Protector of Novah (Valor Knights Book 1)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Sorry, I just needed someone. I’ve known you what…a year?”

  “I’ve worked for you six months.”

  “And you’re levelheaded, smart, and of course, very beautiful.” His gaze dropped to the front of her blouse.

  She shifted on the cushion, uncomfortable. “What can I help you with? It’s late and I have to get up early.”

  “You’ve been married before. Why did you divorce? Did your spouse cheat?”

  Feeling the unnecessary spotlight on her, she gave a partial shake of her head. “No, neither of us cheated. We just grew apart.”

  “ShyAnne and I grew apart a long time ago, or maybe we just never had that strong love that two people need to persevere. You know what I’m saying?”

  “I’m probably not the best one to answer this.”

  He smoothed his hand down his jawline. “You’re loyal, aren’t you, Novah?”

  Was he asking or insinuating? Swallowing the growing lump in her throat, she tugged her skirt down her knees, wishing it were two inches longer. “I believe loyalty is important in everything.”

  “I really can’t understand,” he slurred.

  “Understand what?”

  “How a man could have someone like you in their life and not do everything in his power to keep you.”

  “Thank you.” She moistened her lips. “I appreciate that, but it takes two people in a marriage to make it work. I had my flaws too.”

  “Cheers to that! Two people both working toward a shared goal.” He gulped down the scotch and placed his emptied glass on the sleek metal and glass coffee table. His smile had faded, exchanged for a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “I loved her when I married her. I really did. We all go into marriage thinking we will stay together forever. We can survive the test of time.” He leaned back and crossed his legs.

  “True.”

  “Maybe I just need the right woman in my life.” He placed his hand on her knee.

  “Sir!” She jumped up, flinging his hand away.

  He stood too, but it took great effort. “Come on, Novah. You can’t deny that we have something between us.” He touched her cheek with a cold, clammy hand. She swatted his wrist, taking a fast step back.

  “You’re wrong, Mr. Langley. We don’t have anything between us outside of business. You’re married.”

  “In name only.”

  “It’s the same to me,” she blurted, taking another shaky step back. The backs of her knees bumped the chair and she dropped down into the plush cushion. He was in front of her now, on his knees, blocking her.

  “Let me show you how good I can make you feel.” He placed his hands on her thighs and leaned over her, using his weight to imprison her. “I can eat a woman out like no man can.”

  “That, sir, I’d beg to differ.” She cringed. “Now get off me!”

  He pressed his mouth to hers, forcing his too wide tongue between her lips.

  In the next instant, he let out a deep howl and jerked back, wide-eyed. He grabbed his mouth in shock. “Why did you bite me?” he shrieked. “I’m bleeding!”

  “Why did you kiss me?” She gave him a hard push and he fell back, his drunken state helping in her favor. Jumping up, she readied herself to plant her foot in his jaw if he tried anything more with her. “You have crossed a line.”

  He stood, shaking, and took a step toward her but she held up a hand in warning. “Don’t you dare! I’ll scream the roof off this place.”

  “Novah, let’s talk about this. I-I misread—”

  “No, thank you.”

