by Alison Paige
His fingers gripped her hips, pulling her back as he pounded forward. The sound of their flesh smacking echoed loud off the tiled walls, but all Joe could hear was the thunder of his panicked heart in his ears.
She could’ve been killed. And there was nothing he could do to change it. He’d almost lost her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Her pussy hugged tight around him, sweet friction humming along his shaft, vibrating through his body. Nerves tingled, drawing sensation in a swirl to his center, his balls pulling tight, need building.
“Kate… God, Kate…” He threw his head back, his hips bucking hard, pressure exploding in a hot rush down his cock.
He collapsed against her, spent—utterly. Kate leaned forward into the back wall to hold his weight, her shallow breaths matching his. Joe wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in the crook of her neck and held her. Lord, he’d never let harm come so close to her again.
Joe’s stomach gurgled, empty, and suddenly he was awake. He narrowed his eyes toward the sun shining irritatingly bright through the cottage window. Kate nestled closer in her sleep. Spooned against him, her bare bottom wiggled against his morning hard-on, banishing all thoughts of food from his brain.
He hugged around her, burrowed his face through her long fall of hair to her neck. He kissed her, breathing in her scent. After a night of sex and sleep, the aroma was less wildflowers and more sweet natural Kate. His cock tingled, balls tightening. Damn, she smelled good.
Joe rolled to his back, his left arm trapped beneath her. He didn’t try to free it. Didn’t want to. He scrubbed a hand over his face, yawning, his cock tenting the sheets. The hard-on wasn’t going anywhere, not with Kate lying naked beside him. Hell, naked or not.
He dropped his hand to his chest and closed his eyes, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, wanting to stretch out the quiet contentment a while longer. Kate’s bed was soft, and her sheets and pillows smelled like her. The sound of her sleeping breaths was better than warm milk.
The whole cottage was comfortable in a way he’d never been able to create for himself. There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. And then she woke up.
Kate stiffened, her eyes snapping open. She wasn’t alone. Joe. God, she could smell him, distinctly male among her flowers and sweetness, naturally masculine, naturally Joe, all sexy and warm. She rolled toward him, slowly, his muscled arm under her neck.
He’s asleep. Inky hair feathered the pillow around his face, his jaw and chin dark with stubble. Long lashes shadowed his cheeks, his mouth relaxed, perfect, kissable. The urge to touch her lips to the little scar at the corner nearly had her following through, but she stopped herself. He needed his sleep. He’d earned it…in more ways than one.
Kate took a moment to appreciate the delectable view. Muscled chest, bare except for the smallest brush of black hair around his nipples, faint lines running vertical across his abdomen then farther down where the sheet tented six or so inches high.
She lifted the edge of the sheet. Someone was having a good dream. Kate always said the morning hard-on is solid proof God’s a woman. Men started their day ready to please. As it should be. Her hand itched to wrap around the darker flesh, to feel the velvet softness against her palm, to stroke the hard length of him. Crap. She wouldn’t. He needed his friggin’ sleep.
After a self-pitying sigh she laid the coverings softly back in place and rolled out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. She tiptoed around to the chest of drawers and picked out matching pink satin boy-cut panties and lacy bra.
She went to the closet, sliding the door as quietly as she could. The heavy wood rumbled over the tracks despite her best effort. It was quiet again soon enough and she pulled a butter-yellow riding blouse from the hanger. She slipped it on, buttoned it and grabbed cream-colored breeches.
She had other clothes, normal clothes, jeans, T-shirts, even a few dresses. But she lived and worked on a horse farm, on a horse. She mostly stuck to the clothes that worked.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
Kate screamed, jumping nearly a foot off the floor. She panted, hand to her heart. “You scared the life out of me. I thought you were sleeping.”
“You gonna answer the question?” He sounded grumpy.
She wiggled her knees, pulling her breeches up past her hips. She smiled. God, he looked good sex-rumpled in the morning. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”
“Right.”
