“Does banged up count as sexy?”
“It does.” She ran her fingers across his scar. “Which is in fact my entire point. I’m going to blow your mind and quote one of my great inspirations in life right now. ‘The moment you accept yourself is the moment you become beautiful.’ Coco Chanel.”
His laugh took him by surprise. It started deep in his belly and surged through him like a tidal wave. She smiled patiently as he got that laugh out of his system. It felt so good to let loose like that. “Chanel, the one who makes the perfume? My grandmother used to wear Chanel Number Five.”
“Don’t get distracted.” She swatted him lightly on the chest. “My point is that the sooner you accept your loss of hearing, the sooner you can do something beautiful with it.”
“Hm.” At the moment, he didn’t care about his hearing one bit. His other senses were taking over. The subtle fragrance of jasmine that always clung to Serena. The softness of her skin against his chest. The sumptuous curves of her breasts under that diabolically designed black dress. “Speaking of beautiful, you really do look incredible tonight. This dress…” He skimmed his fingers across the tops of her thighs, where the hem was riding up. “Coco Chanel would be so proud.”
She shifted under his light stroking. He felt her heat against his thighs, and his cock responded, swelling in his dress pants. Her fingers skipped down to his belt buckle. Just the sight of her deft hands against the black leather sent another surge of blood to his erection.
He inched her hem higher, exposing new territory for him to touch and explore. The sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The firm curve of her hips. The delicate knobs of the bones there. Every part of her was passionate and generous, and lust gripped him with a hot bite. The shadow between her thighs called to him like temptation itself. His mouth watered. He wanted to delve deeper, to feel her most intimate parts against his tongue, to feel her shudder under his mouth.
From the flare of her eyes, the parting of her lips, she was right there with him. As he stroked her inner thighs, he watched her moisten her lips with her tongue, saw her pulse beat in her throat.
“Serena…”
His exploring hands reached her most private parts, and he pressed his thumbs into the twin notches next to her panties. She gave a soft moan and tilted her head back, sending a rich tumble of wine-red hair down her back.
“Serena, God, you’re so beautiful.”
Then he paused, hands stilling on her inner thighs, as he remembered the words that had somehow slipped right out of his mind. Watch out for this one. There, you’ve been warned.
16
Serena’s eyes flew open, her trance broken. The way Griffin had been touching her, she’d lost all sense of time and space. He’d created a magic spell with his strong hands and knowing touch.
And then he’d stopped, leaving her with her heart in her mouth and her pulse racing like the Kentucky Derby.
“What’s wrong?”
He clasped her thighs gently, one hand on each. And God help her, even that light touch sent liquid heat rushing to her lower belly. Her sex clenched with desire, even though her brain knew something had changed.
“Who was that man at the party? Is he really a senator?”
“Former. But he still calls himself senator so that just shows you how full of himself he is.”
“Okay…” He sat up higher on the couch, putting a little more distance between them. “How did you manage to piss off a former senator? Come to think of it, does Jake know anything about this?”
“He knows the gist.” Defensive now, she tried to rise off his lap, but he didn’t let her.
“Does he know you don’t usually go by Serena?”
“Maybe. Do I seem like a Serena? All calm and peaceful?”
“Nope. I actually had that same thought when I first met you, when you gave me all that attitude at the bar.” The heat from his hands sank into her thighs and coursed into her bloodstream like some kind of drug. How could she still want him so much when he was looking at her with narrowed, wary green eyes?
But she did. Damn it.
“Come on, Alison Serena Riggs. To be a good bodyguard, I ought to know why some former senator is talking trash about you. I showed you mine, you show me yours.”
“I don’t suppose an actual strip show will satisfy you?”
Even though heat flared in his eyes, he shook his head. “Not saying it wouldn’t, but I want to know what I’m dealing with here. That dude looked like he could hold a grudge. Definitely not someone you want to run into in a dark—”
“Country club?” she finished his sentence drily.
He laughed. “Yeah.”
She worried at her lower lip. She honestly hadn’t expected to have to deal with anything related to Senator Walker again. “The whole thing is slightly ridiculous. I did something…unwise and it created a scandal. It got so crazy that I decided to leave San Francisco for a while. Right around then I got the information about my dad, and…you’ll keep this to yourself, right? I don’t want my Rocky Peak friends hearing about it.”
“Of course.” He said it impatiently, as if the question hardly needed to be asked. “I’m an outstanding keeper of secrets. You can ask my family, or anyone on the motocross tour. I am the vault.”
“Okay, then.” She couldn’t do this while sitting on his lap, as good as that felt. “Release me, please, so I can nervously pace the floor while I tell you this story.”
“You’re really asking a lot,” he grumbled. “I like having you on my lap.”
“Same. But I need a little space, please.”
He released her, and she slid off his lap, dress nearly to her waist. She smoothed it back into place, savoring his look of regret as she covered her legs. This humming chemistry between them gave her such a thrill, it almost made up for the sordid tale she was about to relate.
“As you now know, my name is Alison Serena Riggs and I make my living as an artist.”
