Protected By The Highlander (Medieval Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  His mouth fell open. “Wait, what?”

  She said, “I ...” Oh for God’s sake! Her body throbbed and ached and she wanted nothing more than to make love with him yet again but that was as bad as what she had already done. If she got out now she still had a great reference just because of the work she had done on the project and she could avoid any more sticky and unpleasant….whatever this was.

  She wanted to cry. He was the perfect man, below that exterior he was warm and kind and funny and caring. He was also ambitious and a playboy and addicted to fast cars and money and while he was, in part, everything she wanted that last part kept him from being anything that she needed. Not to mention he was probably used to seducing women and walking away.

  She, however, was not used to this kind of things and she was floundering and uncertain and mortally afraid.

  Dante reached for his slacks and pulled them on but he didn’t button the top button. The effect was overwhelmingly sexy. He came toward her and she backed away. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender and said, “look, I don’t do things like this…”

  “I know you don’t. I can tell you are confused and scared and I just want to talk to you, okay? Here, sit down.”

  His hand met her arm. She swallowed back a wave of desire and sat, crossing her arms over her body in a gesture of self-protection she knew he wouldn’t miss.

  He said, “listen to me Megan. I don’t want a one-night stand with you. I also don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me to get a job at the company. You already have a job. The packet was sent to HR yesterday. You should have gotten it this afternoon. It was on your desk when we left so I assumed that you had looked at it.”

  She stared at him. “I didn’t make it back to my desk.” Her throat hurt. Now she knew. She had blown a great job, and all for what was undeniably the most incredible sex she had ever had in her entire life but still just sex. That was all that he had offered her. Tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

  His hands went to her hair and then his thumb pressed gently right below her eyes, wiping away the tears. “Megan, listen to me. I know I’m…I have the world’s worst reputation. I know what people think and women say. I won’t tell you that a lot of it isn’t true because it is.

  “What I will tell you is that from the moment you walked into my office all I could see was you. I haven’t gone out on weeks. I haven’t been on a date or whatever you want to call what I did before you walked into my life.

  “I want you. You are the only woman I want. I don’t know what happened to me but as soon as I saw you, I knew you would be the one to change everything about hwo I lived my life. I did my level best to keep the hell away from you and I thought I was doing a damn good job of it too. I know you don’t really want me as much as I want you and that you have little feelings for me…”

  “Are you nuts? I had to run away from you every time you walked into a room or risk getting fired for sexually harassing you. And that…you’re amazing. I mean, you are. But only underneath it all. On top of it all you’re an arrogant and cruel bastard, and you have been known for being…um…a playboy. I can’t be with someone like that. Like the top part of you I mean and I don’t know how much of that is really you, and how much of the bottom parts of you—the humor and the everything else—is really you either.

  “And you told me, that first day, that if you really wanted to win what you had to do was get to know somebody inside out so you could win. I don’t know if that is what you did to me or if that is what you are doing to me now either.”

  His lips thinned out. “I deserve that. I really do. I don’t know how to answer it either except to tell you that that is most assuredly not what I did. I did get to know you but not because I was trying to win you over like I do clients or people I need for something. I was trying to win you over because I want you, and I need you in my life.

  “If you’ll just get to know me a little better you will see that I really am the person below what everyone else sees. I have to hide that part of me a lot. You’re one of a few people who really sees me and maybe that is what makes you so special and me so unable to just walk away from you. And believe me, a woman only usually has to tell me once to get out of her place for me to go. In fact I usually leave before they can even think of it.”

  Anger swelled up. “Wow. That’s nice. You know I won’t tell you twice. I’ll just let you walk then.”

  Dante held his hands up. Weariness covered his face. He said, “I phrased that wrong. I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to say and I’m sorry. I’m a little angry and at a big loss here. I don’t know how to express to you that I think you’re the woman I have always wanted without my ego insisting that I prove to you that I am the best man on the planet and I went about that all wrong.”

  He stood and put on his clothes. He paused at her apartment door and said, “Megan, if you want to work at the company you can and I won’t ever bother you again. If you want to go I won’t stop you. I won’t like it but I won’t stop you.

  “I tell you what. If you want the job report to the HR in the morning and accept it. If you want me, I will be in my office. I think, honestly, you can have both if you want me and the job. We make a great team, and I want you on my team and I want to be on yours.”

  He left and Megan sat on her sofa, staring at the wall. Her mind spun and her heart ached. Could he be serious? And what the hell was wrong with her? He had just poured his heart out to her and she had basically tossed him out all because of something he had said? She sighed. Everything in her wanted to run after him and tell him she was sorry but she couldn’t.

  She just couldn’t.

  ***

  Dante spent a sleepless night and when he arrived at the office to see nobody but his assistant his heart plummeted even further. He really had hoped he would see Megan there.

  Had she taken the job? A simple phone call would tell him. He reached for the phone, his spirits low and his mood even lower.

  The door opened and his heart soared for a moment then dropped again as he heard his assistant say his name. But his heart lifted again as Megan walked past her and closed the door softly.

  She approached his desk and said, “I chose both.”

