by Amber Bardan
“How’d you go with Blake on Friday?”
Charlie fished for an answer. Blake. Spew. She’d prefer not to remember his name. It was surprising enough Melanie had.
“Oh crap, that bad?” Melanie’s gaze scanned hers. “I’m so sorry, you should have tugged your ear.”
Charlie waved her hand. She didn’t need Melanie feeling guilty for that debacle. “It was nothing. Just total lack of chemistry.”
“Ah, well there has to be chemistry.”
Chemistry. That hot melting feeling she’d had with her silent brooding barbarian. The hot melting feeling flaring back to life in her middle just remembering him. Except he hadn’t been interested in coming inside when she’d made it clear he could.
He hadn’t even told her his name.
Barely said an un-grumbled word to her.
“Chemistry is over rated.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing worse than having amazing chemistry with someone only to find out they have no personality.”
Melanie burst into laughter. “Doll, when the chemistry is really good there’s no talking or personalities required.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “I assume you weren’t waiting in here just to compliment my outfit, or discuss my abysmal sex life?”
“Well, I wanted to give you a little heads up before you hear it somewhere else…”
Oh, shit.
Melanie gave a reassuring smile. Never a good sign. She wasn’t a PR magician for nothing. She could make, “Hey, your hair is on fire.” sound more like, “You’re looking a little flushed today.”.
But not even her magic, spinning of “We’re taking work offshore,” to “We’re provide industry leading products at rock-bottom prices,” could convince the people whose lives got screwed in the process.
“Jives Tech decided they’d like to investigate other avenues for raising capital.”
“Fuck.” Charlie closed her eyes. Jives Tech pulled out of the acquisitions deal they’d worked on for months. “We needed their sales channels to expand our market. And they have no other avenues, they’re about to fold.”
Melanie pulled herself out of the chair, and walked around the desk, then patted her shoulder. “Sorry, wish I had better news on a Monday morning.”
Charlie’s chest wheezed. Winning Jives Tech, had been her master plan to raise profits. “Someone leaked about the closures.”
“Looks that way.”
“If it’s Uncle Frank, I’m going to find out.”
“Just be careful.” Melanie gave her shoulder one last squeeze. “He can make your life more difficult than he already has, if he really wants to.”
Charlie rose from her chair, and flashed Melanie a small smile of her own. “Not for long.”
“Uncle Frank.” She pushed open the door to the CEO’s office, then stopped.
Her uncle stood in the doorway, pulling on his jacket.
“Charlie, I was just coming to you.” He gave her one of his Frank Halifax smiles. The trademark smile enemy’s of Halifax Technologies would see right before their fate was sealed. Or doomed. Depending on what kind of mood he was in.
“Did you leak the closures?”
Frank simply raised one refined silver eyebrow. One thing she’d learned about her uncle was that the direct approach was the only approach.
“I spent forty-years building this company, the last thing I want is to see it fail.”
She matched his cynical brow movement. “If that was really true you’d be my mentor and not my opponent.”
“I will happily be your mentor. Your mentor who’s your boss not your subordinate.” His smile flattened. “If you don’t like that you can leave, Charlie. You’ll live very well on what I’ve offered.” His voice dropped a notch. “Maybe you’ll discover your true passion instead of pursuing this useless quest to satisfy your father.”
She took a jolting step back. That was the thing that made him such a formidable opponent. He knew how to find a weakness and strike a person right in it.
“You should know by now that Halifax men are never satisfied.”
Hurt blazed through her chest but she sucked it in and met his gaze again. “So I’m learning.”
They stared at each other. They both new the bogus lawsuit he’d launched for her father’s controlling shares, would only last so long.
Eventually Charlie would be in charge no matter who disapproved.
If she could last until the time came that was.
“Come.” He moved out of the door. “I’ve scheduled a meeting in your office.”
They moved down the hall to her office. Bob stood talking to the front side of a broad, suit-clad body. A tall, suit-clad body that filled out every corner of the fabric with wide, wide shoulders that tapered to narrow hips.
They approached the pair.
Rich, spicy cologne entered her lungs with the same achy satisfaction as inhaling from a glass of whiskey. She stepped closer, ready for another hit.
He turned.
Freaking Barbarian!
She froze. Damn her eyes, they drank in every inch of him—no subtlety possible, they gorged—feasted on him. His snug grey jacket hung open above a starched blue shirt. His top two buttons hung open, drawing her gaze to his tanned skin.
Her lips opened. A fine patch of dark hair dipped below the button of his shirt. Her gaze stuck there, her mind filling in the gaps. The way that patch would form a trail between his pecs, down his belly toward his—
“Charlie?” Bob asked.
