Keep Me Safe

by Duka Dakarai

  I exchange a look with Kane. There is something strangely familiar about him but I cannot figure why. But I know I have looked into those eyes before. Deep, darkest brown almost black eyes surrounded by densely thick eyelashes. On any other occasion rather than this very one, those eyes would cause instant fluttering in the depth of my sex.

  We drink our coffees in silence before Kane gestures to the others that we are on the move again. He grabs my hand firmly pulling me out of the booth. I try to shake free, instead preferring to walk beside him, but he holds me tighter throwing me a silent warning look. I increase my pace to match his strides towards the Brabus. I am gestured into the passenger seat and, without another word to his team, we head out towards the exit and onto the motorway.

  Chapter Three

  A couple of hours have passed and the silence in the car is deafening. There is a top of the range music system, I notice, but it would appear he prefers to drive in silence. Occasionally, to pass the time, I steal a glance in his direction. I take in his large muscular form and the square strong jawline, framed by the dark goatee beard. I cannot deny he is very handsome, easy on the eye. Apart from the beard. I don’t do beards. He has some form of tribal tattoo reaching from his wrist up the entire length of his arm, and I silently amuse myself by wondering where it leads to. I stifle a smirk. The last few harrowing days are finally taking their toll on me. Soon, I will be giggling like a hysterical banshee.

  “Something amusing you?” Kane throws a glance in my direction.

  “Oh, you do speak.” I retort, rather more sarcastically than I had envisaged.

  He throws me another look but offers no further discussion.

  I cross my arms tightly around my waist. “If we’re going to be stuck together then we need to communicate, don’t you think? At least tell me where we are going.”

  I feel and hear his irritated inward breath. I sigh in unison. Living with this man in a confined space is going to be torture. For a fleeting moment I rationale the prospect of this versus having the Russian mob on my tail. In my current freaky mind, it is swings and roundabouts.

  “Cornwall.” He suddenly breaks my crazy train of thoughts.

  “Cornwall? But what about my work! DCI Mercer assured me that I could still support the investigation…..and I have other work commitments. I can’t be in Cornwall!” I can hear the pitch in my voice rising.

  Kane shakes his head in frustration. “You are going to Cornwall. End of discussion. When we get there and are settled, we will sort your damned work commitments then. Now, do both of us a favour and do something useful. Go to fucking sleep!”

  “I can’t go to sleep.” I spit back.

  “Why the fuck not?” He growls.

  “I need a pee.” I slide down further into my seat curling my legs into my chest.

  ***

  I must have fallen asleep, that or the stimulating conversation sent me into a coma. Either way, the next movement I feel is being lifted from my car seat. I fist a hand in each eye struggling to awaken from this drowsy state. I am enveloped in strong arms, my head resting lightly in the crook of a firm neck. Weary and slightly disorientated, I nuzzle closer into the deliciously masculine smell and inhale deeply.

  “Hmm. Yum.” I murmur squeezing myself tighter against the skin.

  A groan deep in the chest of the person carrying me springs me instantly alert. I wriggle in the arms of Kane as he strides towards the entrance of a large impressive coastal house. Unlocking the door with ease, he walks through several rooms before dropping me firmly into the nearest chair. He re-enters the house moments later carrying our bags. He stands with a hand on each hip and eyes me intently before speaking.

  “Are you awake now? We need to go through some house rules.”

  “Rules? I need to freshen up first and have a drink at least.” I stretch out each arm slowly and roll my neck.

  “Later. Now listen up. The rules are to keep you safe.” He talks determinately and firmly. I tilt up my chin and worry my bottom lip. I know he is right. I await the lecture.

  “I’m listening. Let’s hear the rules.” I peek out through sleepy eyelashes.

  “Rule number 1 – drop the attitude. I’m here to help you and keep you safe.” He begins, halting me as I make to scowl. “Rule number 2 – you must do as I say at all times, for the very reasons I have just mentioned. Rule number 3 – we cannot draw unwanted attention so for the entirety of our time here, we will act as a couple. You will have seen when I carried you in that we have neighbours. For their benefit, we are just a couple spending some time together. They all know me so it shouldn’t be hard to convince them that I have brought a woman / girlfriend / whatever to holiday. This home actually belongs to me.” He finishes abruptly and turns, heading towards what I assume is the kitchen, oblivious to my wide eyes and open mouth.

  I scamper out of my seat chasing after him. “You cannot be serious! Act like a couple? Is that entirely necessary? I could be here on business for Christ’s sake.”

  He swiftly turns to face me, his face set hard. “Why would Sky Sinclair be in my family home on business? Why would you be in Cornwall on business? What are you investigating will be the obvious question? Your big Bambi eyes and pouty lips are recognised wherever you go. Saying you are here on business will draw questions we don’t need. But a couple having some free time together is perfectly explainable. Now follow Rule number 2 – you wanted a shower, go have one.” He barks.

