by Lora Leigh
"Stop!" She meant the word to be forceful. God, she meant to sound as outraged and furious as she knew she should be. "I haven't seen you enough in the past five years to recognize you when you walk into a bar and you think I'm going to just jump into bed with you?"
Her body was more than ready to do just that.
"Stop?" His head lowered, his lips touching her brow.
She was going to choke on her own breath. Pleasure swamped her just that quickly, a weakness that had her knees giving out and tremors suddenly shaking her body.
"Please stop." She closed her eyes as she pressed her hands tight against the wall, using the last amount of strength to keep from touching him. If she touched him, she was going to humiliate herself further. She would moan and arch against him. She would beg him for things that she knew would ultimately destroy her independence.
"Sure, sugar?" His hands whispered down her bare arms. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could make you come again. Instead of a little ripple, I'll make you explode with pleasure. Wouldn't you like that?"
She would love it. She ached for it. She was dying for it.
"No!" In a move she couldn't believe she had made, her hands slammed into his chest, pushing him back as she threw herself from the wall, staring back at him in fury.
He was laughing at her. It was there in his eyes, in the smile on his face. Laughing at her and daring her. Trying to control her.
"You bastard," she choked. "You have no right to molest me in my own home like this."
"Molest you?" He was clearly laughing now. The amusement on his face slid into her gut like a knife, and burned through her mind with the shameful realization that he might be aroused, but nothing like she was. He was playing. Nothing more.
"Stay the hell away from me," she ordered harshly, blinking back her tears. "I don't like your games and I don't appreciate your damned lies. I can do without both."
She turned, intent on racing away from him, on locking herself in her bathroom and trying to wash the shameful embarrassment from her mind.
"Hold up there, sugar?" His hand wrapped around her arm, turning her to him firmly as he frowned back at her. "This is no game. And this sure as hell isn't."
Before she could stop him, he forced her palm to the bulge beneath his jeans, pressed it close, and his gaze flared with brilliance again. "I might enjoy playing with you a little bit, but trust me, I know how damned serious I am about touching you. I will be in that bed with you, the only question is when."
"When hell freezes over."
"Really?" His smile was gentler now, but still filled with humor. "I hear global warming is coming fast, cupcake. You sure it ain't already froze over?"
"I'm quite sure," she snarled back. "Because if it were we sure as hell wouldn't be standing here and your master would have called you back to chip ice. Now let me go!"
He released her, but his amusement had her pushing a strangled scream from between her teeth. She whirled away from him, stalked to her bedroom, and slammed the door with enough force to rattle the frame.
Shaking with rage she stomped to the side of the bed. jerked the phone off its cradle, and dialed her father's cell phone number with jabbing stabs of her finger.
"Emily?" His voice came over the line, concerned, questioning.
"He's fired!" Her voice was shaking. Her heart was racing hard enough to choke her. "Do you understand me? Right now. Get back here and get him, he's gone."
Silence filled the line for long moments.
"Did he hurt you, Emily?" he asked quietly.
She wanted to lie. For the first time in longer than she remembered she wanted to lie to her father.
"He's crazy," she bit out instead. "Certifiable. I will not stay here with him."
"Has he hurt you, Emily?" The demand in her father's voice became stronger, firmer.
"No, he hasn't damned well hurt me," she cried out. "But if you don't come collect your bulldog I swear I'm going to hurt him."
Silence again. She hated the silences.
"Daddy, I've never asked you to do this," she suddenly whispered. "I've always let your boys stay. I've always let them follow me around like the guard dogs they were. I'm asking you this one time, please, get someone else."
She hadn't begged her father for anything in years. She had tried to be independent, tried to be self-sufficient and reasonably responsible.
She heard him sigh wearily. "I can't do that, Em. Your life s more important to me than your wants right now. He stays."
Shock raced through her, increasing the shaking in her body, the fear that began to cloud her mind.
"You can't mean that," she whispered.
"If he hasn't hurt you, if you're not scared of him personally, then yes, I do mean it. Now, I'll ask you one more time, has he hurt you? Are you afraid he's going to hurt you?"
He was going to break her heart. He was going to rip her soul from her body.
"I'm sorry I bothered you." How she managed to control fee shaking in her voice, she didn't know. But she did. Pride firmed it, chilled it, and drew her upright as she stared at the wall across from her.
"Emily—"
"Goodbye, Daddy." She hung the phone up softly as she blinked back her tears and realized that she never should have called him to begin with.
"Scared, Emily?"
She swung around and there he was. He had opened the door soundlessly and now leaned lazily against the frame, one ankle crossed over the other, one broad forearm leaning against the doorframe.
