“Ms. Diallo. Where are you headed? This is not the way to your office.”
His voice had grown considerably softer as he scanned their surroundings.
How does he know the way to my office already?
An irritated breath rushed passed her lips before she answered.
“Mr. Erickson, like I said before, please call me Dana. And if you must know, I'd planned to use my freedom doing something I would enjoy, not that you care about my enjoyment.”
He released a low grin that ticked her off. Dana snatched the wheel sharply, making a U-turn.
His smile dissolved into a frown, along with the words he was about to speak, as his body went halfway across the backseat. He gripped the passenger’s rear door to keep himself upright.
After he straightened, his eyes bore into hers. The rearview mirror was their dividing line.
“Ms. Diallo. I didn’t say you had to forgo time you would enjoy. I have to be around, so I can do my job.”
The sharpness of her voice grew more intense.
“It’s Dana, Mr. Erickson. Call me Dana. My personal enjoyment is just that—personal. It won't be the same with company. I’m better off going to work and making myself productive, if I’m going to be watched.”
“Neal, call me Neal, Ms. Diallo,” he said, as his voice inched up a notch.
She hid a smirk, knowing she was pissing him off. Was she finally seeing a crack in that handsome poker face of his?
“Maybe we can figure out a way for you to get some personal enjoyment. I'll keep my distance, so that you can have a little privacy, if that’s what you need.”
Surprised by this declaration, she didn't answer but appreciated his effort. When she thought she had him, he’d found a way to put things back on an even keel.
Chapter 5
Wet Panties
Once at her office, Neal scanned every corner of the large space. Her office was sparsely furnished but immaculately decorated. A large cherry wood desk sat in the center in front of a large black leather chair. An array of futuristic metal tables and statues sat in strategic areas and presented a common theme throughout her office.
The place would have been too dim if not for the wall of glass windows that made up the right side of the room. The windows were tinted, making the light project with a hazy glow. The other side of the space presented a wall of shelves. Some of the shelves housed books and some contained decorative vases and more of those futuristic metal statuettes. Two designer gold-and-red, striped chairs sat in front of Dana’s desk and helped bring color into the space.
A large painting appeared to hover on the wall behind her desk. It was an explosion of colors and, although simple, it was likely as expensive as everything else in this space. Another smaller desk sat, displaced near the windows. Neal assumed it was where Dana’s former guards sat. He decided rather quickly that he wanted to sit in another area. The last thing he wanted was to sit so close watching her all day.
Once he was satisfied, and somewhat familiar, with her workspace, Neal planted himself in the entryway, located near the exit. The partially mirrored portion of her front wall was designed so that it gave him a view of her.
She probably didn’t think so, but he wanted to provide her some semblance of privacy. He situated himself so that she wouldn't see him, unless she stepped away from her desk. He couldn’t imagine going through life with someone constantly watching him.
Occasionally, he would glance up and observe her work. He was intrigued to find that for a wealthy woman, she didn’t mind working hard. She had a problem with being told what to do, but she didn’t act as spoiled and as privileged as he'd expected.
Wait. It's too quiet.
The shuffle of paper and the click of fingers striking the keys of her laptop stopped. Even the periodic phone conversations stopped.
He’d thought nothing of her bathroom break announcement, but it should have triggered an alarm that she might try something. She couldn't possibly get away through her bathroom window because it sat atop a twenty-five story drop.
Neal decided to check on her anyway, figuring he better take heed to the repeated warnings about her crafty nature. For all he knew, she had a plan, even one that covered a twenty-five story getaway.
His first few knocks went unanswered. He knocked harder.
“Ms. Diallo, are you okay?”
No answer. He turned the knob, finding the door locked. She'd been in there at least ten minutes, more than enough time for her to formulate an escape plan.
“Ms. Diallo, I’m only going to knock a few more times before I kick this door in.”
A muffled thump found its way to his ears and increased his concern.
“Ms. Diallo, are you okay? Open the door or I will.”
“Give me a second, please,” she called, in a tone that was too cheerful for her.
He had no doubt she was up to something, but hearing her voice eased a little of his stress. She cracked the door only a hair. One of her beautiful eyes scanned him before she sprang the door the rest of the way open.
Neal stood in place, observing as she stepped from the bathroom. A few strands of her hair had fallen from the perfectly pinned bun she seemed to favor. She stood before him, taking him in, for a moment.
“You don't have to wonder what I’m doing every minute of every hour.”
She handed him a piece of crumpled material. Observing the material that dangled from her finger, he noticed it was panties, and they were dripping wet.
The amount of mischief pouring from her eyes could have filled up a room.
“I had a little accident. Mixed up the dates of my period and had to wash these in the sink.” She shoved the wet panties into his hand. “There you have it, proof that I was washing up and not escaping.”
He didn't believe her one bit and was certain she knew it. He stood there, holding wet blue silk panties. Instead of being shocked by her actions, he checked out her ass as she walked away. He wondered if she wore any panties since he was holding the pair she'd supposedly taken off.
