Object of His Protection

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Object of His Protection Page 6

by Brenda Jackson


  Knowing he had a point, she quickly crossed the room and within minutes had done what he had suggested. When she returned to where he stood and glanced up at him, she noticed how his eyes had darkened and were filled with an intensity she had immediately associated with him. Desire. And she knew the cause of it. He had watched her walk across the room, checking out her rear end with every step she had taken.

  She frowned. “You have a problem,” she said, knowing he was aware of what she was talking about.

  A wry smile curved his lips. “Some men are leg men, others prefer breasts. Personally, I have a fetish for the hind part.” And without waiting for her to comment, he walked off.

  Charlene watched him go, thinking since fanny-watching seemed to be fair play, she might as well check out his. Umm, not bad. In fact she thought he had a real nice-looking tush.

  He stopped when he got to the door and looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a smile that only heightened his sexiness. “Like what you see?”

  She could lie and say no, she didn’t like it, but decided this was one time she would be honest with him…up to a point. “Possibly.”

  He chuckled. “Fair enough. And to answer your question from earlier, about what I see in your hands…. One thing I found interesting is the fact you are a very passionate woman.”

  A passionate woman? Who was he kidding? “If you say so.”

  “I do and one day I intend to prove it to you.”

  His ultimate goal, Drey thought, was to finish the investigation and make it possible for Charlene to return to her home—but not before he had taken her to bed. He glanced over at her, saw the way she avoided looking at him by keeping her eyes focused on the scenery outside the car window, and wondered what she would think of his plans if she knew them, especially the part about him sleeping with her.

  He didn’t mind letting her know that he wanted her. It would be hard keeping something like that a secret anyway while they lived under the same roof. But she didn’t have to know she was at the top of his to-do list. He had given her fair warning, but for some reason she didn’t believe him.

  He’d even left it up to her as to how she would handle him and the situation. However, for some reason she assumed she could keep sexual urges, tension and good old chemistry at bay by doing nothing and pretending they didn’t exist between them. What planet had she been living on most of her life?

  Any hot-blooded adult knew the best way to handle red-hot lust was to work the person out of your system and move on, which was something he intended to do. He could handle her bouts of anger just as he would be able to handle whatever degree of desire she had the ability to whip up within him. As he had told her earlier, she was a passionate woman. Not only could he feel it in her hands, but he had tasted it in her kiss and he could even pick it up in her scent. The way he was doing now.

  “Tell me about your family, Drey.”

  Her words cut into his thoughts and he glanced over at her. For reasons unbeknownst to her, his family was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He brought his car to a stop at a traffic light, inclined his head and said, “How about telling me about yours?”

  From her expression he could tell she hadn’t expected that. It was obvious she preferred not talking about her family, but since she had been the one to bring up the subject, he figured that eventually she would respond.

  It took her a while and then she said, “My parents divorced when I was ten. I took their divorce hard until I realized they were happier living apart. Neither of them liked the idea of being single so they remarried quickly, and before you ask, no, not to each other. My mother is into her fourth marriage and Dad is involved with wife number three. I’m the only child they had together, but I have a number of stepsisters and stepbrothers.”

  “And do you get along with them?”

  She shrugged. “Most of the time. But then there have been occasions when they avoid me like I avoid them.”

  She glanced over at him when he stopped the car to another traffic light. “What about you? Are you an only child?”

  He thought about her question and decided to answer it the way he felt best. “Yes. My father was a cop. He died when I was in my teens. My mom is still alive and in good health.”

  “How did your dad die?”

  “In the line of duty,” he said, remembering that day so clearly in his mind.

  “Sorry.”

  “So was I,” he said automatically, noticing how his voice had lowered, how he still felt pain after all these years. And then he added, “We were close.” After saying those words he wondered why he had told her that. His relationship with his father had never been up for discussion with anyone other than his mother.

  “Is that why you became a policeman?”

  “Pretty much,” he said evenly, knowing that had been the reason. “Dad was a good cop and I wanted to be like him. I was on the streets a few years before I decided I didn’t want to put up with all the beauracacy that went along with it.”

  “So you became a private investigator instead?”

  “Yes.” He remembered how much Harmon had played into that decision and the support he had given him. “And I’ve never regretted it, although the first few years were hard. Clients were scarce.” He chuckled. “And it took me forever to solve my first case.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Drey glanced over at her. She seemed truly interested and wasn’t just asking for conversation’s sake. He didn’t say anything for several long moments and then he began talking and was surprised how easy it was to open up to her. He remembered the case as if it were yesterday when Sharon Mosley had shown up at his office and hired him to get the goods on her cheating husband. It hadn’t been the type of case he’d wanted starting out, but it had eventually paid the bills. When it had come to adultery, Kent Mosley had covered his tracks well, refusing to let his wife of thirty-something years get anything on him that could entice her to take him to the cleaner’s. His luck finally ran out when Drey captured on film the man making out with the wife of one of his business associates.

