She sighed and climbed back into her car, starting toward home. But no. She still hadn’t learned a thing, and if she went home she would have to deal with the fact that she was attracted to Vincent. She wondered what she would have done if Vincent had put his hand on her thigh.
Her heart began to thud hard.
“Oh, great, I can’t even think about the man touching me without acting like a teenage girl with a crush. He probably knows I feel this way. It probably happens all the time, women he’s protecting wanting him to kiss them.” How humiliating. She hated feeling stupid and inadequate, and she hated the fact that she had done nothing at all to help her friends.
Reluctantly, Natalie turned her car back toward The Ladder. With Brad at Mocha Matters, she would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like this.
The Ladder was somewhat quiet by the time she got back, but Neil was still there. He gave her a tight nod, and she walked up to him. “Hi,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”
He hesitated. “What— I mean, what about Brad?” he finally asked.
“We had a cup of coffee. I had to leave. He found a new friend.” She figured she didn’t have to say more. Anyone who worked with Brad must know what he was like.
“Okay. I’m glad you came back,” Neil said. “Want to play pool or darts?”
She wanted to talk, but she didn’t want a repeat of the Brad scene. Activity was safer. “Darts,” she offered. She took the darts from him. Their fingers brushed, and he quickly moved away.
“You come here all the time,” she noted, trying to make him feel at ease. She threw her three darts and made a creditable showing.
“It’s something to do after work,” he said noncommittally. She smiled at him and he blushed again. He turned toward the dartboard and narrowed his eyes as he prepared to throw. He flubbed the first shot.
His skin turned a fiery red and he didn’t look Natalie’s way. He narrowed his eyes again and repositioned himself. His next two shots were near bull’s-eyes. Interesting.
“That was great!” she said.
He shifted from foot to foot in that awkward way he had. “Your turn.” She noticed that he was careful not to touch her when he handed her the darts.
“So coming here and playing darts is a form of release? Working for a brokerage firm must be pretty high-pressure,” she prompted.
“It is.”
“Do you like it?” She turned to look at him, still holding her three darts.
He studied her, his look intense. “It’s a job. I’m not in love with it. Are you just playing darts with me because you’re bored? We could do something else.” He frowned.
She turned and threw a dart. “No. This is nice. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Your questions are the kinds of polite things you ask when there’s not much else to say.”
He was right, but she had just been trying to lead in slowly. She couldn’t very well ask him if he thought his company could possibly be involved in dirty games. Although maybe she was asking the wrong guy. She had been here twice and she had yet to see him laugh, although they were surrounded by laughing people. Maybe the other employees didn’t confide in him that much. On the other hand, he was just the un-assuming type who might get people to talk to him.
“I’m interested in a lot of things,” she said. “And I like darts.”
“Yeah,” he said as she finished up and gave him all three. He missed the first two but gave a vicious but straight throw and made a bull’s-eye on the third. For a second, she got a glimpse of his face, and he looked like a man who had just had an unusually satisfying orgasm. It was the most expressive she had seen him thus far, almost out of proportion to the deed. Crazy thought. Why shouldn’t he be pleased?
She managed a smile. “You’re good. You could give lessons.”
He shrugged. “Want to sit down for a while? I could buy you a beer.”
“That would be nice.” She sat down and waited while Neil tried to get the waitress’s attention. Twice the girl passed by and didn’t see him, even though he was waving one bony arm around.
Natalie almost wanted to call the girl over herself, but she could see the trace of red around Neil’s collar. He probably wouldn’t appreciate being shown up by a woman. Men got funny that way.
At last he procured the beer and started to hand it to her as if he were offering her a glass of gold.
Natalie couldn’t say why she looked up at that moment. People had been coming and going at The Ladder ever since she had arrived, but something compelled her to gaze at the door just then. It was as if she could feel Vincent’s presence when he opened the door and walked in. She turned to look and stared straight into dark gray eyes filled with anger.
He sat down at a table near the door.
She picked up her beer and took a gulp, choking as she swallowed.
“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Neil asked, looking as if he wanted to pat her on the back but not sure how to go about it. “Maybe you came back because you and Brad had a fight? Yeah, that could be it. Brad is always dumping girls. Sometimes they follow him around afterward. Sometimes they even hit on other guys trying to make him jealous.”
Natalie blinked. She could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Vincent was watching her every move. He was like a predator waiting for her to dodge and bolt. She wanted to run. Actually, she wanted to go to him and try to explain, as if there were any explanation he would want to hear. She had abused his trust. He wasn’t likely to forgive or forget that very quickly. Guilt assailed her. What had Neil said? That she was trying to make Brad jealous?
“Brad isn’t here,” she said, not completely paying attention to her own words.
“But people here would report back to him that you were here with me.”
He looked at her intensely, leaned a bit closer, uncertainty and a trace of something—anger?—in his eyes.