She laughed, pulling the zipper and fastening the hook on her pants. “I was going to run out and grab us some breakfast from the mess hall.”
His brows crinkled. “No home cooking?”
“Oh, no. I like you.” Silly man. Her cooking was deadly.
Joe smiled and folded his arms behind his head, crossed his feet under the covers and did the one trick all males seemed overly proud of. He made his cock bob beneath the sheets.
He waggled his brows. “Come back to bed, dollface. Breakfast can wait.”
Kate’s gaze dropped to the tented sheets and she licked her lips reflexively. She raised a brow and offered what she hoped was a wicked grin. “Trust me. You’ll be needing your strength.”
She came around the bed and then leaned over him for a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
Her hair brushed over his chest, and he snagged a fistful. “I like your hair down.”
Their eyes met, so close she could see the tiny flecks of royal-blue and dark purple in his eyes that, from a distance, enriched the overall midnight color.
“I’ll make a note.” She straightened and he let the strands slip from his fingers.
Kate held her fat mass of hair in one hand and spit the rinse of toothpaste into the sink. Pain in the ass. But Joe liked her hair down and more and more she couldn’t help liking Joe.
She rinsed her toothbrush and took another glance at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She finger-combed her hair back from her face, gathered and twisted it at the base of her neck. She let go and the too-thick mass flowed loose across her back in seconds. Darn it.
“I like your hair down,” she mocked in the mirror. Bet he wouldn’t like it as much if the heavy mop were on his head. God, she was doing it again even though she’d warned herself against it.
She was sacrificing her own comfort to please a guy. And why? Because he was cute, sexy and lickable all the way down to his juicy center? Okay, there was that.
But he’d done more than just look good. Last night he’d sacrificed his own safety to save everything she held dear. That should be worth a day or two of her shoving hair from her face every five seconds.
That’s it. She wasn’t doing the giddy, lovesick girly-girl routine. She was being appreciative. And not because she was hoping there was more between them than hot animal monkey sex.
Heck, she’d hardly even thought about what spending the night, the whole night, in her bed meant to him. And no way was she overvaluing the countless things they had in common, or the easy way they joked and just plain talked with each other. He was probably like that with a ton of women.
But he did seem to go out of his way to be with her. Yeah, he was trying to nail the stalker, but private trail rides and road trips to the feed store, secret dips in the lake and quiet walks back to her cottage every night seemed above and beyond. And last night, when she was in his arms, there was something in the way he held her, a little too tight, a little too long. There was something. Maybe.
A loud knock at the front door broke Kate’s dreamy train of thought. “Coming.”
She jogged to the door and threw it open without even thinking of checking first who it was. “Clayton.”
“Hey, Kate. Need to talk to Joe. He up?”
“No, he’s—”
“What’s up?” Joe’s voice made Kate turn to see him standing in the bedroom doorway leaning his back against the doorjamb. His chest bare, he dipped his hands into the front pockets of his unbuttoned, barely zipped jeans, pushing them lower o
n the narrow muscles of his hips. He looked good. Too good. And she had the distinct impression he’d done it on purpose.
Kate shot her gaze back to Clayton. She could almost feel the rage rippling off his body. He was clenching his teeth so tight, the muscles along his jaw flexed. His ice-blue eyes shifted to her and she felt the chill all the way to her bones.
“I need to talk to your boyfriend. Can I come in?” There was something different about Clayton, something in his voice, in his eyes. He’d changed.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Come in.”
It wasn’t until Clayton had passed her that she noticed the papers he held. He smacked his hand into Joe’s chest, papers crumpled underneath. “Found these in Wizard’s stall this morning. A new love note and photo. Figured you’d want to report it to Mathers.”
“Mathers?” Kate said.
Joe took the papers, his face an impassive mask, his eyes fixed on Clayton.
Clayton stared back at him, though he was clearly answering Kate. “Edward Mathers. Joe’s boss. Loverboy didn’t tell you?”
