by Olivia Arran
He sniffed the glass, then set it down gingerly in the sink, his face grim. “Cyanide.”
What? I let him drag me across the room, away from the offending drink.
“Enough to kill you in minutes.” He didn’t give an excuse as to how he knew this, he just stated it as a fact.
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to push away the sick feeling in my stomach. “How do you know that?”
He tapped his nose. “Good sense of smell.”
I nearly laughed out loud. Did his clients usually fall for his bullshit excuses? They must think him a regular superhero.
The ice cubes clinked together as they melted, the sound mocking me.
The kettle shrieked, drowning out his voice.
He froze, eyeing it warily from across the room.
Nothing happened.
“Cole—”
Taking one last look at the kettle, he grabbed my hand and pushed me toward the doorway. “We have to get out of here.”
“But—”
“Now!” he growled, urging me to move faster.
I dug my heels, realizing he was aiming for the front door.
Whirling around, I pinned him with my best don’t-mess-with-me look. “You need to explain why.”
“If the cyanide is decomposing and releasing a gas, it could blow—”
The world exploded around us, my ears ringing in protest. He shoved me down, his body spasming above mine in a macabre dance. I sucked in a breath, soft cotton filling my mouth, blocking my nose. I couldn’t breathe! He was heavy, so heavy, and I couldn’t— I pushed, my fingers digging into his chest, my legs kicking.
He rolled off me with a grunt.
Fire burned in my chest as I sucked in a big lungful of air. Specks of dust floated and danced in front of my eyes. I blinked, the tile cool beneath me, the ceiling raining charred powder. “What...what happened?” My voice was tinny, sounding distant and distorted. I turned my head.
Cole blinked back at me, his jaw tight, his face a funny gray color under his tan. “Someone definitely tried to kill you.” He tried to sit, wincing at the movement.
Tried to… My mind blanked, and the room began to dim.
“Hey! Don’t go passing out on me.” His voice was still distant, but his breath was hot on my face. He patted my cheek, his fingers rough with calluses.
He had lovely eyes, so green and vivid and clear. No hidden secrets. No worries keeping him up at night.
“Shit.” I read the curse from his lips.
Gorgeous lips, soft yet firm.
“What?” I whispered as his brow creased. Even his frown lines were cute.
“You’re in shock.”
“I am?”
He nodded, the movement pulling another wince from him.
I struggled up to sitting, my stomach rolling as my head reeled. “Are you hurt?” My words trailed off as I got my first good look at him. And my apartment. Cole’s T-shirt was littered with holes, large swathes of fabric burned clean away. The walls… I couldn’t get my head around the mess that had once been the kitchen. A stillness settled over me, the numbness welcome.
Without thinking, my hands flew to his chest and tugged the soft cotton up, wrenching it over his head.
“Hey,” he protested weakly.
“You’re hurt.”
Large hands closed around mine. “I’m fine.”
“No. You’re hurt. You have to be. Look at the walls.” I tried to pull my hands back. I needed him to turn around. I needed to see the damage.
“Natasha.” He tugged me closer.
I pulled away, craning my neck.
“Natasha,” he repeated, this time pressing my hands against his chest. “I’m fine. See?”
His heart thudded under my palm, his skin hot, little hairs curling against my hand. I finally looked up at him, searching his eyes for hidden pain. “You... I...” I couldn’t speak. He could have died trying to protect me. If he hadn’t been a shifter, he would have died. Actually… “How are you not hurt?”
He let go of my hands and reached for his shirt, scrunching it into a ball. “Most of it missed me. It’s only surface wounds.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
So that’s how he was going to play this? I made myself nod, as though accepting his sorry-ass excuse for an explanation as truth. He wasn’t hurt, so why did it matter if he lied to me?
But he’d proved one thing—he could protect me. That moment in his arms had been the safest I’d ever felt. Ever. Apart from the whole not being able to breathe thing of course.
I looked down, unable to stand the fact that he wouldn’t look at me. I found myself staring at the most delicious chest I had ever seen, and I’d worked with some of the highest paid models and movie stars in the business. It was exactly as I’d imagined: broad and tanned and cut with definition. The only thing my imagination had failed to conjure up was the hair. A lot of the guys in the business didn’t have hairy chests, and I’d forgotten what a real man looked like. There was nothing waxed and perfect about Cole. He was just as God had made him. Wolf and all. I was nearly one hundred percent sure he carried a wolf inside him now, with the way he moved and the glint in his eye. He reminded me of—
“You’re staring,” he murmured, his voice husky with need.
“I’m not.” My denial was weak and lacking conviction. Maybe because my eyes were glued to his chest. Hang on, they were traveling lower now, as if they had a mind of their own. The spattering of hair narrowed, arrowing down. The happy trail. Okay, maybe I had a concussion or something.
“Natasha…” My name was a low growl, snapping me out of whatever spell I had fallen under. Now he was meeting my eyes, and his were burning with an intensity that threatened to set my hair curling.
“Do you still want the job?” The question came out clipped as I valiantly tried to pull myself back together.
He nodded, his gaze narrowing.