  Darting a gaze to the door, she knew she’d run into security if she left in that direction. So, she swiveled on her heels and hurried to the set of French doors and practically ripped them open.

  ~~~~~

  Egan strolled across the lawn, his nostrils still full of Novah’s scent, as he joined Mike Gammon on the patio as the sun was starting to set.

  “Everything good, man?” Mike asked.

  “Everything’s fine,” Egan answered. He knew truly little about the youngest man on Langley’s security team, except that he was quiet and nearly as brawny as Banner. Gammon had short, blond hair, pockmarked skin and always wore a friendly smile.

  “Could you imagine, man?”

  “Imagine what?” Egan scanned the perimeter. He could see himself enjoying himself more if his ex-wife weren’t driving him mad. Her taste still lingered on his tongue and he wanted more.

  “Rich enough to afford all this.”

  Egan gave a quick shrug. “Money doesn’t buy you happiness, my friend.”

  “Tell my wife that.” Mike snorted. “Not only is our family growing by one, but she told me today that we need a bigger house. She’s five months pregnant, man. A boy. Our first out of three girls. Damn. Dawn is happy. Is it wrong if my balls are shriveled?”

  “Congratulations, buddy.” Egan felt a streak of envy. If he and Novah were still married, he guessed they would have had a second child, maybe a third or fourth. He’d wanted a large family. “You’re a lucky man. I get the fear though. How are you going to keep three girls safe from boys? I have a girl and I’m already sweating. I swear I age a year each time I think of her as growing into a teen.”

  “Yeah, same here. Can’t you tell?” He patted his paunchy stomach and winked. “Dawn calls this normal, you know, when a man gains weight while his wife’s pregnant. I’ve added twenty pounds since we married.” Although he might have put on weight, the man appeared solid and strong.

  “Again, I’m happy for you with the new baby. It’ll all make sense once you hold him in your arms.”

  “So you only have one?”

  “Just one.”

  “Too bad I’ve become a liability instead of an asset around here.” The tightness in Mike’s voice brought Egan’s gaze on him.

  “What?” Egan had heard that Langley was on a rampage, getting rid of anyone for any reason.

  With an anxious shrug, he rubbed his tight jaw. “I fucked up—”

  Gammon’s words were cut off when the glass doors to Langley’s private patio came flying open. Novah sprinted out, looking like she’d swallowed a razor blade.

  Langley followed, bobbing. “Where are you going?” he yelled after her.

  Novah had her head down as she took the steps then came to a stop when she saw Egan standing there. He tried to read her expression as he fisted his hands.

  “Novah, come back!” Langley slurred.

  Egan took a step forward to interject, but she gave a subtle shake of her head and continued down the steps onto the pristine lawn. Langley, who’d been oblivious to Gammon and Egan until that moment, gave them a bitter snarl then he stepped back through the doors.

  “Money might not buy you everything,” Gammon said, “—but it sure buys you a bit of happiness.” He shook his head. “I better go check the south side.”

  Egan stood there for a long-time, his feet rooted to the concrete. What the hell just happened? His gut clenched. His mind swirled. He looked back at the now closed doors to Langley’s office and felt the need to ram through them like the Hulk. He also had a strong desire to break the man’s neck. Without knowing what had happened, it had only taken a glimpse of Novah’s face to understand that Langley had done something to upset her.

  So what had he done?

  Egan could only guess.

  Feeling like he’d been run over by a truck, he’d come to a Y in the road. If he confronted Langley, his case would blow up. He’d destroy any future cases for VK. And Novah might never forgive him.

  Pissed and needing to hit something, and before Langley became the target of the animosity, Egan dragged his radio from his belt, logged off for the evening, and stomped toward the staff quarters. By the time he reached the door to his room, he’d left Novah ten text messages, one after another, and she wasn’t answering.

  He practically tore the door off the hinges as he entered his room and left a trail of discarded clothes on the floor as he stomped his w
ay toward the small bathroom. Switching on the water to ice-fucking-cold, he stepped under the spray, forcing himself to stay under the blast although his muscles ached. He jerked and spasmed, but he didn’t make a move to switch the knob to warm—not yet. Even when his hands and feet became numb, he stayed there, water pouring over his head. Finally, he turned the knob that brought warmth to his body. Grabbing the bar of soap, he scrubbed his face and torso with a fervor that dripped of jealousy and anger. The two emotions were an interesting combination and could bring a man to his knees. Could he have misunderstood what he saw transpiring between Novah and Langley? Maybe his emotions were causing hallucinations.

  There was a first step to everything and admitting his weakness was the first rung in the ladder to recovery. In this instance, Novah was his weakness, and he needed her. More than his next breath. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

  The bittersweet pain in his balls was constant. He wrapped his fingers around his semi-flaccid dick and one pump of his tight fist brought the appendage hard and throbbing. He pumped his rod and what normally would have taken some time to bring release to his body now took less than thirty seconds before he shot his wad like a fire hose. Cleaning up, he was disappointed that he didn’t feel the usual gratification. Instead, the release only seemed to have stoked the fire a bit more.

  Shutting off the water, he stepped out but didn’t bother drying off. He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped into the dark outer room. He breathed in the familiar scent then saw the silhouette sitting in the chair. In anticipation, he switched on the bedside lamp.

  Novah looked tiny, almost vulnerable, and it broke the chains inside him. She’d never known how much he’d loved her because he’d been piss-poor about telling her—and showing her. He realized that now and wished he could take a time machine back.

  She looked worried. Her lips were thin. Had she been crying?

  Damn Langley.

  “Tell me.” he growled.

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “Everything.” He took the three steps to his open suitcase, rummaged through the few packed items until he found what he was looking for. He dragged the towel off his body, uncaring that she was watching and stuck his feet into the boxers, pulling them up onto his hips.

  Just breathe. Just remember that you have VK to worry about too.

  “He was drunk,” came her quiet words.

  Forcing a blank expression on his face, he turned and tossed the damp towel over the end of the bed. “I don’t care if he was ten sheets to the wind, did he touch you?”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “You let him touch you?” he growled.

  Something dark flashed over her features. “I was wrong for coming here.” She pushed up from the chair and made her way toward the door.

  Let her go. Let her go.

  “Fine. I don’t care anyway.”

  She stopped at the door, hand firm on the knob, then turned back to him with blazing eyes. “Problem is, I think you do care.”