“I…I don’t understand. I thought Bill hired him.” Kate’s stomach rolled, nausea turning her skin clammy. “He’s supposed to help figure out who’s been sending the notes. He’s a retired cop, a PI now. Right?”
“No. He’s a bodyguard.” Clayton turned to the side so he could see both of them. “Your father paid him to protect what was his. Make sure no one and nothing got near his property. You.”
“Stop it, Clayton.” Shit. She was going to be sick.
“I’d say he’s done a pretty good job.” Clayton crossed his arms over his belly and shrugged. “Though if ya ask me, I think he should’ve told you he was getting paid by the hour before he climbed into your bed.”
“Get out.” Kate swallowed hard to keep the bile down her throat.
Clayton rocked back on his heels, a smug grin playing across his mouth, his eyes narrowed on Joe.
“Clayton,” Kate said. “Get. Out.”
Her stepbrother’s jaw dropped, his head snapping to Kate. “Me?”
She closed her eyes, struggled to keep from screaming, from crying, from throwing up. God, she’d been such a fool. “I want to talk to Joe. In private. Please, Clayton. Get out.”
“You’re kidding. Kate, this guy’s lied to you from the get-go.”
“Yes,” she said, harsher than she’d intended. “And you knew about it. You lied to me too. The difference is you’re like a brother to me. I thought I could trust you.”
Clayton dropped his chin, stared at the floor and snorted. “Your brother. Yeah. Well, maybe that’s the problem.”
“Clayton.”
He turned and headed for the door but stopped on the porch. After a deep breath he glanced back over his shoulder. “My head’s been in a weird place for a long time where you’re concerned. I know you’re right. I know it. I just…need some time to get it straight. Y’know?”
“I know, Clayton.”
He held her gaze for a moment, his bright blue eyes shimmering. “I’m sorry.” Then he closed the door.
When she turned around, Joe had grabbed his T-shirt, gun holster and shoes, and was just coming back through the bedroom doorway.
His scowl creased his forehead. His sweet lips were tight and flat. He stopped short when he saw her waiting, the note and photo crumpled in his hand.
“You going to report to your boss?” The words choked her throat. Tears stinging her eyes.
“Right,” he said, cold, unremorseful.
“Don’t bother.”
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause you’re fired.”
Chapter Nine
Kate adjusted her seating on the rail next to Ginny. “No. Don’t you see the difference?”
Ginny shook her head, watching the campers taking turns loping their horses around the ring. “I don’t get what’s changed. You were fine with it yesterday.”
“Yesterday I thought he was a retired ex-cop, hired by the Thorndikes to help figure out who’s been sending those notes and photos. Today I know he was hired by my self-important, money-can-fix-anything father to stick by my side however possible.”
Including acting as though he had feelings for her and screwing her brains out when the need arose. Gawd, she’d been such an idiot.
“Ooohh, I get it.” Ginny straightened as though understanding lifted a weight from her shoulders. “You think he was just pretending to like you.”
Kate slouched. “Bingo.”
“Ooo, that’s harsh. So you really liked him, huh?”
Pride shook Kate’s head. “No. I mean, well yeah. He’s hot, right? And we had some fun, but he’s just a guy.”
Kate’s belly flopped, tightening. The lie sank through her like cold iron, weighing her down. It didn’t matter. She had to trust that if she kept saying it, kept forcing herself to believe it, eventually it’d be true.
“Exactly.” Ginny flashed a mischievous smile, leaned close and spoke in a conspirator’s whisper. “Least you got some great sex out of the deal. Right?”
“Right.” There was that, although Kate had allowed herself to hope for so much more. The disappointment made it hard to breathe. She’d been such an idiot!
“When ya think about,” Ginny said. “There’s really no reason for you to stop. I mean, if it’s just sex, great sex, then what difference does it make why he’s here? He used his sex appeal to get close to you. Why not go right on using it?”