He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, his shirt still open, the tails tugged out of his belt. He looked so sexy that another bolt of heat shook her to the core. She ignored it and continued. “Over the years, I developed a kind of niche specialty. I’m an exceptionally good portrait painter. Most of my commissions are from old money families who still believe in memorializing themselves on canvas. Photographs are one thing, but an oil painting, that’s old school, family money, upper class shit.”
“Gracie said you do police sketches.”
“I started out doing police sketches, but now that’s just a volunteer gig. That work means a lot to me. I’ve helped catch quite a few criminals. But that’s not how I know the senator.”
She paused for a long sip of ginger ale to wet her mouth. “I keep forgetting to put all this in the past tense. I used to volunteer. That work used to mean a lot to me. I haven’t done much painting or sketching since I left San Francisco. All my supplies are back home, for one thing.”
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” he said softly. “Like a limb you can still feel after it’s been amputated.”
Of course he understood exactly what she meant. When everything in your life changed so suddenly, your heart and mind had a hard time keeping up. She gave him a smile so tender it made him blink.
“Exactly. Anyway, Senator Walker hired me to do a portrait of him for the family gallery. I accepted before I’d even looked into his background. Then as I started painting him, and he talked to me, or more like, lectured—he has opinions about everything, super-judgmental—the more I disliked him. He stands for everything I despise. He wants to tell everyone else how to live their lives, but thinks his shit doesn’t stink. He’s got the power and everyone else just has to shut up and take it.”
“I get the picture.”
“Right. So, anyway, he wanted this pretty country backdrop, because he represents a lot of ranchers and farmers. Which I gave him. Cornfields, red tractor, it was lovely. And—well, I also added a few workers in
the background. Strong young farmhands. And two of them might have—” she winced, because honestly it seemed so silly now. “Two of them might have been kissing.”
She peeled open one eye to see Griffin’s jaw drop open. Then he tilted his head back and roared with laughter. “No way.”
“Yep. I put it in as a joke, I figured I’d paint them out right away as soon as he caught on. But he never did! He was so mesmerized by how good I made him look that he didn’t notice the background. He loved the portrait so much that he got his press office to set up some stories about it. That’s when people started to notice.”
“Uh oh.” Griffin looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.
“Yeah, uh oh. His followers went nuts. They were afraid he’d suddenly changed his platform or something. He had to do all kinds of damage control. He actually sued me, and accused me of being some kind of secret agent trying to sabotage him. It blew up into such a big, embarrassing, expensive scandal. I had to hire a lawyer. I publicly apologized to get the lawsuit dropped—not fun. But then it got worse. Trolls started harassing me online. Nasty emails, disgusting comments on all my social media. I closed down all my accounts, changed my email address, but they still managed to track me down. And then someone graffitied my front door, and that was it.”
She paced around the coffee table to quell the nerves that hit her just from telling the story. Reliving it was almost as miserable as going through it the first time.
Griffin’s hands were showing white knuckles and his expression looked lethal, as if he’d welcome the chance to strangle those trolls.
It warmed her heart, to be honest.
“That’s when you left San Francisco?”
“Well, soon after that. I reported it to the police, but it was just graffiti and they didn’t seem too worried about it. I talked to Senator Walker but he claimed he had nothing to do with the trolls. I’d recently spoken to that friend of my dad’s who mentioned Rocky Peak, so the timing seemed perfect for a little break.”
Even though she was telling the story as if the whole thing was mildly funny, it hadn’t been at the time. She’d worried that someone might follow her, so she’d rented a car, changed rentals a couple times, then bought a used car. She hadn’t really relaxed until she reached Rocky Peak and walked into the Last Chance Pub.
“I really owe your brother, you know. If he hadn’t offered me safe haven, I don’t know where I’d be now.”
“Yeah, Jake is a champ.” Still looking deeply troubled, Griffin got to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So the trolls, are they leaving you alone now?”
“I did wonder if they might have left those threatening notes, but I don’t think so. Notes aren’t their style, they’re more about graffitti. They haven’t found my new email address yet. I believe they’ve moved on.”
Griffin nodded, his wide shoulders hunched and tense. “Will that change now that the senator saw you at the party?”
“I hope not. I was surprised that he knew I was living in the mountains now. But my guess is that he wants the whole thing to die down as much as I do. It was such an embarrassment for him. And he swore the trolls weren’t taking orders from him.”
“Do you believe him?”
She bit her lip again. God, it sucked to have to think about all this again. “I don’t know, honestly. I know he hates me. I know what I did was childish. Truth is, he reminded me of my stepfather. I think that’s one reason I decided to try and find my dad. If my dad had been around, he would have supported me, not—”
She broke off, remembering how her stepfather had taken the senator’s side and told her how reckless and juvenile she’d been.
Not that she disagreed. But it would have been nice to have some backup.
“Look, I’m putting on my bodyguard hat now.”
“Really, what does it look like? Is it a helmet kind of thing, with wings? Like Thor? Or more of a hard hat?”
