Protecting the Enemy (The Protectors)

by Samantha Chase

  “Well, I’m not doing anything.” It was a lie. An obvious one. And one that would never hold up, given what I was doing. But I said it anyway since that’s what you do when you’re cornered.

  He stepped closer and took the sheet of paper out of my hand, his eyes running up and down it before returning to my face. “This definitely doesn’t belong to you.”

  “I’m going to return it.”

  “The theft wasn’t really what I was concerned about.”

  He still sounded laid-back, casual. As if none of this was any big deal.

  It was the biggest deal in the world to me. I straightened up to my full height beside him so I could be closer to his eye level. “I’d like to leave now.”

  “Oh no. You’re not going to run away until I get some answers.” He reached out and took my upper arm in his big hand—not hard but too firm for me to shake off. “Every time I see you, you’re snooping around where you don’t belong. And I want to know why.”

  “I have a problem.” I improvised. “An obsessive nosiness. I’m trying to get it under control, but I have to snoop around wherever I go.”

  It sounded halfway plausible.

  Not plausible enough.

  He actually chuckled. “Nice try. Why don’t you try again—with the truth this time? What are you trying to find in this house?”

  I was starting to get nervous. He was big and strong, but I wasn’t afraid he would hurt me. Mostly I was afraid he would turn me in. I would get in trouble. I would get fired. I wouldn’t have a job to help support my family. And I would never be able to fix everything that was wrong.

  With a wave of panic, I said, “What does it matter? You caught me before I found anything, so no harm done. I’ll just go now.”

  I started to walk away from him, out of the pool house, but he stopped me by tightening his hand on my arm. “Uh-uh. Tell me the truth, Ali Cooper.”

  Naturally, he knew who I was. We’d met for the first time when I was fifteen. But something about the way he said my name made me realize he knew the whole story about my father and his father. He knew everything. He’d finally gotten the whole story. So lying was completely futile.

  A surge of anger replaced the panic. Because he was a Maxwell. And just like his father, he thought everything should just fall in his lap—no matter who he stripped bare in the process.

  “I don’t owe you the truth,” I snapped. “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “Since I’m in the position of deciding what to do at this point, you might reconsider that position.”

  Even his word choice sounded pompous, rich, entitled. I was suddenly so mad I almost gnashed my teeth.

  “Fuck you, Sebastian Maxwell.” I said the last name like a curse. “I might have been stupid when we were kids, and I let you take advantage of me, but I’m not going to do it again. I am not a pawn to be moved around for your amusement, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to be beholden to a Maxwell. For anything.”

  “I’m not expecting you to be beholden to me. I know what happened to your dad, and I can understand why you’d be angry with the company because of it. None of it has anything to do with me though, unless you think I somehow manipulated the decision to let your father go when I was only twenty years old.” For the first time, his tone was edged with something like resentment.

  “I never implied anything of the kind. Just that I know whose side you’re on in this, and it sure as hell isn’t mine. You made that very clear when you dumped me just because your father said you should. Now let go of me.” This time I shook my arm hard until he loosened his grip.

  I took three quick steps backward.

  “So, seriously, what are you trying to accomplish here?” He sounded genuinely curious, almost concerned.

  It didn’t tempt me to open up though.

  I just glared at him, finding him unbelievably attractive, despite everything, and hating myself for it.

  “There’s nothing here to find,” he added. “There’s nothing that can change what happened.”

  “That’s what you think,” I managed to say. “I don’t agree with you. It doesn’t matter now though. I’ll just leave.”

  I needed to get away from Sebastian before I said something even more revealing than I’d already said. I turned away from him and hurried out of the pool house, relieved when he didn’t follow me.

  As I strode quickly back to the house, I tried to clear my mind and think.

  This was it for me. I was going to be revealed for who I was, and I’d never be let back into this house. I would probably be fired, but I’d deal with that later. For now, I just needed to find anything I could while I was here.

  No one noticed me in the slightest, and I headed back toward the home office. There, I returned the papers I still held to the file I’d found them in, and then I looked around, realizing immediately what I needed to do.

  The obvious place to find incriminating information was on his computer. I never would have risked logging on under normal circumstances, but this was my last chance. I might have as little as five minutes before Sebastian found Gentry and told him the truth.

  So I ignored all the prickling of my conscience and the roaring of my fear instinct and sat down at the computer desk. I checked the computer and saw it was on, so I clicked the mouse to clear the blackened screen.

  If there’d been a login required, I’d never be able to get on. I wasn’t any sort of computer whiz, and I wasn’t even very good at guessing games.

  But the desktop came up immediately. Evidently, Gentry hadn’t logged off the last time he’d used the computer.

  So everything was available to me. It was like a gift from heaven.

  Quickly I pulled up the folder list and scanned them. I had absolutely no idea what I was looking for, so it all looked like gibberish to me.

  How the hell did people do this sort of thing in movies—managing to land on exactly the right document in the three minutes they had before the bad guys showed up?

  I clicked a folder and then scanned the documents, but none of them looked like they’d be helpful.

  I was just opening another folder when the office door opened.

  It didn’t happen in slow motion, the way the approach of doom should really occur. The door just swung open, and Gentry and Sebastian appeared in the office.

  I froze.

  If I thought it was bad being caught in the pool house, it was nothing compared to being caught now.

  There was absolutely no way to talk myself out of this.

  I just stared, completely frozen, too stunned to even be scared.

