by Em Petrova
“For what?”
“Tailing that woman. Gawd.” He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Man, I had to follow her to the nail place and watch her get her feet done. You can’t imagine the fucking horrors that are her bunions. Woman needs plastic surgery or some shit.”
Dylan had been so strained for so many hours that his brother’s words had him outright laughing.
“You think this is funny? I’m not kidding about you owing me one.”
“Anything—I’ll do anything.”
“Then you can hook me up with the sister of that friend of yours.”
“Margot’s sister?”
“Uh-huh. I want the full date—dinner, show, and you’re buying the tickets, too—and dessert.”
“I don’t know if I can get her to agree to the dessert you’re referring to.”
“No, I’ll take care of that with my own charm and wit. Just get me in the door.”
“Fine. I’ll even buy you a six-pack to erase the memory of those bunions.”
“Dear God.”
Dylan laughed again. “Okay, I’ve got another person for you to tail so get your ass back here. I’ll have Athena hold him until you arrive.”
Chapter Five
“I’ve got to get Athena back to the safe house. She’s dead on her feet.”
Athena paused outside the office door at the sound of Dylan’s words as he spoke on the phone. He gave an answering grunt to the person on the other end of the line.
She held her breath, listening. Her parents had taught her not to eavesdrop, but she was pretty sure if they were alive, they’d make a contingency clause that said if she was being held against her will, she was allowed to listen in about what would happen to her next.
Her body felt weighted and her eyes grainy. She couldn’t argue part of what Dylan had said—she felt about to hit the floor and pass out from exhaustion. At her busiest time of year, she’d served all those clients on no sleep.
But she would fight about going to the safe house. If he didn’t realize she wasn’t a threat by now, then his skull was thicker than she’d guessed.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Dylan said as he wrapped up.
Taking a deep breath, Athena popped around the doorframe and her hand fluttered to her chest.
Her office was no longer hers but a high-tech military surveillance station.
All words died on her lips as she gazed around her. “What have you done to my office?” She scrubbed a hand over her face, feeling the skin stretch in unflattering ways.
Dylan stood and rounded the desk, dismissing her question. “Are you ready to go? All finished here for the day?”
She shook her head. “Can’t I just go home? Surely you saw what you came here to see.” Standing amidst the monitors and listening devices and God knew what else Dylan was using, she felt like she’d been dropped into a TV spy show. That left her feeling more unreal.
He rested a warm hand on her shoulder, and she twitched under his touch. The contact was doing unspeakable things to her insides.
“Athena, do you have anybody close to you that would be placed in danger if the suspects found out about them?”
Her jaw fell open. “You mean you don’t already know the name of the clerk at the convenience store that rang out my order? And that I bought a sweet tea and some potato chips to satisfy a salt craving?”
He let go of her shoulder as if singed by her words. Good, let him know the worst side of her, this sleep-deprived, frightened part of her that was furious at feeling she had absolutely no control or say in her life anymore.
“Athena, we can’t know everything. Besides, I figured you for a sweet cravings girl.”
“I’m having a nightmare and can’t wake up.” She scrubbed at her face again, about to topple forward and sleep face-down on the carpet under her desk.
“Please answer me.” Why were his eyes so warm? Better yet, why did she even notice?
“No, I don’t have anyone special. Now that you know I’m a sad thirty-something who’s all alone in the world and lives to create and sell clothes to people with too much money, are you happy with yourself?”
“No.” He pitched his voice low, and her insides, already mush, flowed with honey.
“Well, I’m going home now. Same time tomorrow?” She started past him.
He caught her elbow, swinging her back. So close. Why was he looming over her this way, like he was going to kiss her again?
“I can’t let you leave alone. You know you have to come with me to the safe house for another night.”
Another hot, sticky night filled with storms and him sitting outside her door, waiting to catch her in his solid arms when she tripped over him? Or to make her a snack to take her mind off the situation?
Or to pin her to the wall and capture her lips with such dark passion that she still hadn’t fully recovered?
She felt her jaw lift a notch as she looked at him. He stared back, some of the concern etched around his eyes replaced by amusement.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Not at all, Athena. You’re a very strong woman, and that pleases me.”
“I—” She snapped her mouth shut. What did she say to that?
A shivery sigh left her, and a warmth she didn’t want to acknowledge lodged low in her belly.
He kneaded her shoulder, sending sparks down through her torso that somehow tugged hard on her nipples.
She should step back.
She couldn’t step back—she was pinned in his intense stare, the same stare that held her in place right before he’d kissed her.
His chest heaved and she felt a shudder move through him.
Suddenly, he let her go, and she rocked on her heels. “I need to take you to the safe house,” he said gruffly.
She wanted to argue, but was there any point? She hadn’t gotten her way at any time with this hardened special ops man and likely never would.
She sighed. “Fine.” At least there was a bed.
He studied her closer as if her agreement stunned him. But he nodded and waved a hand for her to exit the office first. She set about the motions to close her boutique, shutting off lights, locking the register and stuffing all the cash into an envelope she slipped into her purse.