  I cross my arms defiantly and lean against the kitchen work top. “Fine. But don’t think you can touch me. Couple in name only.”

  Suddenly, he strides swiftly across towards me. He places a hand on either side of the work top pinning me tightly in place. Leaning down until he is a few inches from my face, he scowls in frustration. I can feel the heat radiating from his body. “Touching you at this very moment, or the near future, is the last thing on my mind, sweet cheeks.”

  I thrust my chin into his face. “Ditto, Kane. And don’t ever call me sweet cheeks again. Unless you want me to call you something entirely suitable at this very moment…now, if you will excuse me, your girlfriend needs to take a shower.”

  Kane steps back allowing me to ease around him. The smirk on his face does not escape my notice.

  Kane rolls his neck in a circular motion trying in desperation to release the tightness. This damn woman will test my patience he grumbles under his breath. He reaches down to adjust himself inside his combats aware that his cock is standing in salute at her sassy mouth. And you can behave…..

  Chapter Four

  After my shower last night, I looked around the bedrooms and eventually decided on a room that was definitely not the master bedroom. Deciding that the least time we spend together in this confined space the better, I climbed straight into the large bed willing myself to sleep.

  But I didn’t sleep. Instead my mind and damn female hormones decided to play havoc with me. Every time I closed my eyes and began to drift into unconsciousness, I saw dark goatee beards and sultry dark eyes. I grew restless and frustratingly aroused. Damn it, why did the man have to be so Neanderthal yet such eye candy at the same time?

  So as the early morning light streamed through the curtains, regardless of the hour, I chose to get up and start the day. I decide that if I have to play the role of girlfriend then I should make the effort to look like I am happy and in holiday mood. I throw on some denim shorts, a bikini top and a light cover-all. I brush my long blonde hair settling to leave it loose. My sleep deprived eyes need a sweep of mascara and a slick of eyeliner. Bambi eyes indeed! Yes, they are large, and that along with my lightly freckled nose, would give some the impression that I am Bambi-esque, I suppose. Still, I’m surprised he even noticed……

  ***

  Kane is immediately alert from his sleeping position in the chair as he hears the movements of his houseguest. Now that he is awake, he is also aware that it was a pretty dumb decision to sleep downstairs rather than in the master bedroom. Bu
t he didn’t know which room she had chosen and certainly didn’t want to be accused of walking in on her as she slept. Sassy mouthed as she is, he did not want to provide the bullet to kick her mouth off again.

  He palms each eye awake waiting for her to descend down the stairway. A fleeting thought hits the frontal lobe of his brain. Please God, make her dress head to toe in a shapeless smock….preferably a burka….so I don’t have to be tortured by that smoking hot body all day long. And better still, put a bag over her head…..if I look into those baby blues……

  As Sky enters the sitting area, sweeping her way through into the kitchen, Kane slumps his head into his hands, a loud groan erupting from his mouth. Denim shorts and a bikini top! God, what have I done to deserve this…

  Willing his cock to play ball and remain calm, he follows her through to the kitchen.

  ***

  I look at each empty cupboard in the kitchen. Of course there would be no food. There was no time for preparations. I eye Kane as he enters behind me through the kitchen door. He looks weary and crumpled. I assume he stayed awake all night or dosed in a chair. Now is probably not a good time to push my luck so I plaster on my big smiley face.

  “Good morning, boyfriend! We’re all out for breakfast. Black coffee or tea?” I smile as sweetly as possible, hoping to lighten his disgruntled face.

  “There was no time to prepare. We’ll need to do a quick supply grab or better still order in. In the meantime, black coffee would be good.” He offers the beginnings of a smile. I think.

  “Ok, well if you want to grab a shower, then I’ll make us a coffee and prepare a shopping list.” I turn and begin to busy myself. I am aware he has not moved so I turn to face him again. “Something wrong?”

  “Shopping list?” He growls low in his throat. “We’re grabbing a few supplies, not doing the weekly shop!” And with that, he strides out of the kitchen.

  Before I can stop myself or rational thought, I stomp after him. “Being your girlfriend is sooo much fun! Bring on the next couple of weeks!”

  ***

  Kane leans his head against the chill of the tiles in the shower enclosure. He breathes in deeply, releasing each breath slowly. He deserved her retort. He didn’t mean to snap at her. But something in her very presence make his thought processes cloudy….and his cock as hard as nails….and he knows he must remain focussed.

  He quickly dries himself, choosing to dress in his familiar combats and t-shirt, mentally preparing himself for her scowl or maybe even total silence.

  He enters the kitchen and finds her seated at the breakfast bar nursing a cup of black coffee. She looks utterly cock teasingly beautiful, even with a scowl.

  “So, have you done a list?” He offers a smirk and a gentle shrug of the shoulders.

  “No. It wasn’t on the list of rules. I’ll remember not to think for myself while I’m here.” I tilt my chin, matching his smirk.