He stood in place for a moment, wondering why she’d felt the need to distract him. There was a large amount of mischief hidden behind her glowing beauty, a moment ago. She was up to something and he wanted to know what. Neal cleared his throat.
“Ms. Diallo, I’m not here to make your life difficult. I'm here, in case you need me.”
She sat behind her desk before glancing back his way.
“For the hundredth time, call me Dana.”
He kept calling her Ms. Diallo, and it occurred to him that he did it because she refused to call him Neal. He walked to his area and hung her wet panties on the arm of his chair. He was starting to think his job may end up being a lot more difficult than he'd anticipated.
Dana wasn't done by a long shot. Escape plans and wet panties were only the beginning.
She had plans; but he was determined to keep her safe, whether she wanted him to or not.
Chapter 6
Cloaked
Two weeks of following the straight and narrow with Neal, Dana found that she was about to go crazy. She couldn’t stand the day-to-day repetitiveness of it all. She needed the excitement her double life offered, and her father was blocking her with his security geeks. She was itching to unleash Sevyn, needing to hunt something, or someone. While driving, she glanced at Neal.
“You don’t talk enough, Mr. Erickson. You should talk more.”
His gaze never met hers.
“Not much to talk about. I’m here to keep an eye out for your well-being. That is, when you allow me to.”
She laughed, and then said, “If someone wants me dead, or injured, then I will be, no matter who’s around me. Always remember, the scariest people never reveal how scary they truly are. They show you right before they take your life.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“You’ve got a good point, Ms. Diallo. But I’m here either way, and I'll do everything in my power to keep
you safe.”
She observed him as best she could while keeping an eye on the road. He had her curiosity soaring. Not only was he not like the other guards, he wasn’t like anyone she’d met. He was calm and relaxed; but at the same time, he wasn't gullible. He damn sure wasn't afraid to speak his mind when he did speak.
He was distracting and interesting to look at. He had a huge moon-shaped scar that sat above his right eye and ran along his cheek. She wondered how he’d gotten the scar but dared not ask. She believed his imperfection made him more interesting.
Thinking about it, his scar resembled art. It made his face unique in a way that she appreciated. She liked that no one else would look like him, or could ever copy or resemble him. With his height, low hair and radiant eyes, he was a delight to watch.
She found his hodgepodge of incredibly charming and sexy features interesting. His olive skin bore a rich, warm tone. Cream and honey. He was the cream and honey she liked to add to her coffee. He had a kind of low-key charisma that likely melted hearts no matter where he went. The thing she found most interesting was that he didn’t seem to know it.
His calming voice halted her thoughts. She had park and was sitting there, staring at him. He bore an expression she couldn’t read.
“If only I could read thoughts, Ms. Diallo.”
She presented a cheeky smile.
“My thoughts would probably scare you. They definitely would confuse you. Why do you insist upon calling me Ms. Diallo? I don’t like it. Sounds like you're addressing an elder.”
He shrugged, absently.
“I keep calling you Ms. Diallo for the same reason you keep calling me Mr. Erickson. In reference to your thoughts, I’m sure they would confuse me, but I’m not one to frighten easily. I'll admit this though; you do have a cloak of mystery surrounding you. But it won't stop me from doing my job.”
She didn't reply. His banter with her should have made her angry, but all it did was turn her on.
****
For the first time, Neal noticed Dana observing his scar. Instead of distaste, her expression appeared one of wonder. She’d never mentioned his scar, which he found most surprising. As he thought about it, she was one of the only people that looked at him like he didn't even have scar. She stared into his eyes or observed his mouth when he spoke. Each time they locked eyes, he felt trapped under a sorceress’s spell, a weakness he hated to admit to.
Now, on the way up to her office, he followed her into an already packed elevator. Undoubtedly, she assumed he would let it go and take the next elevator, which would give her time to disappear on him.
He entered the elevator and squeezed past her, stepping to the back wall. More bodies squeezed into the cramped space with every stop. Dana ended up being pressed and pushed against Neal several times.
The third time her body collided into his, she didn’t step away. She glanced up, allowing her eyes to search his. Neal was left speechless and unable to move the hand he rested on her waist. Her arms were pinned against his chest, and she made no attempt to right herself.
With only her eyes, she dared him to step away from her until she found the answers she sought. She wanted to know if he was attracted to her, and he’d be damned if he didn’t let her see it. He was sure she sensed it as he attempted to move his hand from her waist only to have it slide over her arm and land back around her waist. For the life him, he couldn’t move.
Finally, she blinked her eyes and he was released. He stepped away, breaking contact so he could catch his breath. She appeared to know exactly what she was doing to him, and Neal was finding he didn’t have any defense against it.
The man that entered at the next stop would surely breach the elevator's weight limit and send them all plummeting to their deaths. Neal assessed the man who was easily three hundred and fifty pounds. His face was naturally cheerful, the kind of big guy that was skinny at heart.