She coughed and glanced up, looking straight past her car-lifting-barbarian-hero to Bob. “Sorry, Bob, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Charlie, may I present Mr. Connor Crowe, of Crowe Security.”
Connor—he had a name.
He moved in her peripheral vision. She forced herself to look at him as if all her blood wasn’t coursing straight to her extremities—and other more sensitive places.
How fitting he worked in security. How bizarre was it that his would be the firm they’d called. His grey-flecked, violet eyes met hers, captured hers, made her want to either disappear or run toward them. She wasn’t sure which.
“Actually we’ve met.” She extended her hand. Yes they had. When he’d kissed the breath out of her in a bar.
Saved her life.
Driven her home.
What were the freaking odds?
Connor reached forward and clasped her hand in a mock-professional handshake. Mock, because when his fingers closed around hers he showed her the strength of his grip—showed her with restraint—and rubbed the skin on the back of her hand with his thumb.
Her cheeks went warm, and she slipped her hand free before her uncle could sense and exploit this apparent new weakness.
“Yes, we heard about your encounter, which is why we’re all here.” Frank shut the door.
Her stomach lifted. What? They’d heard about her making out with a guy in a bar?
“Since you’ve refused all manner of personal security, we’ve been forced to employ Mr. Crowe to provide covert protection.”
“Covert protection?” She turned to her uncle. Holy-shit-balls. His winner-takes-all smile was back.
What had he done?
“Connor has been acting as a discreet bodyguard this past month.” His smile leveled. “He informed us this morning that he was forced to reveal himself to you in order to prevent you from being run down on Friday.”
“Run down?” She glanced back to Connor, who seemed to stare straight ahead. “No, it was just some idiot with their lights off.”
“Ah, but we can’t be sure.” He held up his hands. “Between the death threats, the incident on Friday, and the unfortunate accident this morning—”
Connor’s gaze twitched and slammed back on her.
“Mr. Crowe feels that the only option to ensure your safety is with full bodyguard service.”
Full. Bodyguard. Service.
Her breath caught—with him.
&
nbsp; It all sunk in. Friday night when he’d kissed her, he’d been on the job. Undercover on the job. Had he been doing his job when he gave in to her request?
“You’re the DUFF that’s what happened.”
The words rolled through her in a wave of hurt. She’d told herself she didn’t care what that one nasty drunk person said. She wasn’t ugly. And she wasn’t a token designated anything. But did she really believe that a man like this sexy, rugged one, would really take one look at her, and be overwhelmed by passion?
She took a deep breath, and ran a hand down her front. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Oh, but it will.” Frank downright grinned. “Our risk management insurer demands that you have a bodyguard or it will be too risky to have you in the building.”
“What?” She glanced at Bob. “And you agree with this?”
“I’m afraid we have no choice.” Bob gave her a consoling frown. “It’s not really such a large concession though is it, Charlie?”
She swallowed. Bob was right. Agreeing to have a bodyguard wasn’t such a big deal. Having this one though?
She kept her gaze from Conan-really-was-barbaric. Judging by his actions, he doubled as a spy. Probably reported everything she’d done over the last month right back to Frank.
Had he reported the kiss?
“And what if I refuse?”
Did Frank laugh about that? She swallowed again, her mouth sticky. Did they laugh at her together?
“Then you’ll be suspended from work, your security pass will be revoked, and you’ll be banned from entering the premises.”
She turned her back to them all and faced the window. Screw you, Frank. They knew they had her. “May I have some time to decide at least?”
“You have until the morning.”
Footsteps retreated.
“Wait.” She spun around. “He’ll maintain this covert protection until then, and stay out of my space?”
Frank paused at the door. “Yes, until tomorrow morning, he’ll stay out of your space. Won’t you Mr. Crowe?”
Connor gave one jerking chin movement of assent.
“Fine, I’ll have an answer for you in the morning.” She raised her chin. “Right now, I’d like to have a private word with Mr. Crowe before he makes himself scarce.”
Bob and Frank left. Suddenly she was alone with her barbarian spy. Her heart thumped a rigorous beat in her chest. She turned to him. A lump worked its way up her throat. “Let’s make this quick. My schedule is tight.”
Tight. She said the word and all Connor could think was tight. Yeah she’d be exquisitely tight wrapped around his—
What am I doing?
She’d walked in, rendering him as pitiful as she had on Friday. Didn’t help she’d worn some stretchy blouse that did nothing to hide the sweet, juicy perfection of her incredible tits.
Her gaze snapped to his and her golden-amber eyes spat at him. “Covert security?”