“Then consider yourself hired.” I lurched to my feet, hands dusting off my clothes. “I have to finish this job, so I need you to protect me for the duration. A few different locations, shooting for print and TV, it should be finished in two weeks. Does that sound doable?” I turned away, my feet carrying me into the kitchen where I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Twisting the cap loose, I braced a hand on the counter and took a long drink.
“Two weeks?” His voice was close behind me, and I stifled a jolt.
“Two weeks,” I echoed, continuing to study the wall. Tension crept through my shoulders. Just two more weeks and then I’ll be free…
A low growl sounded behind me, faint and strangled. “And then what? You think he’ll stop?”
It wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to find me by then, but Cole didn’t know that. Didn’t need to know. “I need you for two weeks. Is that acceptable?”
I forced ice into my voice, at the same time straightening my spine. Even knowing I shouldn’t, I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder. He was staring at me, his eyes glowing emerald green. Heat slid through me, burning away any doubt that I was doing the right thing. He will make sure I live long enough to have my second chance at life.
“It’s a start,” he eventually murmured, running a hand through his hair and sending white dust flying. “Just know that when I take a job, I see it through to the end.”
It almost sounded like a threat.
“Pack a bag and we’ll get going.”
At his words I spun around. “A bag?”
“You can’t stay here. He knows where you are.”
“I’ll call my agent, get her to—”
“No.”
“No?”
“How did he find you this time?”
“I don’t know but—”
“I can keep you safe, but only if you do exactly what I tell you.” He turned and stalked off down the corridor, his wide shoulders filling the narrow space.
I scuttled after him, his words grating on me. “What do you mean, exactly
what I tell you?”
He stopped abruptly and I crashed into him, bouncing off his back. “Exactly that. No questions, no second-guessing. What I say goes.”
“But—”
“Or find someone else to protect you.”
He was bluffing, he had to be. “Look at me,” I demanded. He wasn’t allowed to talk to me like this!
He didn’t turn around.
I changed tactics. “Cole, please look at me.”
The breath left his body with an audible sigh, a shudder running through him. He twisted his upper body, craning his neck to meet my eyes. “This isn’t up for negotiation, Natasha. Someone just tried to kill you, and I can’t…I won’t let that happen. I need you to do as you’re told. Is that so hard?”
I gulped at the dark expression on his face, the twist of his mouth, the furrow in his brow. His jaw was clenched, and a vein was thudding in his neck. The man was pissed, his body thrumming with tightly controlled tension.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Just two weeks…
Chapter Six
Cole
Relief cascaded through me at her quiet acceptance. The woman was a bag of contradictions, ice cold one minute, soft and welcoming the next. My wolf didn’t know what to make of her, and the man in me wasn’t much help either. One thing I did know was that when someone had tried to kill her in front of me, they had made a fatal mistake. She was mine to protect now.
I watched her shove clothes in a bag, blunt teeth worrying her bottom lip.
I mentally strapped my hands to my sides, forcing myself to maintain watch. Just because the threat had failed didn’t mean he wouldn’t try again. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted, no matter how kissable her plump lips looked.
Or how luscious her ass looked wiggling in the air as she struggled to close the bag.
Hip bumping her out of the way, I tugged the canvas shut, sliding the zipper locked. “Is that everything?”
She darted into the bathroom and returned with a small carry case. “Yes.”
“Let’s go. Stay behind me.” Lifting her bag onto my shoulder, I strode down the corridor, stretching my shifter senses to the max. Reaching the front door, I scanned the hallway. Clear. I grabbed her hand, tugging her behind me and giving the open box of lilies a wide berth. Boycotting the elevator, I shoved open the door to the stairwell. Pausing, I glanced back at her. At first glance she didn’t obviously look like the Natasha Silk, but there was no denying that she was a head-turner. “Put your hood up,” I grunted out, tearing my eyes away.
Her hand flew to her head, sliding the wool into place. Large brown eyes blinked at me, her face pale and bloodless.
“You’re going to be fine. Just make sure you stay behind me and do everything I say.”
She nodded, for once silent.
I bit back a curse as her lip quivered, the only outward sign that she was scared shitless. I started down the stairs, taking them two at a time, my ears straining, my heart jumping at every thud and clank echoing through the building. Her hand was small and cold clasped in mine, her nails digging tight as she struggled to keep up. The light in the stairwell flickered and buzzed with a hollow clink as our steps were muffled by the thick carpet. Windows marked our descent, portholes flashing glimpses of the glowing city lights. Nearly there. I slowed as we approached the bottom floor. Muffled voices reached my ears.
The door slammed open as we were rounding the corner.
I pushed her up against the wall, molding her body against mine and swallowing her gasp of surprise with my lips. She shuddered against me, her hands flailing against my chest, the bags abandoned on the floor as I pressed myself against her, arms caging her head in for my kiss. Nipping at her bottom lip, I splayed my hand over her face, my fingers tracing her cheek and cupping her jaw.
Her lips fell open on a sharp yelp and I swooped in, my tongue stroking deep inside her mouth and seeking hers. Hooking a hand around her hip, I tilted her to me, her softness cradling my hardening cock. Exquisite and distracting.
