were feeling more capable, she would have hit him. But she wasn’t. She hurt. She really did. Shutting out the pain wasn’t easy when she was spending so much effort suppressing the need to blurt out how much she wanted him.

  Climbing from the backseat, she bit back a wince as her heels hit the ground.

  Aslin was there before her in a heartbeat, worry etching his face, scooping his hand up to hers to help her out. A small part of her wanted to tell him to piss off. The rest of her—not only the broken, sore bits, but the bits governed by her heart—surrendered to his attentive concern.

  When was the last time she’d let anyone take care of her?

  There was no immediate answer for that, and when she went searching for it, a cold emptiness stroked her soul.

  Her life had been all about Chris for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to be someone else’s anything. For the first few years of Chris’s career, she’d stayed in the background, focusing on her tournaments and martial arts school for kids, determined to let him find his own feet. He was a young man in his early twenties, after all. She knew she’d come close to coddling him since their parents’ death. But then the entourage had formed around him, the wild parties had begun, the excessive indulgences, the reliance on Tilly to do things for him above and beyond that of a personal assistant, and Rowan hadn’t been able to stand idly by any longer. From the minute she’d stepped back into the role of big sister, her life had been about her brother and being the most invulnerable fighter she could be.

  Letting anyone care for her…

  Rowan’s heart tripped a beat and her mouth went dry. It wasn’t just that she was in love with Aslin Rhodes. She trusted him.

  Trusted.

  Which was impossible. She trusted no one. Apart from Chris.

  She swallowed, staring at him as he stepped back from the car, her hand in his.

  His forehead creased. “What?”

  “I—”

  “Want me to stay, Mr. Rhodes?”

  Rowan turned to look at Jeff, who grinned at them both through the driver’s side window.

  “No.” Aslin drew closer to her as he closed the door behind her. “Go back to Chris. And tell him if he damages my bike, I’ll damage him.”

  Jeff laughed. “Will do.”

  With a quick nod to Rowan, Jeff gunned the Audi’s engine and tore away, leaving the valet parking attendant coughing on his fumes.

  “Sorry about that,” Rowan said to the young man. She dipped into her shorts’ pocket to look for a tip before remembering they were from Wardrobe and empty of money.

  “C’mon.” Aslin smoothed his hand down her back and around her waist. “Let’s get you off your feet and into my bed.”

  Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Is it always going to be this way with you, Rhodes? Bossy, arrogant and presumptuous?”

  He flicked her a quick sideward glance. “Yes. It is.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, destroying his attempt at brooding menace.

  Rowan loved it.

  Loved it. Loved him.

  By the time they arrived at his suite on the fourteenth floor, she knew she couldn’t keep it in any longer. Knew she had to tell him, show him, before she exploded like his trailer.

  The sound of the door closing behind her was all she needed. She may have only been two steps into his suite, she may only have left hospital half an hour ago, hell, she may have only just survived some messed-up attempt on her life six hours ago, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

  She turned to Aslin, hooked her fingers over the waistband of his jeans directly above his fly and tugged. She pulled him along as she walked backward toward the suite’s massive king-size bed.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Hemsworth?” His deep voice played with Rowan’s sanity. Stroked over her senses. Teased her control.

  “I’m seducing you, soldier boy. What’s it look like I’m doing?”

  He shook his head, curling his fingers around her wrist to remove her grip on his waistband. “No you’re not. I didn’t bring you here to—”

  Rowan took a step back, slipped her hands under her shirt’s hemline and pulled the item of clothing up over her head.

  Aslin’s argument was abruptly silenced. His nostrils fla
red. His gaze fell to what she’d revealed—her unrestrained breasts, her puckered nipples.

  The muscles in his jaw bunched, his throat working as he studied her offering to him.

  “I want you inside me so bad it hurts,” she stated, never so sure of anything in her life. “Make love to me. Now.”

  He lifted his stare to her face. “No, love, you hurt because someone tried to kill you this morning. And as much as I want to, if I make love to you now, I’ll only hurt you some more.”

  Rowan shook her head, her fingers moving to the fly of her shorts. “No you won’t. I trust you.”

  And before he could utter another word, she released the opening of her shorts and let them fall from her body.

  Chris had not delivered underwear with him when he’d brought the shirt and shorts. He never wore underwear himself, so why would he think to bring some for his sister? Rowan had never been so thankful for that shortcoming.

  The second the soft denim of her shorts pooled around her ankles, she knew she was exactly where she wanted to be.

  The second she stepped out of the bunched item of clothing and destroyed the space between her and Aslin, she knew she was doing exactly what she wanted to do.

  The second—the very second—she took Aslin’s large, strong hands and placed them gently on the curve of her hips, gazing up into his dark, desire-filled eyes, she knew she was exactly with the only person she ever wanted to be with again.

  And when he groaned, a barely audible sound of raw need and tenuous control that she felt it in the pit of her belly, she knew he was the person she was meant for.

  He was the strength she never allowed herself to believe she needed.

  The protection she’d never sought.

  The man she didn’t know she longed for.

  “Aslin,” she murmured, smoothing her hands up his chest, reveling in the coiled steel of his pecs, “you’ll only hurt me if you say stop.”

  “Oh, fuck me.” The words were a hoarse moan. His stare was locked on her, his jaw tight. “I should say stop. You’re in no condition to make love, Rowan. I’d be a sodding, selfish bastard if I—”