  He came around the desk and took her into his arms. Her mouth met his and her body snuggled into the hollows of his body, completing the empty spaces that had been there before her arrival.

  THE END

  BRAD

  High Risk Passions

  Brad Draper is bigger than life and twice as sexy. He plays by his own rules and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. He earned his startup stake in Rogue Enterprises by street racing motorcycles and he’s known for taking chances with his life and money, but never his heart. Until now.

  When Brad first met Carrie he saw a plain woman, but then she fastened her big green eyes on his and smiled and he lost his head, and his heart. Finding out she was the daughter of his biggest competitor couldn’t dim the fiery attraction he felt for her either. Brad’s used to risking it all, but being with Carrie is the biggest risk he might ever take because he isn’t playing with power or money, he’s playing for her heart—and his.

  Carrie Heeden doesn’t want anything to do with Brad. He’s irritating and far too gorgeous. He’s her father’s biggest competitor. He’s…sexy and charming and a heartbreaker playboy with too much of the player still in him.

  She’s sure her father will squash him if she dates him, and she’s equally sure he’ll break her heart to smithereens but no matter how much she tries to stay away from him he just keeps trying, and he’s a man who knows and gets exactly what he wants, and her self-control is always in danger every time he is around.

  In a world filled with high stakes business, and higher risks, Carrie and Brad will become players in the most high stakes game of all.

  Love.

  CHAPTER 1:

  The chromed-out custom bike slid to a halt at the curb. The man astrid
e it was a vision of black leather, blonde hair made deliciously messy thanks to the wind, and scruffy sexiness highlighted by a faint stubble of beard on his strong jaw.

  Carrie, standing near the door of her tiny art studio, took an involuntary step back when he swung one long leg off the bike and headed toward her door. The sun glinted off his hair, and his lean hips, caught in a tight wrapping of denim, moved with an athletic grace that sent her heart into warp speeds.

  He opened the door, making the little bell over it tinkle and she gulped and said, “Good morning.”

  The aviator sunglasses slid down over his narrow nose. Two bright blue eyes peered at her quizzically. She knew what they saw. A woman who was slightly too tall and too thin, a mop of black hair cut short so its curls hung all around her elfish face. Green eyes that were the best feature in an otherwise plain face.

  He said, “I need a gift and the person I need it for adores your work.”

  Wow. What an asshole. And a terse asshole at that. She forced a smile and told herself a sale was a sale no matter how much of an asshole the customer was. She asked, “What of my work do they like the most?”

  He hooked a finger around the bridge of the glasses and they moved upward and onto the top of his head. One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I have no idea. They didn’t say.”

  Carrie sighed inwardly. He was probably in trouble with his girlfriend and trying to make nice. That was the likeliest scenario anyway. Men like him, sexy and mysterious and obviously dangerous, were always in trouble with their girlfriends. And usually with good reason.

  “Are they a regular client?” Her words held a caustic trace.

  He said, “I would guess so.” He pointed to a lovely sculpture made of sand that had been turned into glass by a lightning strike and said, “Oh, that. I’ve seen something like that hanging around the office.”

  She turned her head, fighting back a rising tide of anger. Her work was important to her, and personal. He’d just managed to reduce it to a that, and it made her want to toss him out on the street on his ass.

  His tight, firm ass.

  Heat stroked her cheeks. Yes, he was definitely having to buy something for a girlfriend he’d pissed off. “That work is entitled Storm Chaser, and it is a natural work, not man-made.”

  That was true. To a point. She’d planted the lightning rods on the shingle of beach near her father’s summer home in Rhode Island just to get that sculpture, something she didn’t bother to explain. It was nature at work, with a little help from her.

  “I see. How, precisely, did nature make it?”

  His voice was a low and smoky baritone. It sounded like late nights and too much whiskey. Carrie could guess that was exactly what roughed the edges of his voice. She cleared her throat, trying to disregard the sudden heat that swept over her body at his words and the piercing stare he leveled at her. “It’s made from lightning and sand.”

  “So, glass.”

  Her lips compressed. “Yes. Glass, precisely. Only glass that was formed by lightning rather than…”

  “I’ll take it.”

  She bit her lip. “It’s four thousand dollars.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay? Wow. He must have done something really terrible. She moved to walk past him. The scent of faded cologne, leather, and wind met her nose. Her body tingled all over. She picked up the heavy piece and said, “The register’s over there.”

  She walked toward it, trying not to look back. A new thought surfaced. What if he had just said he would take it to save face and was, at that moment, heading back out the door and toward that growling and gritty bike of his?

  The bell didn’t tinkle and when she stepped behind the counter he walked up to it, one hand going to the back pocket of those sinfully tight jeans. She asked, “How do you intend to transport it? I mean…” her eyes went to the bike on the curb.

  He sighed. “Shit. Sorry. Hadn’t even considered that. Do you deliver?”

  “I do, in a limited area.” Carrie’s eyes scanned along his body again as he turned back to the windows and the bike beyond it. His body was a study in sharp angles and lean muscle. There was real power in his movements and she had a sudden dizzying vision of him naked and moving, arching and rising again over her body. She looked down to hide the expression on her face and to give herself time to cool down.