“Cute.” He came toward her, taking her hands in his. “I know you like to put up a strong front, but can we be serious for a second? If the senator still wants to hurt you, he knows where you are. What if he sends someone to follow you? We need to come up with a plan.”
Her heart sank. “I don’t want to leave Rocky Peak. That’s where I need to be to find my father.”
He fixed brooding eyes on her while he took in her distress. She wished she could paint him like this, shirt unbuttoned, sexy chest revealed, hair tousled, eyes dark with concern. “I didn’t say that.”
“What, then? I hate this, I hate feeling like I’m just waiting for another troll to appear. I hate feeling so helpless.”
He ran his hands up and down her arms. “Sweetheart, you aren’t helpless. You’re looking for your father. You’re living your life. You found us. Me and Jake. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
A lump swelled in her throat as she gazed up at him, at the dark beauty of his face, the concern in his eyes.
“What if something happens to you because of me? What if they follow me to Rocky Peak? And you know what else… what if he figures out who you are—I mean, you were one of the star attractions at the party, and I was with you the entire time—”
“Best arm candy ever,” he interjected.
“Then he’ll know to send his troll minions to Rocky Peak. They don’t have to follow us.”
“That’s a lot of if’s,” he pointed out. “If the senator is connected to the trolls, if he still wants to punish you, if he knows who I am. And no matter what, I’m not worried about any of that.”
She shook her head, wringing her hands. The more she thought about it, the bigger the danger seemed. “I should go away. I shouldn’t involve you in this. I’ll look for my father later, when there’s no risk.”
“Fuck that,” he said forcefully. “I’m in this with you. Have you forgotten that I’m your bodyguard? And now you actually might need one. I suddenly have a purpose. I feel alive. Who needs motocross when I can protect a beautiful woman?”
She laughed a little at that, even though pleasure bloomed in her heart. “You don’t need motocross to make you fascinating, Griffin Rockwell.”
The space between them felt electric with potential. One flaring match and it could ignite into something wild and spectacular.
But they had a possibly dangerous situation on their hands. She took a step back before she got too caught up to stop herself. She cleared her throat and wiped her hands on her dress, putting distance between them. When had they gotten so sweaty?
“So what should we do? Should we both get disguises and skip the country?”
Even though she was joking, that didn’t sound like a terrible idea. She pictured herself and Griffin tearing down the coast of Mexico on a motorcycle. Stopping in little beach huts where they could take a dip in the ocean, then spend the night making love until dawn…
She shut that movie down before it got too X-rated.
“Nice thought, but I can’t leave the lodge. Too much to do, and I promised Kai. I had another idea. Something that would mean we’d be spending more time together. Are you okay with that?”
He stepped toward her, closing the distance she’d put between them. She felt his nearness like a pressure wave traveling through her body, setting every nerve on fire.
He touched her cheek briefly, his rough thumb skimming across her skin. She opened her mouth to argue the point, but abandoned the idea because sheer relief flooded through her. She wasn’t alone anymore. Griffin was by her side and she trusted him—possibly more than she’d trusted any man in her life.
Not a surprise—he was head and shoulders above any other man she’d been involved with.
Not that she was involved with him.
Oh, who was she kidding? She was involved with him already. He’d taken over her thoughts, her dreams, her fantasies. She loved talking to him, being with him, looking at him, touching him…
And now she was touching him again, because she really could
n’t seem to stop herself. Standing on tiptoes, she cupped one hand around his neck and flattened the other against his chest. The steady thump of his heart was so reassuring, as was the rock solid musculature under her hand. Griffin was strong, smart, and coolheaded. Not easily intimidated. Brave, though maybe a bit crazy in his choice of profession.
But she knew in her bones that he would protect her with all he had.
“I’m pretty sure I’m okay with that,” she whispered.
His deep green eyes were burning into hers. “Good. Then I want you to stay at the lodge. I can keep a better eye on you there.”
His firm, commanding tone made her shiver with delight. “You want to keep an ‘eye’ on me? Is that all? No hands? Just an eye?”
His firm mouth curved into a smile. “You really want me to answer that?”
She swallowed hard, because now it was completely clear that the two of them stood on a precipice, and it would take just a breath to tip them over the edge.
“You can have one of the guesthouses. We might have to move you from one to the other, because we’re renovating them this winter. The lodge is closed to guests, so you could also have your pick of rooms in the main lodge itself, but I figured privacy might be a priority for you.”
How did he know that? Griffin had a way of picking up on things that always surprised her. “I don’t know, Griff. I don’t want to bring trouble to your family. Your father has a heart condition, and you guys have your hands full with the construction, and—”
“Well, let’s not mention the bit about your father and my mother. Other than that, don’t worry about Mad Max. He’s well known for scaring people off his property that he doesn’t want there. Shotguns, shouting fits, whatever it takes. He’d love to fend off bad guys chasing after a beautiful woman. That’s probably the cure he needs, right there.”
His eyes glittered down at her, pulling her in, closer and closer.
“Seriously, my great-grandfather considered himself a kind of guardian of the mountain, that’s why he set up the fire station outpost. Old Mad Max takes that shit seriously.”
The Rogue Page 12