Natalie knew the minute Vincent got up and moved to a closer table. Because he thought Neil might hurt her or because he wanted to have a word with her himself?
“I’m not interested in Brad in that way.” She said the words louder than she had intended…or maybe not. Had she meant them for Neil or for Vincent?
An uncertain smile played across Neil’s lips. “Do you want another beer?”
Natalie looked down and saw that she had drained her glass. She hadn’t even noticed it. Every cell of her being was concentrated on Vincent. He was one big bundle of male rage, dark and mysterious and completely tuned in to her every move.
She was as aware of him as she had ever been aware of anything, and heaven help her if she didn’t want to go over to him and touch him, ask him to understand, ask him to kiss her.
Natalie took a long, deep breath. “I’m afraid I may have had too much to drink already,” she blurted out. “I’m feeling kind of crazy. I have to go.”
“Yeah, that always happens,” Neil said.
She looked down. “I’ll be back,” she said, but he didn’t look convinced. She didn’t have time to convince him because she had gathered up her courage and looked at Vincent again. Really looked.
His dark gray eyes bore into her. She felt as if her soul were being sucked from her body, as if she were some helpless puppet, because all she wanted to do right now was to go to Vincent, to feel his warm, solid skin beneath her fingertips and ask him to forgive her.
The very thought scared her to death. She was losing control where this man was concerned, and control was what she had fought for all her life.
With one deep breath, she turned and walked to the door, letting herself out.
And then she ran.
Nine
Vincent waited until Natalie had left The Ladder. Already he had called Derek and asked him to follow Natalie home. Now he simply sat here trying not to think of her with that guy, who had clearly been besotted with her. She had the right to socialize with the men of her choice. He couldn’t go there. It wasn’t his right, and given the fac
t that he couldn’t get involved with her himself, it couldn’t be his business. But the other thing—the danger—was different. He gave her enough time so that he wouldn’t blow her cover, even though rage was flaying him alive. He wanted to go to her immediately, to grab her by the arm, spin her around and demand to know what kind of foolish, dangerous game she was playing. But doing that might only put her in more danger. The last thing she needed was a scene where her name might get mentioned in the papers.
So he waited. He counted to ten. To twenty. To fifty. To five hundred. Then he did it again. He ordered a drink so that he wouldn’t look suspicious. He even took one swallow so he wouldn’t look even more suspicious. Then he carefully got up and left the bar.
He drove like a madman back to Natalie’s apartment. He didn’t bother knocking but used the key she had given him. And when he was sure that all the doors and windows were locked up tight and the house was secure, he turned to her. She was waiting on the far side of the room.
“Go ahead. Say it,” she said.
He advanced on her.
She flinched but she didn’t back away. He hated that, that he was looking daggers, that he was clearly in a dangerous mood, but she refused to run. If she had run, he might have been able to break away from this anger that was like a wild thing inside him. The thought that someone might have gotten to her tonight and killed her made him crazy.
He had seen death, seen what people could do to each other. The thought that anyone might hurt her, cut her, shoot her or take her life senselessly made him insane. The thought that anyone could terrorize her or frighten her all but killed him. He wanted to hit things, throw things, yell out his rage.
And there she stood, just waiting as if nothing at all had happened.
“Were you completely out of your mind?” he asked, his voice much louder than he had intended. But nothing could stop him now that the words were flowing. “What on earth were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all?”
She stood her ground, even though he thought he saw her tremble. The image of another dark, shadowy man intimidating her with deadly intent consumed him. Someone had sent her threatening notes, and she was acting as if that had never happened.
“Were you?” he demanded.
She blinked and two rosy stains blossomed on the beautiful planes of her cheeks. “I—” she began.
“Of course, you weren’t thinking. You were acting on drive alone,” he said, his voice cold and deadly. He swooped across the room so that he was standing directly in front of her.
“Is this so important, then?” he demanded. “Is a byline in a newspaper more important than your life? Is the story all that matters? That’s it, isn’t it?”
He glared down at her.
“No,” she said.
“Yes.” The word was like a shot. He took one step closer and then he was right up against her. She had to tilt her head back to look at him, and she did it. She continued to defy him.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you think having a bodyguard is an inconvenience in your life, an interference. I understand that you refuse to see the seriousness of the situation. And I know darn well that you used deception to go out and meet your friends at the bar.”
“I didn’t.” But her voice wavered. She dropped her eyes slightly.
“Damn it to hell, this isn’t a game, Natalie. There’s a killer out there, and I don’t know where he is. Right now I don’t even have a clue. The only way I can protect you is to be there with you so that if something happens, I can do my job, which is saving your rear end. So don’t even consider running out on me again. I’m warning you, don’t even think about it unless you really do have a death wish, Natalie, because I will tie you up and lock you in if I have to. I will do whatever is necessary to keep your pretty little butt alive, and you can tell all your buddies at The Ladder that they need to get through me to talk to you.”
He leaned closer.