“Stuffing them in your pantyhose would be safer. That’s how you transport your cash?” He looked about to have a stroke.
“Yes, why?”
“In this city? Hell, in any city?”
“I’ve never had a problem, Dylan.”
“Until you’re mugged or worse for a few thousand in cash.”
Ignoring his dark warnings, she tightened her hold on her purse and walked to the back door. When she opened it, a scream bubbled in her throat at the sight of a huge man dressed in all black.
“Sorry, Miss Athena. It’s just me.” Roades gave her what seemed to be a nod trademarked among all the Knight Ops men. They must practice it in front of a mirror to perfect the move.
“Any updates?” Dylan asked his brother.
“Nada. We good here?”
It was Dylan’s turn to give that nod. Only on him, it was sooo much sexier. She twisted her gaze away.
“See ya at O-500 then,” Roades said.
Five? Who was getting up at five and whatever for? She had no intention of peeling her eyes open before seven and still having plenty of time to open her boutique at eight-thirty.
She started to step out the door, but Dylan grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her behind him. She glared at his muscled back while he scouted the alley as if ISIS was lying in wait for them.
She followed the line of his arm down to his hand which rested at the waistband at his back. With the thick muscles on either side of his spine, she couldn’t detect the bulge of a weapon but knew he had his hand on it.
“Is this really necessary? Isn’t Roades out here to keep anybody from being in the alley waiting to attack us?” She went on tiptoe to see over his shoulder, but
all she did was bring her nose closer to the cotton of his shirt. The pine-and-musk-scented cotton.
He relaxed. “Sorry, it’s habit.”
Finding no Kung Fu fighters, men with chains or snipers in the alley behind her boutique, he stepped outside. He reached back and clasped his fingers over her forearm, and she gulped at the heat penetrating her flesh. Too well she recalled the feel of him pinned to her as they kissed.
This was insanity. She had to find a way to disentangle her confused emotions from this man who was nothing more than a glorified bodyguard trained by the US military.
When he drew her outside, he positioned his body in a way that spoke of taking bullets for her. And damn if that wasn’t sexy as hell too.
No, no, no. She had to shut down these thoughts. Her mind was too hazy, not working right without a solid eight hours of rest.
Taking her to the vehicle parked at the end of the alley, his head swiveled right and left as he put her inside.
“With all these security measures, I might as well be the First Lady.”
He didn’t even crack a smile, his expression as stern as ever. The man really had no sense of humor. He got behind the wheel and started the car. They rolled out of the alley and into the street.
They didn’t go two blocks before they hit the heart of the Mardi Gras celebrations. She blinked at the bright lights and fireworks being set off. People swarmed the sidewalk and streets, and heavy security barely held them in check.
She gave a sigh.
“What is it?” he asked, eyes darker in the dimness of the car.
“I love this time of year. From my apartment, I have access to so many festivities.” A deep longing for her own sacred space rose up in her.
“I can’t take you there, Athena.”
She turned her head to look at him, a challenge in her voice. “Why? If you’re so great at your job, shouldn’t you have realized by now that I’m not the person you’re looking for and have no connection to terrorism?”
He had to draw to a stop to allow a throng of people to cross the street, each dressed in feathers, hats or wearing glow in the dark necklaces.
“My only job right now is to watch over you.”
“You mean watch me.”
“Watch over,” he repeated, lips hardened.
“I don’t understand why you’d believe I’m in danger if that’s the story you’re sticking with.” She folded her arms across her chest, suddenly chilled.
“Have you considered that anybody can find out your apartment address just by doing a little digging, Athena? Or follow you on the bus or in a cab? It isn’t safe, and I won’t risk you.”
His deep voice threaded through her body, leaving her coated in a dew of perspiration. Great, now her body was premenopausal, cold one minute and hot the next. It had nothing to do with the hunk of a man beside her, steering them expertly through the crowded streets and willing to whip out his gun and have a shootout to protect her.
She crossed her legs, and he glanced over, tracking the movement. She squeezed her thighs together harder and tried not to think of that kiss.
Soon, though, exhaustion crept over her, and lulled by the movement of the car, she drifted off. When a touch on her shoulder startled her awake, she looked up into Dylan’s face.
Something moved behind his eyes. “We’re here. Come on.”
She climbed out, foggy-brained and wanting nothing but a bed. Hell, at this point, she’d take a blanket on the floor. She just needed sleep.
He opened the front door using a passcode and a key card. Then he switched on a light and paced through the house, probably checking it for intruders.
When he returned, she took one look at his serious expression and let out a giggle.
He cocked his head, his own smile playing around the corners of his hard lips. “What’s funny?”
“We’re in a safe house yet you’re checking for dangers.”
He grunted his amusement. “Can’t be too safe. Can I fix you some dinner or—?
She waved him away. “Bed. That’s all I want.”
The thunder was already rolling in, the humidity bringing the storms all week. It made for unhappy Mardi Gras revelers and street vendors who made most of their year’s income off this one celebration.