The voices grew louder.
She stiffened against me, finally understanding.
My wolf howled inside of me, lashing out at my human skin. I licked at her lips, feather-soft caresses inviting her to play, then rocked my hips against her. I wanted her attention on me.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes flickering open to stare into mine. Heat dusted her cheeks, her gaze cloudy and unfocused.
A distant part of me noted the couple passing us as a soft giggle and an answering rumble of laughter trailed off as they continued up the stairs.
Then there was complete silence only pierced by the ragged sound of our breath, and the thudding of our hearts.
“Cole—” she started, her eyes widening at what she must have read in my face.
Why hadn’t I seen it? Her lemon scent wrapped around me, tugging at my straining cock.
Mate, my wolf growled as my human mind finally understood.
Fear paralyzed me, winding through my bones and sending my pulse rocketing. I had found her. The one woman I had spent a lifetime dreaming about, wondering what she would be like, who she would be. And she was Natasha Silk—world-famous billionaire supermodel. She was the woman every man lusted over and fantasized about. Anyone else would think they’d won the goddamn lottery.
I stepped back, the air between us immediately frigid. “Come on.” My voice was gruff with a command as I grabbed the bags off the floor and pulled her after me.
Lines creased her brow as she tugged at my hand, digging her heels in. “Is something wrong?” she hissed.
Everything. “No.”
She didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes—the way they narrowed in thought. “I said I’d do everything you told me to, but that means you have to be honest with me. I understand why we just…why you…” her voice trailed off, heat flooding her cheeks before she continued, “but why are you looking at me like that?”
I wanted to ask her exactly what she could see in my face, what she thought it meant, but on the other hand I didn’t want to know. She needed an answer, preferably one that would get her moving sooner rather than later.
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I actually did.” Blunt, but it was kind of the truth. Vaguely. It was taking every ounce of willpower I possessed not to pin her against the wall and finish what we’d started.
She recoiled as if I’d slapped her.
Fuck. What was wrong with me? I’d admit I wasn’t a ladies’ man with a smooth tongue, like Angel, but I could usually manage to talk to a woman without insulting them. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever,” she snapped out, waving away my excuses. I could see her tugging herself back together, weaving her icy facade between us. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to put yourself through the…hardship again.”
I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tug her close, make her understand how I really felt, but I couldn’t. My body was frozen with indecision as my mind flared with panic.
So, I did what any reasonable man would do, I clamped my lips together and nodded. There’d be plenty of time later to figure this all out, but first I needed to get her to safety.
I was taking her home with me.
Chapter Seven
Natasha
Cole had barely spoken three words during the drive, his hands pinned to the wheel as he steered his massive overgrown truck through late-night traffic. His jaw was locked tight, his face illuminated by the brief flare of passing streetlights, highlighting his five o’clock shadow and lips stretched thin with tension.
I huddled in my seat, fighting against curling in on myself and forcing my hands to rest easy on my lap. There was no reason to be afraid of the man next to me. He wouldn’t hurt me. Deep down I knew he wouldn’t. But the jumping pulse in his throat, the twitch at the corner of his eye—something was wrong. And for some reason, I didn’t think it was the fact someone had tried to kill me.
Not
that he’d tell me. He’d shut me down as quickly as he’d stuck his tongue down my throat.
My pulse jumped as I remembered how it had felt to be cornered by him, the utter bliss of not being in control for once. Not worrying about how it looked, what people would think. All responsible thoughts had been shoved aside by him. There had been no room for thinking. His sheer presence had dragged a response from my soul, his mouth demanding and hands questing until I had surrendered.
A shudder teased my senses, liquid heat throbbing through me as I indulged the memory, anything to block out the sheer panic that threatened to overwhelm me. Someone had tried to kill me. Like cold water being poured over my head, the shudder this time was distinctly unpleasant.
A loud creaking noise caught my attention. Muscles corded his arms where they were braced against the steering wheel. His bare chest rose and fell as he sucked in a deep breath.
“Where are we going?” My voice sounded strange in the silence.
No reaction.
“Cole, I said—”
“My home,” he eventually ground out, his lips barely moving. He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were pinned to the road.
I was pretty sure that even if he hadn’t been driving, he would’ve been doing everything in his power to avoid me anyway. Why? What had I done? I mentally shook my head; it didn’t matter anyway. I’d hired him to do a job, and so long as he did it, then we didn’t have a problem.
I relaxed back into the seat, calm washing over me. So what if he had issues? They weren’t anything to do with me. Liar, liar, pants on fire, a voice whispered in my head.
Green eyes flicked to me, then back to the road.
I closed my eyes, letting the rumble of the road beneath us flow through me, the passing lights tinting my closed lids pinky-red. The truck slowed, the indicator flicked on, and then we lurched to the right. Opening my eyes, I took in the long, sweeping driveway outlined by a tall line of trees. At the top stood a large house, a massive structure of gray stone and steep-vaulted slate roof. Twin columns stood on either side of a solid wooden door holding up an overhang just big enough for shelter. All around us was forest, which I knew had to be an illusion because we had to be still be in the city.