  “I need it delivered to Rogue Enterprise’s corporate building.”

  She looked up quickly. “Rogue Enterprises?”

  He asked, “Yes, you know of it?”

  Her lips curved upward in a wide smile. “The four billionaires of the apocalypse? Yeah I know of it.”

  His lips twisted and then he burst into laughter. His laughter was warm and dark like melted fudge, and twice as seductive. “The four billionaires of the apocalypse? Really?”

  Carrie shrugged. “Rogue Enterprises tore down a huge section of the downtown not so long ago. They did it knowing that the area housed a whole lot of artists and creators, who, unfortunately, could not afford the skyrocketing rents those assholes put into place when they bought up the whole street. They’re utterly evil.”

  He said, “You do know that they bought it to promote tourism?”

  “Tell that to all the people who had to move out and take their wares to a section of town where they are guaranteed to be able to afford the rent but not make sales.” Her retort was dry. She was shocked at herself. She didn’t usually get so angry, and she didn’t usually talk to men who looked like him so easily either.

  He said, affably enough, “Yes but if Rogue hadn’t bought it their main competitor Heeden would have and he’s a real shark.”

  She took two long breaths. “I see. So when would you like this delivered?”

  “Today if possible. Around noon if possible.”

  Carrie glanced at her watch. It was only nine, she had just opened the shop and such an early delivery would mean having to close at lunch time. Then again given how little traffic she’d gotten lately and the price of the sculpture it was a pretty safe bet that she’d better say yes or risk losing what might be her only sale today. Or that week.

  “Fine.” She rang the sculpture and wrote out the receipt for delivery carefully. “Your total is…”

  He whipped out a credit card. She said, “I’m going to need some ID and I need to know who I am delivering to as well.”

  He pulled out a license and forked both it and the card over. Carrie went pale. She glanced at it again just to make sure she hadn’t lost her mind and then back at his face, which wore a smug expression.

  Brad Draper.

  One of the four partners of Rogue Enterprises. One of the four billionaires of the apocalypse. And he had just ridden right into her life on a motorcycle and into her shop too.

  Oh Jesus Christ.

  She swiped the card quickly, deciding the worst he could do now was dispute the charges. She handed it back. His fingers met hers and a slow burning heat ran along her skin. She said, “Thank you Mr. Draper, “in as cool a voice as she could manage.

  His grin got wider. “Thank you Miss…” his eyes went to her bare fingers and then back to her face. His smile got wider.

  “Heeden.” She supplied tightly. “Carrie Heeden.”

  It was his turn to go pale. He said, “I see.”

  She said, “Who am I delivering to?”

  His lips twisted. “Dante Sterling.”

  Then he turned around and walked out.

  CHAPTER 2:

  Carrie Heeden? Was it possible? Brad climbed aboard his bike and raced at a breakneck speed toward the office. He was late as hell this morning and he knew Dante would be pissed at him. Brad had decided, at the last moment, to head out for a long ride to clear his head. The days had bene great, and the wind had blown away some of the cobwebs that had wrapped him lately.

  He knew he needed to make some changes. His lifestyle—all parties and women who wanted diamonds and sex, and usually in that order, too much alcohol and way too man
y fast times—were starting to affect him.

  There’d been a gnawing emptiness in his gut lately that nothing seemed to fill, and after he and Dante had had a huge blowout he had known exactly why he was so pissed at Dante—not that he could ever cop to that reason.

  Dante had fallen head over heels in love with Megan, and everything had changed. He had stopped the partying and the good times so abruptly it was like he had never known them at all. He was happier than Brad had ever seen him, and Brad had known right then that Dante had found the one thing that all of them had been missing in their lives.

  True love.

  He was jealous of it, and of Dante and Megan.

  He’d tried to cover that by being an ass to Dante, and being rude to Megan. He’d partied harder than ever in an attempt to make Dante see what he was missing but during that long ride out in the desert he realized that Dante wasn’t missing anything.

  It was he himself that was missing something.

  The bike slid around tricky corners and dangerous curves. He was still caught up in trying to decide if the woman, Carrie, at the shop was really John Heeden’s kid. Could it be possible? He supposed it was, he did know Heeden had two kids, a son and a daughter. He’d met John Jr a few times, little bastard was just like his dad too.

  But Carrie. She’d looked plain, at first. The kind of woman he wouldn’t normally look at twice. But then he’d noticed the depth of green in her eyes, the slightly too full upper lip, and her skin, as pale and smooth as a sheet of alabaster.

  And God she was funny. Smart too by the looks of it. He wasn’t an ‘artsy’ person but he knew that the things in her shop were incredible. She was interesting as hell.

  She was also a Heeden.

  His grin got wicked as he wondered if Dante had any idea whose stuff he bought so much of.

  Maybe it would be fun to tell him.

  **

  Carrie arrived at Rogue Enterprises and stood outside, the well-wrapped sculpture clutched in her arms. Fear suddenly shot through her. Her father would not approve of her selling stuff to these people, much less delivering it.