  Over the next few minutes Drey talked and Charlene listened; she even asked him a few questions every now and then. He wasn’t surprised by her intelligence or how quick she was in figuring out things. Pretty soon they were pulling back into the parking lot of the café where they had left her car.

  “You can follow me back to my place. It’s not far from here,” he said, bringing his car to a stop next to hers.

  “Okay,” she said, unsnapping her seat belt and turning to open the door.

  Drey glanced in his rearview mirror, something he’d done several times to make sure they hadn’t been followed. He glanced back at her in time to see one smooth thigh when she descended from the vehicle. And again when she got into her car. His mouth hardened. That hadn’t been what his already horny body needed to see.

  He only began driving away when he was certain she was following him.

  It was then that he decided to try contacting his mother again. Pulling his cell from off his belt, he flipped it open to punch in his mother’s number only to be met with the answering machine again. This time he left a message.

  “Mom, this is Drey. We need to talk. I would appreciate if you’d call me later.”

  He hung up the line wondering how soon she would contact him and whether he was ready to hear what else she had to say.

  Charlene was quiet as she listened to the soft jazz sound on the radio while following behind Drey. She couldn’t help wondering what she had gotten herself into. She knew moving in with him on a temporary basis was the smart thing to do, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  He had surprised her when he had opened up and told her about the first case he had taken on as a private investigator. She had found it interesting, but more than anything she had admired his diligence in solving the case. She figured getting him to talk would ease some of the heated tension between them. It had for a while, but she
had felt his eyes watching her every movement when she had gotten out of his car. It was if he’d been undressing her with his gaze. How in the world would they manage to live under the same roof? She had never felt this desired by a man in her entire life.

  Of course she knew it was a passing fancy for Drey. She couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in what was probably one of his testosterone moments.

  She followed his car into a gated community and as she pulled in directly behind him, she glanced around at the large town houses that made her place look like a dollhouse.

  A smile touched her lips. Drey’s first case might have been the pits, but evidently he had recovered nicely. She nearly jumped when her cell phone went off in her purse and she eased it out and flipped it open after seeing the caller was her mother. “Yes, Mom?”

  “I called your house and there’s a message on your phone indicating you’re out of town. You didn’t mention coming to Florida, so does that mean you’re visiting your father?”

  Charlene rolled her eyes. Another issue she had with her parents was their constant competitive nature where she was concerned. Her mother did not like her father’s third wife and wanted to make sure Charlene didn’t like her either. “No, Mom, I’m not visiting Dad. I just need to get away for a while.”

  “Why?” her mother demanded, as if she had every right to know.

  “Things are crazy at work,” she said truthfully. “So I thought I’d take a few days off, go somewhere and enjoy myself.” Enjoy herself? She had to be kidding. She watched as Drey parked his car and got out, saw how nicely his jeans covered his tush and knew she was kidding. Inexplicably, a heated sensation flowed through her.

  “Better do it now before you stress yourself out,” her mother said. “Stress isn’t good. That’s why I stopped working.”

  Charlene frowned. She’d never known her mother to work outside the home. At fifty, Nina was still a beautiful woman and would be a trophy on any man’s arms. When Charlene saw that Drey had turned and was waiting for her to get out of the car, she quickly said, “Okay, Mom, I need to go. Someone is waiting for me.”

  “It’s a man, right? Tell me that you got away with a man.”

  Charlene’s mouth tightened. Why was her mother so obsessed with her finding a man? “Yes, Mom, I’m spending some time with a man,” she said, giving in to what she knew her mother wanted to hear. “I’ll touch base with you when I return.”

  “You haven’t said where you are.”

  No, intentionally, she hadn’t. Charlene glanced around and noticed the name of the community and saw the huge water fountain close by as well as the well-tended landscaped yard. “It’s called Kindle Wood Lakes and it’s near the water.” Okay, so she was stretching the truth a little bit.

  “Sounds like a real nice resort. Have fun and don’t make any babies until after the wedding.”

  “Mom!”

  “Don’t Mom me since I was young once. Besides, I’d like to have a son-in-law while I’m young enough to appreciate him.”

  Yes, Charlene thought, she knew that, had accepted it and most of the time just plain ignored it. “Goodbye, Mom.”

  “Goodbye, sweetheart.”

  Drey leaned back against his car and watched Charlene get out of hers with a frown on her face. He had seen her cell phone plastered to her ear and had wondered who she was talking to. Whomever it was evidently had gotten her a little annoyed. Had her boss tried contacting her? His protective instinct automatically kicked in, and when she reached his side he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She glanced around, looking everywhere else but at him when she said, “Yes, I’m fine. I just finished talking to my mother.”

  He knew damned good and well he shouldn’t care one iota about her relationship with her mother but heard himself remarking anyway, “You were frowning.”

  She looked at him. “I usually do whenever I talk to either of my parents. Sometimes they forget our agreement.”

  “Which is?”

