“Again. Now.”
There was no argument. She had no will against this man. No defences left. With one last moan, she exploded. Taking him with her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Joe laughed at Megan when she eventually staggered into the living room. She scowled at him and headed for the coffee.
“She isn’t a morning person,” Dimitri said as he beat her to the buffet staff had set up at the side of the room. It held an array of continental breakfast foods, from Danish pastries, to muffins and bagels. He poured a mug of coffee and handed it to her. “Sit down. I’ll get you a plate.” He tucked her hair behind her ear before turning to the food.
Megan narrowed her eyes at him. Something was bothering her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. There was fog in her head. What brain cells might have been functioning were too damn sated with endorphins to work. The man had scrambled her brain. And she couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She took her coffee and curled up in the corner of one of the sofas, only to notice everyone was staring at her.
“What?” Okay, so it came out a little grumpier than she’d intended.
“Nothing.” Elle’s innocent grin made Megan’s skin prickle.
She looked down at her clothes. Nope, she hadn’t forgotten to get dressed. She was wearing the jeans and white sweater Rachel had bought for her. When she looked back up, everyone was still staring at her, as though there was a joke she just wasn’t in on.
“Okay, what is it? Do I have something on my face?” She hadn’t eaten yet, so not food. Maybe toothpaste? Surely, Dimitri would have told her if that was the case.
“Nothing on your face.” Rachel sipped her coffee before pointing a talon at Megan. “But there is a hickey the size of a tennis ball on your neck.”
“No!” Her hand flew to her throat. Now that she knew it was there, she could swear she felt the thing.
Dimitri, the beast, smothered a smile as he piled his plate high. Megan moved to climb out of the sofa, find a mirror and check for herself. A hand stopped her as Julia handed her a compact mirror. Megan aimed it at her throat and felt the blood drain from her face.
“What the hell? Dimitri? This isn’t a love bite. I don’t know what the hell this is. What are you? Part vampire?”
While everyone else laughed, he sauntered over to her, looking smug. He handed her a plate with a bagel slathered in cream cheese—her favourite breakfast.
“I thought you liked vampires, Buffy.”
“We’re going to talk about this later.” It was a promise. One filled with thoughts of retribution.
“With our words, right? Because, I swear, if this talk of yours involves you kneeing me again, I won’t be responsible for my response. You’ve experienced the Dimitriator in action now. You damage it, you’re only going to hurt yourself.”
That caused hysterical laughter from the peanut gallery, which made Dimitri waggle his eyebrows at her. This wasn’t funny. Not even a little.
“Nobody wants to talk about your dick, Dimitri,” Callum said as he helped himself to coffee.
“I do,” Elle said. “When you say Dimitriator, is that a reference to the terminator? Because the terminator was out to maim, kill and annihilate. If that’s what you’re doing with your penis, I’m not surprised Megan is pissed.”
“No more,” Callum ordered. “I can’t believe I got into this business voluntarily. I used to be a professional. Now I get to sit around in a hotel, paid for by my project manager, while talking about one of my team’s junk.”
“I’m not your project manager. You fired me,” Rachel pointed out.
Callum cocked an eyebrow at her. “Since when am I allowed to fire you?”
“Since I agreed to it. I’ve decided to stay fired.”
There was bewildered silence until Ryan spoke up. “That seems really out of character for you, Rach.”
“Did I ask the cheap seats for their opinion?” Her look was pure ice.
“That’s more like you.” Ryan cheerfully polished off another Danish pastry.
“Fired or not, we have things to deal with. Ryan, you’re first up. Status of Rachel’s apartment block?” Callum sipped his coffee.
“Well, the concierge is seriously pissed with us.” Ryan put his empty plate on the coffee table in front of him. “He called in extra security and informed the cops of the problem, so they’re fine. Totally covered. Oh, yeah, and he also politely declined our offer to train the staff.”
“He doesn’t have authority to do that,” Rachel said. “He’s only the concierge.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a concierge with a grudge against Benson Security.” Ryan looked around for more food.
Megan caught him eyeing her plate and moved it out of reach.
“Dimitri,” Callum said. “The office.”
Dimitri took a deep breath. “The office is a tip. Sorry, Julia.” Megan saw Julia’s shoulders firm in response, ready to jump into action and sort out the mess. “There’s broken furniture and equipment everywhere. The walls have holes. The windows are smashed and the reception area is toast after the bomb went off in there.”
“Bomb?” Julia squeaked.
“Only a little one.” Dimitri smiled at her. “Barely big enough to make a noise. Your office is a goner though.”
Megan gave her friend a sympathetic smile. She knew how attached Julia was to her whiteboards.
“I have everything backed up on my iPad,” Julia said softly. “I’ll get right onto arranging a clean-up and further construction once this meeting is over.”
“Check with the cops first, make sure it’s okay to get back into the building,” Dimitri said. “Work with Ryan to get a full security system in there. We want the place air tight.” He looked at Ryan. “You know the specs, right?”
“No prob.” Ryan had managed to find another bagel from somewhere. He waved it at Callum. “You want a panic room? I keep getting voicemails from the gramps asking me about it.”