"Of you?" she asked with a sneer. "Not hardly, Kell. Not ever. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a shower." She began to move around the bed when she saw the panties, crumpled at the end of the bed rather than lying in the middle where she had tossed them.
She picked them up gingerly, stared at them then turned and tossed them to him coldly. And of course, he caught them, with one hand, with no effort.
"You can have them," she stated harshly. "And enjoy them, because it's the closest you'll ever come to that particular part of my body again."
Turning on her heel, she forced herself to move slowly to the bathroom, to enter it and close the door softly before locking it behind her and swallowing her scream of fury.
Kell Kreiger wasn't a man that a woman played with. A little light teasing, harmless kisses, or whispers in the dark. He was a male animal in the truest sense of the word and she suddenly felt helpless, like a prey.
What was it she had wished for earlier? A man she couldn't control? A man who didn't whine but took the reins?
She had to have been insane.
Kell stared at the closed bathroom door and let a frown work across his brow. She was scared. He had seen it in her eyes when she ran from him, had heard it in her voice. But it wasn't the fear of a woman who sensed physical danger, it was the fear of a woman facing something unknown, something uncertain.
He shook his head, his lips tightening at the memory of her voice when she had begged the senator to take him off the assignment. The cry of a child to its father, a plea for understanding, and evidently the senator hadn't bothered to heed that cry.
The senator had never heeded her cries though. He had :old her to "buck up," he had encouraged her to dry the tears and work harder. He was proud of her. Confused by her. But in the end, he did as he wanted, not as Emily needed.
Shaking his head, he stepped back from her doorway, closing the door gently behind him as his hands clenched around the silk and lace panties. He had to fight to keep from bringing the soft material to his face, to restrain himself from drawing the scent of peaches and cream into his head. If she thought she was getting them back, she was wrong. But he would see her in them again. And he promised himself he would pull them off with nothing but his teeth and devour the silky sweet flesh they covered.
As he moved through the living room the cell phone at his belt rang demandingly to the tune of AC/DC's "Hells Bells." Grinning, he pulled it from the holder, checked the number coming throug
h then flipped it open. "Good evening, Senator," he answered. "What the hell is going on?" the other man snarled into the phone. "You haven't been alone with her an hour and she called me nearly in tears begging for a replacement. What the hell did you do to her?"
"We're just getting our ground rules established, Richard," he assured the senator calmly. "She's a little upset over it."
"Don't try to pull shit over my eyes, son, I'm not a fool."
"No, you're not," Kell answered firmly. "You're a father answering to your daughter's anger. If you want me off this assignment I understand that." Like hell. "But as long as I'm on it, then I'll protect her as I see fit."
"Did you hurt her?"
"Do you really need to ask me that question?"
He could hear the silence in the background, he could practically hear the senator's mind churning.
"Emily is an intelligent, cunning woman. We both know that," Kell said then. "She twists her bodyguards around her little finger as easily as she would a ribbon. She's frighteningly brave, as she proved today at the strip club and in the excursions she's dragged her bodyguards into. I won't be conned, twisted, or convinced to let her endanger herself needlessly. It will take us a few days to establish the ground rules, but once we do, she'll settle in fine."
That was his story and he was sticking to it.
The senator remained silent. Kell followed suit. He checked the patio door locks, then the windows, working his way through the house and into the room he had been assigned.
"She's a good girl," the senator finally said softly. "Her feelings are easily hurt. Don't run roughshod over her, Kell. You could hurt her more than any of the others. She's always been infatuated with you."
And strangely enough, the senator had never pushed that infatuation and he had never pushed Kell toward her.
"I don't run over anyone, Richard. I simply convince them of my way."
Senator Stanton grunted at the comment. "If she calls me again, I'll consider her request. Whatever you're doing, fix it."
"You promised no interference," Kell reminded him.
"That was before the woman who's already halfway in love with you called, nearly in tears, begging for something she's never begged for before. Fix it, Kreiger, and do it gently. Or we'll have words. And you don't want that."
He would prefer to avoid them, but he could handle it.
"That's your choice, Richard," he finally answered as politely as he could. "Just let me know when I need to pack and I can be ready to roll. Until then, please refrain from calling to take me to task over your daughter's anger. It's detrimental to the assignment and creates a tension neither of us needs."
"Lieutenant Kreiger, you are testing my patience."
"And you should remember how well I excel at testing everyone's patience," he pointed out. "I guess you'll just have to forgive me for it again."
"You better hope I do," he snapped. "Now fix this. And that's a damned order."
The call disconnected as Kell shook his head on a wry smile. Dealing with the father might turn out to be more trouble than dealing with the daughter.