“I fired him.”
“What? Why?” Ginny whined like a kid who’d dropped her ice cream.
“He lied. He lied to get into the camp, about who he was, why he was here and who he was working for. Who knows what else he’s lied about? I can’t risk him being around the kids.”
“Oh.” Ginny’s slouch returned. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“No. She’s not.”
Kate wrenched her chin over her shoulder to see Joe leaning against the stable next to the entrance. His arms crossed over his stomach and his left ankle lazy over his right, he looked like he’d been there for a while.
“Hi, Joe.” Ginny smiled and Joe winked back.
“Hey, peanut.”
Kate twisted around and jumped down from the railing. “What are you still doing here?”
“Working.”
“I fired you.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Joe pushed off from the stable wall, hooking his thumbs on the front pockets of his jeans. “Sorry, dollface. I work for your dad. Gonna have to take it up with him.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Joe shrugged. “’Til I hear different…”
“That’s stalking.”
“Ironic, huh?”
“Ugh!” She couldn’t argue with him when he looked like that—all smug and sexy, beard stubble shadowing his jaw, bedroom eyes dark, intense. The man was determined and it showed.
She bristled past him into the stables, feeling him follow a few lazy steps behind.
“For the record. I only lied about what I do for a living,” he said when they’d reached the throughway at the middle of the stable.
Kate spun around, but Joe had plenty of time to stop. He didn’t even have the decency to look surprised. “What about the camp application?”
“Your father took care of it.” Joe shrugged. “Or one of his flunkies.”
“You said the Thorndikes hired you to help investigate.”
“No. I told you I was a retired cop. You assumed the rest.”
Tension knotted across her shoulders, her hands balling into fists. “You followed me around everywhere making me think…” Dammit, she’d been such an idiot.
Kate exhaled, leaving the sentence unfinished and turned back toward her office. “Just go away, Joe. I don’t need your protection. There are plenty of people around to look out for me.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it.” He followed right behind her. “I’m
not here to make sure you look both ways when you cross the street or that you eat all your vegetables. I’m here to guard you. To put myself between you and harm.”
She stopped, glancing over her shoulder, her hand on the knob of her office door. “Why?”
Joe sighed, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s the job.”
“Nice.” She didn’t know what answer she was hoping for but that wasn’t it. Kate opened her office door and stepped in knowing full well slamming the door in his face wouldn’t keep Joe out. So she didn’t bother.
“First rule of bodyguarding: it’s a job,” Joe said. “Not a friendship, not a vacation, not a… Not a romantic rendezvous. It’s a job. You’re the job.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Christ. It means I—” Joe stopped yelling. He took a breath, hands on his hips, and began again—calmer. “It means no emotions. Detachment. The principal’s a thing, not a person. Do what needs to be done to keep it safe. Emotions make you hesitate. Dulls the edge. Makes you as screwed up as the stalker.”
“Well, I’m not a thing, Joe.” She dropped into her desk chair already exhausted by the conversation. “I’m emotional and messy and attached all over the place. And I like the people around me to be attached emotional messes too.”
Okay, now she was just babbling. “People care about each other here. We’re friends, family. I’d rather have someone who cares about me watching my back than a detached emotionless…machine.”
“Right.” He dropped his chin. Shook his head. Kate couldn’t read him, and apparently that wasn’t anything new.
Someone knocked on the open door.
“Kate?” Eddy said, mop-water bangs trapped behind his glasses. “I was… Oh. Didn’t know he was in here again.”
“It’s okay, Eddy. Joe was just leaving.”
“No. I’m not.” Joe turned toward him, folding his arms over his muscled chest and planting his legs wide. He looked like a bouncer.
“You okay? You need help?” Eddy’s bangs couldn’t hide his deep scowl. If he had death-ray eyes, Joe would’ve been toast.
“No. I’m fine, Eddy. Thanks,” she said. “What’d you need?”