  “Okay, okay.” Kane throws his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Let’s just try to get along?”

  I shrug my response. I know I’m being petulant but something about being in his presence make my thought processes cloudy…..and my sex pulsing out of control….

  A few minutes later, and once Kane has surveyed the exterior and is satisfied we are secure, we leave the house and climb into his Brabus. As we pull slowly down the driveway, we are flagged down by the neighbour to our immediate right. I hear Kane curse quietly under his breath. Before lowering the window to acknowledge her presence, he throws me a warning look. I quickly nod my understanding.

  “Kane! We thought we heard you arrive last night. It’s been so long since you were here last. It must be over six months. Oh, and you have a visitor?” A woman, perhaps mid fifties, waves a greeting in my direction.

  Kane quickly puts a hand on my knee, patting it lightly, before responding. “Ah, Jean, you never miss a trick. This is my girlfriend. Sky, meet Jean, an old friend of the family.”

  “Hi Jean, pleased to meet you. What a lovely part of Cornwall you live in….I could live here permanently. But please forgive us but Kane promised me a slap-up breakfast and I’m starving!” I smile rather too enthusiastically and sit back in my seat.

  “Oh you too go ahead. Lovely to see Kane with a lady. Never seen it before. Aren’t you that lovely girl from the television? I’m sure I know your face. Such a pretty thing, my husband always says. How did you meet?” Jean steps in closer to the window, inquisitive.

  Kane and I exchange forced smiles. “Oh, it’s a long story which I’m sure we will delight in telling you later.” Kane offers, making to close the window. Jean presses further, causing us both to silently sigh.

  “Well, how about tonight? We are having a barbeque and I insist you come. Please. We haven’t seen you in ages, Kane.” Jean smiles broadly searching our faces for an agreement. We nod in unison and wave our goodbyes.

  We head into the village of Mylor Bridge. There is a post office, newsagent, grocery store, fishmonger, butcher's shop and a pub called the Lemon Arms. The larger towns of Truro and Falmouth are only a short distance away, however, as we only need to buy some basic supplies then the village will suit our purposes. We grab what we need and hastily make our way back to the house. As we are silently unpack our goods, Kane eyes me. “You did well with Jean. I don’t think she suspected anything different from what we gave her. Now we just have to get through this damn barbeque. There was no point arguing with her, and besides, we’ll be here for a least a couple of weeks so we can’t completely avoid the neighbours or we really will draw attention to ourselves.”

  I turn to face him. I nod my agreement. “Will we be safe? I know it seems a daft question but I don’t know.”

  He reaches across giving my shoulder a light squeeze. “We’ll be safe. But remember we have to keep in role, ok?”

  Chapter Five

  My hand is clasped tightly and totally engulfed within Kane’s large strong hand as we approach the house next door. Strangely, as he rubs a reassuring thumb across my knuckles, I feel secure and safe, and do not want to let go of this connection.

  As we enter, I take note that this house, Creek Retreat, is a mirror image of Kane’s family home, Creek Haven - a detached 5 bedroomed, 4 reception roomed waterfront house set in mature gardens of around half an acre with about 200ft. of direct water frontage, 32 foot long boathouse, workshop and slipway. It’s a beautiful family home and certainly a unique ‘Safe House’.

  Jean gushes to greet us beckoning to a silver haired, lofty man with a wide easy smile. “George, she’s here with Kane. I told you it was Sky Sinclair. Look how pretty she is!” She wraps me in a hug as I am ushered out through the French doors to be met by a small gathering of neighbours and local villagers.

  Before long, I am passed through the throng of people, kissed and hugged, like a treasured long awaited new baby. I blush with the attention finding myself searching for the security of Kane. However, I sense, I know, that his eyes have never left me.

  ***

  The food was delicious. Smoky ribs, crayfish and lobster, prime steaks and every salad I could dream about. I think Jean and her husband, George, could become my new best friends or even my adopted parents. The party is now relaxing, after stuffing ourselves to oblivion, into small circles of laughter and banter. Throughout, Kane has sat close by, but I am aware that he has not fully allowed himself the comfort of being relaxed, remaining still in full alert working mode.

  He listens intently as I answer question after question about the life of a television presenter. Suddenly, a voice from across the gardens beckons towards me. “How did you end up in investigative journalism, Sky? You get yourself into some pretty tricky situations.”

  Before I respond, Kane interrupts, assuming on my behalf. “I think Sky just wants to switch off for a while, don’t you, sweetheart?” He smiles tightly in my direction. He pulls himself out of his chair seating himself next to me. He wraps a playful arm around my shoulders initiating a loving couple
façade. I feel a breath catch in my throat as his fingers dance innocently across the bare skin of my shoulder. I hear and feel his similar response as he too feels the jolt of electricity as we touch.

  “Oh, no more questions, we promise. But we do want to know how you came upon investigative reporting. No offence, but you could be a fashion model with your looks.” George implores me further.