She blinked but she did her best to raise her chin. Her eyes flashed fire. “Don’t even try to order me around, Vincent. I won’t be ordered around. I’ve had enough of that to last me forever. Is this how you get your way? By physical intimidation? Because don’t worry. I’m well aware that you’re bigger and stronger than I am. You don’t have to threaten me. I know who would win in a physical fight. And if you left a few bruises, you could just tell everyone that Jason did it. They would probably believe you. You’re a Fortune, after all, and Fortunes don’t ever do stupid things, do they?” Her voice was small, but she stood her ground.
All the air fled Vincent’s lungs. He looked down and saw that his hands were balled into fists. He was nearly knocking Natalie over with his body. He had raised his voice, lost all sense of reason. He had wanted to hit something, and she had been there, an easy target.
Spinning on his heel, Vincent left the room. He came to the far wall in the guest room and stood there staring sightlessly out the window, his forearm resting on the window frame.
He had lost control, and not only that, he had lost it with a woman. With Natalie.
Who knew what he might have done if she hadn’t brought him back to reality? He had been a bully of the worst kind, just like his old man. Using his size to threaten, not even noticing what he was doing when the heat of anger consumed him. Dark revulsion for his actions filled his soul, but it was done, and he couldn’t take back his words. He wondered if she would ever trust him again.
And if she did, would he ever trust himself?
Regret slipped through Natalie like a constant trickle of ice water, chilling her. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes, bowing her head.
She had accused Vincent of terrible things when she knew he had just been reacting out of concern for her. He was spending day and night trying to keep her alive, adjusting his schedule to hers, and she had acted as if he were simply an annoying inconvenience in her life.
All of her life people had tried to stop her from doing what she wanted, and she had resented them because all too often their fears were built on the assumption that she was incapable. Vincent had never inferred that she was incapable. He merely thought she was being threatened, and she was.
Standing up, her feet dragging, Natalie wandered into the guest room where Vincent had gone. A big bed sat in the corner of the room covered with a light blue spread edged in white lace. The carpeting was light blue, the trim around the doors and windows white. It was a woman’s room, soft and pale, and Vincent, standing with his back to her, staring out the window, was big and male and hard. He seemed to fill the space. He became the focus of the room. She had come to apologize, to say her lines and leave, but she was drawn to him and, almost against her will, she crossed the room.
“I’m so sorry, Vincent,” she said.
He whirled, pain in his eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“But I am.” She touched his arm. “I wasn’t fair. I took advantage of the situation when you told me that you were going to take a shower. I didn’t even stop to think about how you would feel. I was only thinking that I had to help Mrs. Morgensen.” Her throat ached with the need to take back what must have been some terrifying moments for him. Even if she was only a client to him, she knew that Vincent took pride in his work. Daniel had told her how hard Vincent had worked to build his business. To be tricked by a client would scald his pride.
“You were trying to do a good thing,” he said, correcting her. “And you were right. I had absolutely no right to use my size to intimidate you.”
“You were upset.”
“That’s absolutely no excuse. Natalie—” He looked across the room, shaking his head as if he didn’t know where to go from here. “A man my size has an obligation to always be aware, to use his body responsibly. In my line of work I do sometimes have to use physical force, but only if it’s absolutely necessary. I’m never to use it against a client, especially not against a woman.”
“You didn’t do anything, Vincent.”
She placed her hand on his chest, and he sucked in a deep, audible breath. She felt the rise and fall of his muscles beneath her fingertips.
“Don’t make excuses for me, Natalie. I know my business, and I don’t intimidate my clients.”
“Even when they’re wrong?”
“Especially then. Anger toward a client is never an option. Force against a woman is never okay. I could have hurt you.”
She shook her head slowly. “I know you wouldn’t have hurt me. I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just angry and resentful that you were berating me, even though I knew I deserved it.”
“Hell, no woman deserves to have a man looking at her like that.”
“Like what?”
He shook his head and frowned. “As if he wants to throttle her.” He groaned and she couldn’t help herself. She placed her other hand on his chest.
“Did you really want to throttle me? If you did, I don’t believe for a moment that you would. You’ve got some code, like the knights had. You’re an honorable man.” She looked up at him earnestly, both palms planted against the warm, solid wall of his chest.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Damn it, I’m not that honorable, Natalie.” And as if to prove it, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his own.
The world flew away. All sense of time disappeared. All Natalie recognized was this moment, this man and his touch. She leaned into him, and he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle her face.
Natalie had never felt anything like this, nothing so all-consuming. She wanted the moment to go on forever, wanted to explore the hunger that was rising within her.
Vincent’s touch was gentle, even though she knew that he considered himself a hard man. She could see the physical strength within him, could sense the leashed power in his touch. No matter what he said, he was being careful with her.
She moaned deep in her throat, and almost immediately Vincent pulled back. His eyes were troubled. “That was not supposed to happen,” he said, his voice thick.
Keeping Her Safe Page 9