  He would not have been surprised if she had told him it was none of his business, because truly it wasn’t. So she sort of stunned him when she answered, “Considering their numerous marriages, they promised me on my twenty-first birthday that they would stay out of my business if I stayed out of theirs. Staying out of theirs is a piece of cake, but they still find it a challenge to stay out of mine. Especially Mom. She’s constantly reminding me that my biological clock is ticking and wants me to do something about it.”

  Drey laughed. “So in other words, she wants grandchildren.” He’d heard the same request a number of times from his own mother.

  “She wants me to find a husband before I start populating the earth and gets quite annoyed with me by my lack of interest.”

  Lack of interest? He couldn’t help but remember she had gotten quite annoyed with him last night when he’d asked why she didn’t have a date.

  “My mother thinks we’re having an affair.”

  “Excuse me?” Staring down at her, he could clearly see the red highlights in her hair, although she was wearing her hair pinned up in a knot on her head. He preferred seeing it down the way she’d worn it last night.

  “She called my apartment and got my message about me going out of town. I couldn’t tell her the truth, so I fabricated a story for her that included a trip away for a few days, and of course she assumed it was with a man.”

  “And she’s okay with that?”

  “Overjoyed, actually. Like I said earlier, she thinks my biological clock is ticking.”

  He watched as she glanced around again. “Nice community. Have you lived here long?” she asked.

  “A couple of years.” He pushed away from his car. “Are you ready to go in? I can come back for your stuff later.”

  He then smiled when he saw the look of apprehension on her face. “Will it make you feel better if I promise not to jump your bones as soon as I get you over the threshold?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I’m glad one of us finds all of this amusing.”

  Drey held up both hands in a defensive pose. “Hey, don’t get uptight on me. I don’t find the thought of your life being in danger amusing. What I do find amusing is your reaction to the idea of living with me for a while. I take it you’ve never shared quarters with a man.”

  “Of course not!”

  “Any reason why?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, so he figured she was thinking about his question. “I’m nitpicky.”

  “So am I, but I have a feeling we’ll get along just nicely.”

  She opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly closed it, leaving him wondering just what was on her mind. “Get it out, Charlie. Say whatever you want.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him and then she asked, “Just in case one of your lady friends shows up and wonders who I am, what should I tell them?”

  “I doubt that will happen, but if it does the simple thing is to tell them you’re my girl.”

  She shook her head. “No way would I lie like that.”

  “Then if it will make you feel better, tell them you’re my long lost sister, although I doubt they’ll believe you.”

  Determined to end this topic of conversation before he would be forced to tell her that she would be wearing the title of “Drey’s lover” before long, he began moving toward his front door. She walked at a leisurely pace next to him and for the first time in a long while he liked the thought of a woman by his side.

  Another thought that flashed through his mind was that Charlene was used to handling dead bodies. There was nothing dead about him and soon enough she would discover how it was to handle a living, breathing, hot-blooded man.

  Chapter 7

  Charlene froze the moment she stepped over the threshold in Drey’s home, finding his taste in furniture and decorating utterly exquisite. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the numerous selections of Asian artwork he had on his walls. Even from a distance she found them intriguingly unusual and definite
ly exotic.

  She crossed the room, immediately smitten with one painting in particular. She couldn’t help but study the richness of the colors the artist had used as well as the selection of a mahogany-trimmed leather frame. It was a painting of a beautiful Asian woman, drenched in a multicolored robe as she walked through a flower garden with a shimmering pond in the background. The expression on the woman’s face was both exotic and erotic.

  “I see you like this one,” she heard Drey say, coming up behind her. She tensed, immediately feeling his heat, which made her totally aware of his masculinity. Those thoughts made her even more determined to keep a tight rein on her control as well as her common senses while around him.

  “Yes, it’s different, although I’m surprised to find such a painting in your living room. It seems more fitted for the bedroom.”

  Drey chuckled. “Yeah, probably, but I prefer to have it out here.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. When I see her I’ll tell her you said that.”

  Charlene spun around, her eyebrows arched. “You know her?”

  “Yes. I know her. That’s my mother.”

  Charlene blinked before turning back at the picture, amazed. “Your mother?”

  Drey smiled. “Yes. She was only twenty-three when it was painted and she gave it to my father as a wedding gift.” He didn’t say anything for a while, then added, “I recall it was one of Dad’s most prized possessions.”

  Charlene could clearly see why. As she’d said earlier, the woman was beautiful. Although he had told her about his parents, he hadn’t said a lot about his mother, other than the state of her health. He’d mostly spoken of his father. She wondered if his relationship with his mother was strained for some reason.

  “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place and then I’ll show you to the room that you’ll be using while you’re here.”

  The tour made her realize even more just what a beautiful home Drey had. His kitchen, with stainless steel appliances, was to die for, large and spacious. He told her he enjoyed cooking and spent a lot of time in the kitchen. She could tell just from looking around that like her, he was neat and tidy and liked nice things. She could also tell that his tastes included the exotic and she figured they were mainly because of his background.

 

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