“Aye,” was all Callum said.
“Do we know if the attack was Abramovich or Durand?” Joe waved a coffee pot to see if anyone else wanted a refill. Unsurprisingly, Ryan raised his mug.
“Durand, definitely,” Elle said, with an apologetic smile at Megan.
Megan stiffened in her seat then fought to look relaxed. The last thing she wanted was for people to know how much this was getting to her. It was her fault. She needed to be strong.
Dimitri relaxed back into the sofa beside her. His arm stretched along the back of it. He wasn’t looking at her, or touching her, but then she felt his thumb caress the nape of her neck. Strangely, she relaxed at his touch, reassured by it.
“Megan got another text from Durand last night,” Elle said.
Callum sat up straight. “Why wasn’t I informed immediately?”
“You were busy with the office aftermath,” Rachel said. “I didn’t think it was a priority, so I told Elle to continue her efforts to trace him.”
Callum’s expression would have turned a lesser person to dust. Rachel was unaffected. “I thought you didn’t work for me anymore?”
“I never did.” Rachel gave him her own version of the death glare.
“The text said,” Elle interrupted their stare off, “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
“No originality.” Megan was disgusted at the lack of imagination. If she’d sent the text she would have put way more effort into it.
Dimitri squeezed her neck.
“What?” she demanded when she looked at him.
“You can give him lessons on creative threatening messages when we get him.”
She blinked at him. How the hell did he know what she was thinking?
“There was a photo as well,” Elle said. “It was your bedroom.”
Megan’s stomach revolted. “He’s been in my room? That’s gross.” She looked at Dimitri. “My room has Durand cooties.”
“You need to move.”
He was playing with her. The thought gave her tingles that weren’t appropriate in the middle of a meeting.
“Rachel needs a roommate,” Megan said.
“No,” Rachel said.
“Joe?” Callum said. “What’s the word on Abramovich?”
Joe sat forward on the edge of the other sofa. Megan noticed that Julia was positioned as far away from the man as possible without actually leaving the room. Interesting.
“I’ve spoken to everyone I can get a hold of.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. “Rudi is still in London. In a private clinic. He was in surgery. No word as to whether they were able to save his dick or not.”
The men in the room turned green as Megan reached over and fist bumped Elle.
“What about the organisation?” Callum said.
“Business as usual. Rudi is still in control, just out of action for a bit. Nobody seems that worried. The word is this was a personal vendetta and the matter is now closed.”
“The bully ran,” Rachel said to Megan with a gleam in her eye.
“Yeah,” Megan said with a touch of wonder and a whole lot of gratefulness.
Joe gave a reassuring nod. “All rumour and chatter involving Claire has died down. I’d say she’s safe. Rudi has other things on his mind right now.”
Megan felt lightheaded. She’d done it. She’d scared him off Claire. Only, “Are we sure he won’t go after her?”
“There’s a chance he’ll pick up his vendetta when he’s healed. If he heals.” Joe winced. “But by then, he’ll be in custody. So yeah, Claire is definitely safe.” His smile was dazzling. “That doesn’t mean Grunt won’t carry on watching her twenty-four seven, though.”
Megan couldn’t help but blast Dimitri with a megawatt smile. Ignoring the people in the room, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her to his side. He kissed her temple. “That’s good,” was all he said, but Megan heard the depth behind it and knew he understood. Instead of pushing him away she relaxed into his hold. So what if it wasn’t professional? Right now, she needed his touch. Later, she’d remind him that hugging in a meeting wasn’t a good look for them.
Callum shook his head at Dimitri’s behaviour but didn’t say anything. Instead he turned his attention to Elle. “How’s it going decrypting Rudi’s files? You’ve been forwarding the information to the authorities right?”
She nodded. “Every word as I get it. We’re making steady progress.”
Dimitri cleared his throat. “Katrina,” was all he said, but Megan felt his muscles tense.
“I’m sure the information is in the files that are still decrypting. We’ve already come across details on other women that were sold as slaves.” Elle’s face was soft with compassion in her voice. “As soon as Katrina’s information pops up I’ll let you know. Promise.”
Dimitri gave a terse nod and Megan patted his chest.
“You two need to get a room,” Ryan said.
“We have a room. We were happy in there, until you lot decided you needed yet another meeting,” Megan pointed out. She angled her face up to Dimitri. “I think we need to head back there. You know, to debrief.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
A second later, he was on his feet and dragging her towards their room.
“Guess the meeting is over then,” Callum said behind them. “This sort of thing never happened in the army. What the hell have I got myself into?”
Megan grinned at Callum’s grumpy complaint. She didn’t care if they were being unprofessional. Claire was safe and Dimitri was hot. Everything else could wait.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
Julia jerked at the voice, but kept her focus firmly on the iPad in her lap. Joe might think she couldn’t avoid him forever, but she was happy to prove him wrong.
They were in the sitting room of the suite. Julia wasn’t dumb enough to wander off to work on her own, taking the chance Joe would corner her again. She honestly didn’t know what she would do if he did. The temptation to touch the man was so strong it actually made her fingertips ache. But there was no way she could do it, not when he was the embodiment of everything that terrified her.