She hardly registered her own footsteps as she headed to the bedroom. She pushed open the door, walked straight to the bed and collapsed face down. Her eyes slammed shut, and she was already breathing the deep inhalations of sleep.
Seconds later, she felt Dylan removing her shoes and then a light blanket covering her. She snuggled down and everything vanished except the knowledge of his presence.
* * * * *
He woke immediately, heart jerking against his ribs as the click of a door opening hit his senses. He was on his feet, hand on his weapon, when he realized Athena stood over him, eyes wide and blurred from sleep.
He rubbed his hand over his face. “You all right?”
“The storm woke me.”
“How about that hot chocolate again?”
She nodded, and his heart gave a new kind of lurch. One that told him he was getting in over his head with this woman.
Feeling rumpled from sleeping in front of her door, he made his way to the kitchen. When he reached into the fridge for milk, he saw it was restocked after Knight Ops had looted it earlier. As he retrieved a small cooking pot and the ingredients he needed, Athena took a seat on the stool again.
Lightning streaked outside, brightening the room enough that he could see her watching him.
“The storm will have driven all the festivities indoors,” she said softly.
“Lots to do indoors to celebrate.” He poured milk into the pot and added sugar, cocoa powder and a dash of vanilla and then set the pot on the gas burner.
“That’s my mother’s recipe too.”
He smiled. “Probably the recipe of mothers everywhere, considering it’s written on the back of the cocoa can.” He held it up and she gave a soft laugh. Everything about her was soft and feminine to the extreme. She still wore the red dress, and he wished to hell he’d thought to have clothes brought for her.
He’d have to figure something out because they were in it for the long haul. Knight Ops was staked out on the boutique until they pinpointed the suspect. They had the contacts of Athena’s regular clients and were digging into their backgrounds. But Dylan secretly hoped nothing was unearthed right away—he was enjoying being close to this woman far too much.
He set a mug of cocoa in front of her, and she wrapped her fingers around it. “I have a request, Dylan.”
His heart picked up at her use of his name.
She went on, “I’d like a shower—in my own shower with my own things. And I want to wear my own clothes, not inventory from my store.”
Lightning streaked down again, bringing her into sharper focus. Her face was calm, but he saw how tightly she held her mug, as if anticipating his refusal.
He stared at her for a long moment. “We’ll go after we finish this.” He lifted his own mug and sipped. The chocolate hit his tongue, but his mind was so fixated on Athena that he could only taste her.
She took three sips and then hopped off the stool. “I’ll get my shoes.”
He watched her hips twitch out of the kitchen and set the mug down a bit too hard. Dammit, he needed to get his mind off having her and stick to the mission.
But his body was telling him that his full-time job should be running his hands up and down her body, slanting his mouth across hers and then sliding his cock deep inside her just to hear her soft sighs of pleasure.
After only a minute, she returned. “The rain’s slowed down. If we hurry, we can run through the raindrops.”
He smiled at her expression, something his maman used.
“I’m ready,” he said.
In the car, she started to give him directions to her place, but he knew where she lived—knew everything about her.
Everything excep
t how she liked to be made love to.
He bit off a groan as he drew up in front of her apartment building. The streets were empty of crowds, all driven inside by the storm, and the pavement was inky black with rain, reflecting streetlights. He looked to her. “Stay here while I check things out.”
He expected her argument, but she only nodded.
Thrown off balance by her lack of sass on the matter, he got out of the car and scanned the surroundings. He didn’t trust her not to leave the car while he went inside and looked around, so he opened her door.
She slipped out and followed him to the front door. He unlocked it, and she let out a soft gasp, a rasp that shot need through his groin.
“You took my key.”
“This is a universal key. Works on every lock I’ve ever encountered.”
“Well, that isn’t unnerving,” she muttered.
He smiled as he entered first, keeping a hand on her arm and blocking her with his body. “Stay here.” He went into stealth mode. In a minute flat, he’d searched every closet and corner of her apartment. He came back to stand before her. “All clear.”
She gave him an are-you-kidding-me stare.
“Why didn’t you just turn on the lights and look around instead of skulking through the dark? You’re your biggest fan, aren’t you?” She leaned over and switched on a lamp on a table next to the door.
In the ring of light, he studied her, taken aback once again by her beauty. That little mark above her lip made him burn to drag her close and kiss her until she melted under his touch.
She moved into the space, turning on another lamp, and he turned to watch her. Her place was filled with ethnic details—a South American hand-loomed rug, embroidered pillows from Istanbul, a piece of hand-thrown pottery from Morocco.
“You travel,” he said.
Her gaze flew to his. She nodded. “Once a year I travel to a new destination to find new and special fashions and textiles.”
He stepped up to the sofa and touched a pillow. “I was in Turkey and saw fabrics just like this in the marketplace.”
She moved to stand next to him. “You travel too then.”
His gaze landed on her, and damn if his heart didn’t kick into an erratic beat. His breath came faster too, but he was a sniper and knew how to control his responses.