The man squeezed his large body right next to Dana, sending her against Neal. She stumbled and Neal automatically placed his hands at her waist, again, to steady her. Her body heat shot waves of longing into him. His fingers tingled as her perfume automatically closed his eyes. Her intoxicating contact forced him to step away or become a puddle under everyone’s feet.
The last thing he wanted to do was move away from her, but he was left with no other choice. He couldn't allow her to sense his weakness—his inability to resist her pull.
Finally making it to her office, he watched her work.
When she grew tired of sitting behind her desk, she would periodically pace while talking to the voices coming from her speaker. Every once in a while he sensed her eyes on him when she stepped away from her desk.
Although he acknowledged a connection with her, Neal was determined to ignore it.
Chapter 7
Puppet Master
Dana had no idea what type of magic Neal possessed, but his caress turned her mind and body into a tingling jungle of madness. She enjoyed his touch, so much so she did nothing to step away from him the second time she found herself close to him on the elevator.
Maybe, the second time was a stumble she directed, but it had gotten her exactly what she wanted. She wanted to see if Neal’s touch would be as potent as the first one. Unbeknownst to him, he brought out in her a side she'd put on ice.
To her utter terror, forcing herself to fall in love with someone wasn't the smartest thing she'd done. Pressure from the men in her family to find a man and settle down, coupled with her own desire to find love and passion, drove her to force relationships. The relationships always ended with her being the “horrible, heartless, loveless bitch.”
After countless rounds of bad romances, she gave up and opted for letting men know—up front—her intentions. It didn't matter what she attempted when it came to relationships, she always found herself left wanting more.
Her sex life was nonexistent, and her personal life was a mess. She’d dated five men in the past year and had first-date sex with all of them, only to be left disappointed and unsatisfied. All she had left to look forward to was work.
Her assistant, Jordan, cracked her door.
“Ms. Diallo, Brad is here. He informed me that you are expecting him.”
Dana shook her head in dismay, not ready to deal with Brad and forgetting that she’d called him. She called him—unfortunately—due to desperation. Brad was her latest attempt. Since she had no desire to seek out anyone, she decided to give Brad another shot. Dana hit mute on her current call.
“Give me ten minutes, Jordan, and send him in.”
****
Neal listened to Dana talk money and finances too complicated for him to follow. He had to admit that she wasn't just a pretty face and magnificent body, she was also smart. So smart in fact, it was only a matter of time before she came up with a plan to ditch him and strike out on her own.
The man who must have been Brad walked into Dana's office and threw an arrogant head wave in Neal's direction. Neal didn't bother speaking to the smug-faced man.
The man stood in front of Dana's desk with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“You called, and like your puppet, I’m here.”
When Dana stepped around her desk and stood in front of the man, he dropped his posture and cocky attitude quickly upon her approach.
“Brad, my family is having a gala next month. I need a date.”
“Danalyn Diallo, are you serious? You used me and haven't called me in over two months, now you’re asking me to take you out. What is it? Couldn't find someone else to use on short notice?”
Neal smiled. At least the man knew he was getting used.
Dana sighed like Brad was the one wasting her time.
“Look, I don't need the extra words, Brad. Either you want to be my date or not. I’m a busy woman. I don't have time to babysit your hurt feelings and upset nerves. I told you the deal from the start.”
The man's tone shifted from arrogant to whinny.
“I wa
nt more. More than being the guy you use whenever you want.”
His voice grew softer, but Neal was able to discern his words.
“Are you going to use me up in the bedroom like you did the last time? If so, I’m all in. What about right now? We can go anywhere you want. We can do anything you want.”
At this point, Neal stood and glanced around the corner in time to see the man reach out and stroke her arm. She slapped his hand away.
“When I say, Brad. Not before.”
She slapped his hand away for a second time.
Neal stepped forward and repeated her words.
“She said when she says, not before.”
Brad peered up appearing to have forgotten Neal’s presence. His irritated look did nothing but urge Neal closer. Brad's arrogance returned.
“You stay out of this, bodyguard. If you weren't disfigured you might stand a chance. She favors pretty boys.”
Brad reached for her again.
Neal realized a few things. Dana didn’t make good choices in men and this one referred to himself as a boy. Clearly chosen for his looks and not his personality, he was spoiled—based on his appearance—and a dick—based on his personality.
Before he realized what he was doing, Neal had Brad's face kissing the accounting reports on Dana’s desk.
Brad cried out, “Let me go. You're breaking my damn arm. You’re a fucking lunatic!”
Neal repeated, “She said when she says, not before. Do you understand?”
Brad yelled at the top of his lungs, “Yeah, you crazy bastard, I understand. Dana, call off your dog!”
Neal tightened his grip when the man called him a dog. Brad’s yells turned into screams. What Neal found most interesting was the fact that Dana stood there, looking at them, with a smirk on her face. She enjoyed this. The craziest thing was this poor sap he roughed up would likely still be her date, if she wanted him to. Neal bent close to Brad's ear.
Sevyn: Adult Paranormal Romance (BWWM Romance) (Supernatural Thriller) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 4) Page 4