  “Do you understand how much control it’s taking not to wring that bastard’s neck?” He gave a shrug. “Tell me, Novah. But don’t defend him.”

  Dropping her hold on the knob, she stepped toward him, wrapped her arms around her chest, and he saw how tired she looked. He wanted to hold her, but he couldn’t walk that tightrope again. Couldn’t give himself over only to have her reject him hours later. If only he could submerge those protective feelings deep inside of him and move on. He’d built some impenetrable walls to keep his heart safe, but she’d been the only one that he couldn’t keep out.

  That made him vulnerable.

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” Her eyes bore into him.

  He blew out a long breath and ate up the space between them. He reached for her hand, covering her fingers with his. “I became the protector of you the minute you stole my heart.”

  Her eyes filled with unshed tears and her bottom lip quivered. “Langley didn’t hurt me. He was feeling sorry for himself.” She touched Egan’s bare chest and he felt a raw sensation fill his body. His dick hardened, betraying the logic in his head.

  “I’m like a rubber band. I don’t know how much more I can stretch. Can you see what you do to me? How I still want you, need you, after so long?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOVAH HAD KNOWN coming to his room would be like walking into a war zone, but there came a point when a woman had to make a hard decision and she had come to terms with what she needed to do. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here, with him, even if she could end up spiraling out of control again.

  Here she was and all she could think was how good he smelled and how sexy he looked.

  She could have easily told him what happened between her and Langley, a part of her wanted to tell him, but she knew that would be unfair. Egan would rip Langley’s head off his shoulders and then what would happen? Egan would suffer because Langley would make sure that it happened.

  “You turn me inside out.” A vein popped out on the side of his neck as a primal sound escaped his throat.

  “Sorry,” she whispered in a shaky breath. Could he see what he did to her too? She could melt right there into the wood floor.

  “I don’t want your apologies.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, her eyelids, one ear. He still held her hand in his and he carried it to his crotch. “See what you do to me?” He gently pushed her back against the door, sandwiching her between the solid wood and the iron wall of his body. “It’s too late for sorry. You know very well what you do to me. You’ve sunk those claws into me, and I still haven’t found a way to rid myself of your hold.”

  “I’ll go. I should…go.”

  His chuckle reminded her of fingernails down a chalkboard. “You think that’ll work?” He shook his head. He seemed to sway as he still held her, his thumbs were under her jawline, drawing a figure eight on her skin with the tip of one finger. She inhaled his fresh soap scent and it intoxicated her. His eyes closed and his chest heaved up and down as he sucked in ragged breaths.

  Her stomach warmed, spreading into her inner thighs.

  “I no longer know what to do,” she pushed through quivering lips.

  “Trust me,” he commanded. “Just trust.”

  Trust wasn’t easy for a woman who’d been hurt. He’d never intentionally hurt her, never, but he’d never fought for their relationship. He’d seen the train wreck coming, just as she had, and he’d chosen to ignore the coming issues. At some point, he’d put everything before her, before their daughter. Yet, even now, she cared for him. Loved him. Egan had been the only man who’d ever stolen her heart.

  Wanting to erase Langley’s touch from her, she went into a primal need, pushing up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to Egan’s. That was what a kiss should feel like. Explosions detonated inside her, blowing away doubt.

  There wasn’t an easy fix for them.

  Hell, there wasn’t even a happily ever after…but a happily for now possibly.

  Nothing felt right but to allow human nature to run its course—seduction to enfold them in its hypnotic clutch. This man—this sexy, wonderful man—filled her every void with a dose of liquid heaven. Till now she’d been starving for something she once had. She’d mired herself in work and parental responsibility, believing she could forget, and she had temporarily, but now reality was a force to be reckoned with. Her core craved Egan and she could no longer hide those feelings. She’d been walking around missing a big part of herself, an important piece to her life puzzle. Being near him she could breathe fully again.

  With a low, husky growl, he angled his head and plunged his tongue deeper, easily and with so much care. He set a slow pace, no hurry or rush, although she could physically feel the restraint in his muscles. When they were married, they’d fought, sometimes too harshly, but then they’d make up by having fast and heated sex that erased the damage. There was a strong, undeniable emotion between th
em, an exchange of unspoken words. Two people who never stopped loving one another were united.

  Novah liked that he was familiar to her, and although they were different, always had been, he didn’t need to learn her because he already knew what made her tick. He knew her, all of her, better than anyone. The feeling was like walking into a place you knew was home and feeling that feeling of peace and tranquility. While some of the décor had changed, the bones of the place remained the same. His taste was the same. His touch was the same, and she wasn’t immune.

  Smoothing her hands down the hard lines of his shoulders, his pecs, she followed the natural line to his washboard stomach. She could feel the old wounds and scars of his time in the military. She wished she could erase those memories from him, help him sleep better and forget. Hold him tight. This scratched off the scab of her own wounds, all the times she’d worried that she’d never see him again—never feel him again. In all the doubt and insecurity, she’d been weak so she had let him go. The fear had been too much and she’d thought it would go away when she walked away, but it had become a constant siren blaring in her head. How could she have been so weak when he was the strongest man she knew. Shame filled her. She should have been stronger.

  He withdrew from her slightly, staring down at her with a frenzied gaze. “I have a few new scars.”

  She paused her fingers over one of those, a three-inch white scar along the chiseled plane of his side. “You’ve survived so much.”

  “I’m a survivor,” he whispered next to her ear. He kissed her jaw, her neck, and along the curve between her neck and shoulder. He led her to the bed, not much bigger than a twin but it looked cozy, and he sat down, then pulled her onto his lap so that her thighs were spread over his hips. The separation of clothes didn’t hide the fact that he was excited. “And so are you, sweetheart.”

  “You were right about Peter.” She lowered her eyes for a second and he touched his finger to her chin. “I feel like such a fool.”

  “Why should you feel like the fool? He’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions.” His eyes softened and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Would you like for me to punch him in the throat?”