He laid the lacy panties on the dresser by the door, turned to the duffel bags, and began to unpack. The weapons went close to the bed, with the holstered back-up weapon strapped to the top of his lace-up work boots and the legs of his jeans covering it.
The Glock he normally carried on his belt was tucked into the bedside table, the automatic rifle and extra ammo pushed beneath the bed.
Clothes were hung in the closet and pushed into the dresser. Within minutes he was unpacked and staring around the room with a vague sense of discontent.
What was it about Emily Stanton that had always called to him? From the day he'd realized what a beauty she was growing into and how the fire was barely banked within her, she had made him hard. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to scare the hell out of him and keep him running in the opposite direction for the past five years. There was something fresh about her, something wild and untamed. But it was restrained. Driven down and simmering beneath the surface as it fought to survive amid the life her father, loving though he was, was trying to force her into. Emily was never going to give her father what he needed from her. Senator Stanton wanted a pretty little dress-up doll
who followed his commands and never thought to question them or her own happiness.
The problem as Kell saw it was that the two of them were too much alike. If Emily had been born a man, she would have made a hell of a Navy SEAL. But she hadn't been born a man. She had been born soft and gentle, easy to break and easy to scar.
He knew exactly how easy it was to break something that soft and delicate. Fuentes had already destroyed one woman in Kell's care. He wasn't going to let the drug lord destroy another.
He felt something twist inside him at the thought of his wife, Tansy, and the son he had never known. Tansy hadn't been wild. She had been gentle, ethereal, as though her body knew she would be on this earth for only a short time.
She had made him laugh. She had made him see himself as something other than the heir to the combined Kreiger and Beaulaine fortunes though. She had opened his eyes and taught him how to begin maturing when his family would have continued to convince him he was perfection and that everything in his life had to be the same.
He could barely remember her face now. He hadn't dreamed of her in years, and the burning lance of pain had dimmed over the years. He felt regret. Fury at the evil that had taken her away from him and the knowledge that Emily had the power to hold him with a strength that he now knew Tansy never would have.
He had loved Tansy as a boy. If Emily stole the man's heart, then the risk to his soul could be that much greater.
He would never survive losing her.
She was like the little fox he always compared her to. Inquisitive. Stubborn. Sensual.
She was determined. She might not always know what she wanted, but she was working her way there, and Kell intended to become what she wanted. All those wild impulses. all that heated hunger was going to be his.
A man learned young that he couldn't tame the wind, so instead, he learned to become part of it, to channel it. That was the key to Emily. Channeling all that frustration and pent-up need for adventure. Like a vixen, like the wind, there was no taming her. But he could enjoy her. And that he definitely intended to do.
Chapter Six
You didn't tell me that the elusive Kell Kreiger was now your lover, why?"
Emily restrained a sigh as she stared across the small patio table at her best friend, Kira Porter, the next day and gauged the suspicion in her eyes.
Heavy suspicion. She wasn't fooling Kira in the least, and she damned sure couldn't tell her the truth.
She had tiptoed around Kell the night before, watching him warily, trying to get an idea of the best way to handle him. She hadn't come up with anything yet. Of course, it would have helped if she actually knew a bit more about him than she did. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. She knew he could be trusted, depended upon. He was a friend to her father, and in the back of her mind she had always known she could call on him if she needed him.
Though she never had.
"He can hear you, Kira," she pointed out with a frown instead. "Keep your voice down."
The other half of that coin was the fact that he didn't know her as well as he thought he did either. She didn't need to give him any added information.
"Emily, the man just pulled you out of your bed, fixed you coffee, and somehow procured cinnamon rolls before you awoke, all without a single kiss or tussle. He's another bodygaurd, isn't he, and you're just too ashamed to admit you gave in to your daddy again."
"He's not a bodyguard." Emily kept her voice firm and free of frustration with a struggle. "Really, Kira, you're making too much of this. I don't tell you everything."
"When it comes to men you do." Kira snorted. "I've listened to you rant for hours."
"Only when they fail to please me," Emily pointed ou
t with a smile. "Maybe Kell pleases me."
Emily kept the smug smile on her face as she sat back and savored the coffee Kell had made. It was excellent, damn him. And somehow, he had managed to get fresh cinnamon rolls without leaving the house.
"Yeah. Right." Kira propped her chin on her hand, her gray eyes staring across the table mockingly as her shoulder-length black hair fell forward and gave her face an exotic slant.
Kira was quite simply gorgeous. Perfect facial features, pouty lips, seductively tilted eyes, and perfectly arched brows. She considered herself the ultimate seductress with just enough mocking amusement to assure a person that she didn't take it seriously.