For a person he’d witnessed every day since she’d been his sole job and purpose, be nothing but warm and approachable, the way she stalked towards him bristled with hostility.
“How much of that involves reporting back to my Uncle?”
Was that any way to approach a man who’d she’d begged for a kiss?
He held back the smirk that was sure to be poorly received. “Frank Halifax takes my report on your welfare every Monday morning.”
“And what exactly did this morning’s report include?” Her voice dropped and octave, and she inched closer. “Did you tell my uncle you’d been kissing your client?”
Heat rose into his chest. That damned kiss. One he never should have given in to. One he’d justified by telling himself giving in was less likely to blow his cover than turning away a woman he’d been powerlessly ogling.
Truth was he hadn’t been able to resist.
Her thick, black lashes fluttered, softly, shrewdly in a way that sent a thrill smacking through him. In the last month he’d witnessed the ready smile she had for the waitress who served her morning coffee, the hug she gifted to the front desk receptionist on her way in, the nervous little jig she did when he watched her from the security room, right before she had a press conference—he’d never seen her sly like this.
It made him want to find out what else he’d missed from a distance.
“My client pleaded to be kissed.”
“So you did it for your job?” Her chest heaved. Fury, blasted from her gaze, but there in the vulnerable twist of her mouth was something else, an insecurity.
How could she think after a kiss so raw, that it could be contrived?
He took a step toward her, well aware she’d have to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “As I asked on Friday, do I look like a gigolo to you?”
“I don’t know what you are.” She stumbled back, out of reach. “But you are fired.”
He stared at her. She looked so determined. Too bad he wasn’t hers to fire.
“I can’t trust someone who’s spied on me. If they want me to have a bodyguard—if they’re going to blackmail me into having one, then it’ll be someone of my own choosing.” She backed up again. “And I’ll choose a woman for the job so there’s no confusion.”
“There’s just one problem with that.”
Her eyes flared. Perfect. A tremor of excitement told him she was going to fight him tooth and nail. And they were both going to love it.
He leaned closer and whispered. “I don’t work for you.”
“If you work for Halifax, then I can fire you.” She smiled over her small white teeth.
Yeah, this girl wanted to fight. Ached for it. He could smell it in the tension of her muscles. The way she jumped at the opening he’d given her.
“My exclusive three month contract has been signed by the CEO.” He watched her expression flicker. “Paid in full. Whether you like it or not, for the next two months you’re mine.”
Her tongue darted out, and her breaths paused. Did she like that? Did she like the idea of being his?
“Oh, Mr. Crowe.” She shook her head, and the cunning in the movement slayed him. “You’re going to have a hard time making that happen.”
“It’s going to happen, Charlie.” He stepped closer, then closer again. “So I’ll give you this one warning.”
Her heel bumped the wall off window, and her palms flattened behind her on the glass.
“I don’t mind a fight, so go on ahead and resist.” He bent until his mouth came level with the small white shell of her ear. “Because the more you do the harder I’m going to bring it. It’s up to you how you want to do this.”
She grabbed his shoulder, then her mouth was against his ear. “You’d better bring it because I’m going to give you hell.”
He chuckled. “Then the consequence for resistance will be on you.”
Continue Reading
Read more by Amber Bardan
Bad For You Series
Thrillingly Sexy Romances
Didn’t I Warn You
Didn’t You Promise
Don’t Lie to Me
Alpha Romances
All the Alpha you can handle
For Her Protection
Coming Soon
King’s Captive
Twice As Hard (Too Taboo Anthology)
About the Author
After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fueled adrenaline haze writing thrillingly erotic romance. She lives with her husband and children in semirural Victoria. Amber is an award-winning writer, Amazon bestselling author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild and Writers Victoria.
Find out more about Amber by visiting her website, www.amberabardan.com. Connect with Amber on Facebook or Twitter
Join Amber’s Newsletter for updates and giveaways
Follow on Amazon
Email Amber at mail@amberabardan
.com
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my husband, whose support makes my dream job possible. Thank you to our parents, the grandparents of our kids, for always helping out. Thanks to my sister Melissa, for being my reader cheerleader.
A million times thank you to my dear friend Dani, for all your wisdom and guidance.
Thank you to my publicist, Neda, for your wonderful work and for making my job easier.
Thanks to all my lovely friends at Melbourne Romance Writers Guild and also Romance Writers of Australia for making this journey an even greater one.
My dear critique partner Eden Summers, thank you for the many hours of critiquing and cheerleading. Your support has meant so much.
This writing gig can be lonely—thank you to all my virtual friends. Connecting with you keeps me sane and grounded. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave messages, reviews, comments and tweets about my books.