He crouched down beside her chair, but thankfully he didn’t touch her. She’d spent most of the night awake thinking about his last touch. Her system couldn’t handle anymore.
“I know I came on a little strong.” Joe kept his voice low, just for the two of them. The intimacy of it sent shivers up her spine. “I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to make my intentions clear.”
He’d terrified her, but not for the reasons he thought. “We can’t…date.” Was that even the right word for the things she thought when it came to Joe?
A heavy pause. “Why not?” There was no censure in the question. No anger.
Julia fought not to panic. She glanced around the room. Elle was sitting at her computers, tapping away. Ryan was poring over security plans for the office. Rachel was on her phone, but no doubt aware of everything going on around her. The rest of the team were off doing who knew what, but at least she wasn’t alone with Joe. She didn’t think she could handle that at all.
“I deserve to know why, Jules, don’t you think?” It was a soft question. Gentle, the way only Joe could be.
She nodded, but the words wouldn’t come. Not yet. Her cheeks heated. She hated this about herself. Hated that her shyness paralysed her sometimes. Hated that she was so easily intimidated when it came to personal things.
“Who are you contracting for a panic room?” Joe’s question surprised her. Her eyes flicked to his beautiful face. She saw his movie star smile before her eyes flew back to her iPad. “Please tell me you aren’t letting the Granger brothers build a secure shed in the basement.”
Her lips quirked at the thought. It was almost a smile. “No,” she said softly. “I have a number of companies who specialise in panic rooms shortlisted.” This she could talk about. Work was a safe topic. It wasn’t personal. It was outside of herself and based in facts and figures. It wasn’t emotional and it didn’t reveal the gaping holes in her personality.
“The boys are going to be disappointed,” Joe said. “Although, I hear tell that they want a room like the one Jodie Foster had in the movie.”
Julia nodded. “They watched the film on a date night with their wives.” She smiled at the reminder of that conversation.
“Ryan pointed out that by the time the panic room is up and running the boys won’t be working in the office anymore. They were insulted.” She could hear the grin in Joe’s voice. “I think they’re planning to hang around indefinitely.”
Yeah, she’d gotten that impression too. “They think Benson Security is more fun than retirement.” She thought about it. “Or hanging out with their wives.”
Joe’s chuckle was deep and sensual. The sound translated into a taste sensation on her tongue. He was melted chocolate. Delicious, dark, sensual. A temptation for every woman.
“You trust me, don’t you Julia?” His tone changed. Intimate. Earnest.
She nodded. She did trust him. Who wouldn’t? The man was a born protector with a core of honour so bright it was almost a beacon. When it came to work, to safety, she trusted him with her life.
“Could you trust me with you?”
She gasped at the low question, astonished he’d know there was a difference for her. A huge difference between trusting him professionally and trusting him personally. He waited, a font of endless patience beside her. It was soothing, the lack of judgment she picked up from his quiet presence.
“I don’t know.” Honesty was the least she could give him.
He shifted slightly before she felt his fingers brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She stiffened, alert, focused, waiting. To her relief, and dismay, he backed off. Confused, he confused her so much. Just being around him filled her to overflowing with longing and fear. The constant pull in two directions was exhausting.
“Here’s t
he thing,” Joe said. “I think you’re special, Jules. You think no one can see you, that you slip in under the radar, but you’re wrong. I see you. I see your strength, the way you take care of the people around you, the genius ability you have to organise even the most complicated scenario. I see the wicked sense of humour that bursts out every so often. I see the core of strength inside of you.”
His fingertip caressed the back of her hand. A touch so soft and fleeting most people wouldn’t even have felt it. Julia did. She felt it reverberate throughout her body. The touch made her lightheaded. Because it wasn’t just a touch. It was Joe. His hand retreated and she caught herself before she swayed towards him.
“I know,” he said, “that whoever gets inside that wall you’ve built will be a lucky man. That guy will get to experience the whole package that is you, without you holding back from fear or worry.”
She stilled, his words piercing her defences.
“I want to be that man. I want to be the only man in the world who knows the real Julia. The only man who gets to experience all of you. The only man you trust with everything. I want to be that man so badly, I can taste it.”
She heard it, the conviction. The need, but she couldn’t prevent the question that slipped from her lips. “Why?” She was under no delusions—she was no prize. Most men would be put off with how much work getting to know her took. Yanking her courage firmly around her, she looked into his beautiful eyes. “Why, Joe?” she whispered.
His jaw firmed, his determination clear. “Because, I see you and I know the prize you hide. The you underneath all of this is worth possessing.”
She was mesmerised by him. No one ever said the things Joe said to her. It didn’t make sense, that someone so wonderful would want her. Yet, there he was, whispering earnestly. His eyes heated and she looked away, blushing.
“I don’t know if I can.” She’d been hurt before, decimated. She didn’t know if she could be vulnerable like that again, if she could trust someone with herself that way again.
Reckless (Benson's Boys Book 1) Page 21