  “What the hell?” Gentry demanded, stepping farther into the office with an angry glare.

  “So you managed after all?” Sebastian asked, sounding light and innocuous. He moved until he was beside Gentry. “How long did it take you to get on?”

  He was looking at me, talking to me, but I had no idea what he was talking about. He was acting like he and I understood each other, but we definitely didn’t.

  “You know what’s going on?” Gentry asked, sounding angry and confused. “What is this woman doing in my office?”

  “Nothing that’s a threat. I was worried that we were too lax on security in the private rooms, so I asked her to see if she could sneak back here and get onto your computer. She works for the event planner, so she has no experience in doing this sort of thing. But she obviously managed with no problem.”

  I stared at Sebastian in even deeper shock than before. He was saying the words—casually, like they were true and not that big a deal—but I couldn’t understand how it was happening.

  He was making an excuse for me. He was covering for me.

  Why the hell would he be doing that when I’d done nothing but resent him for his family ties?

  “How long did it take you?” Sebastian asked again, giving me a discreetly significant look that was impossible to misinterpret.

  He was telling me to get it together and play al
ong. So I did.

  “Less than ten minutes. It was easy. The computer was left on.”

  Sebastian shook his head at Gentry. “Sloppy. I have some suggestions about improving your security habits so this sort of thing can’t happen so easily.”

  “Okay. Thanks, I guess. I’d prefer you to have told me you were doing this little stunt beforehand, but I can see that I was vulnerable here. You’re just like your dad. Always thinking outside the box.”

  I could tell Sebastian didn’t like that comment, but the expression just barely flickered on his face before he smiled. “I guess so. You can go, Ali. Thanks for helping out.”

  I got up and stumbled toward the door, baffled and disoriented.

  Sebastian had just saved me, and I had no idea why.

  ***

  I made a quick exit, even though there was some more I should have done at the house that afternoon. I was too rattled to get any more work done.

  I went home, stopping by the grocery store on the way and then doing some housecleaning and fixing dinner. But Tyler wasn’t home, and Dad and Rosie were both quiet and withdrawn, so I had nothing to do but think about Sebastian.

  There could only be one explanation for why he had helped me out. He wasn’t like his family. He wasn’t a selfish, entitled ass. He was just a nice guy, and I’d treated him like total crap.

  Eventually the guilt and gratitude propelled me to action. I hadn’t behaved right, and I needed to do something to fix it.

  I remembered he’d said he was staying at a hotel near the Gentry house while he was working this job since it saved him the long commute back to DC every night, so I got in my car and headed over there.

  My skin felt cold, and my hands were shaky as I knocked on his door. Room 421, like he’d told me that day he walked me out to my car. I’d never done anything like this in my life—showing up at the door of a man unexpectedly. He might be busy. He might have someone over. He might be annoyed with me and not really want to see me standing here.

  I suddenly regretted the spontaneous move and turned on my heel to walk away.

  I’d taken two steps when the door opened.

  So Sebastian found me—not just standing at his door like a normal person—but running away after having knocked, like some sort of schoolboy playing a prank.

  My cool skin flushed red as he said, “Ali?”

  I froze, still facing in a different direction. “Hi.”

  “What are you doing here?” He sounded surprised and baffled, and that made me feel worse since he obviously thought it was bizarre that I would be here, outside his hotel room, at 9:25 in the evening.

  I managed to summon enough sense to turn my head to face him. He wore workout clothes—T-shirt and gym shorts—but he wasn’t hot and sweaty, so he must not have worked out yet. He looked bigger and more masculine than normal—but also more real, with his bare legs and feet. I gulped at the sight of him and tried to think of something to say.

  I couldn’t even remember what I was doing here.

  He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, turning me around so my whole body was facing him. “Ali? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He sounded more urgent, worried.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I finally managed to say, his concern pushing me into speaking at last. “I’m sorry to just show up. I just wanted to... to...”

  “To what?” His face changed, softened somehow in that way I remembered from years ago, that way that made my heart clench strangely.

  “To say thank you. For helping me out earlier. I would have been in big trouble. Lost my job or even worse. I don’t know why you helped me, but I wanted to thank you. I’d done nothing to deserve it, so... so thank you.”

  His face softened even more, this time into a smile. His green eyes warmed into an almost intimate look. “You’re welcome.”

  I stared at him, suddenly wanting to kiss him again, fighting a compulsion to reach out and touch his chest, his face. “Why did you?”

  He seemed to be distracted by our shared gaze too. He blinked at my question. “Why did I what?”

  “Why did you help me?”

  “Oh.” The corner of his mouth quirked up briefly. “I make a point of rescuing beautiful women whenever I can.”

  “Oh.” It was nice to be called beautiful, but the words were somehow disappointing. I’d thought he’d helped me for me, but maybe he would just help anyone who needed it.

  I liked that he had a good heart, but I wanted him to feel like I was someone special, the way he’d acted when we were together before. I looked down at the floor, realizing there was no reason for me to assume he would think anything of the kind, that he would treat me differently than anyone else.

  He reached over and cupped my face, raising it so I was looking at him again. His expression had changed. It wasn’t amused anymore. It looked deep, meaningful, and it took my breath away. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble, Ali. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. I’ve always felt this urge to take care of you, and it hasn’t gone away. None of my feelings for you have gone away, no matter how hard I’ve tried to get rid of them.”

  I swallowed hard, a rush of emotion drowning any rational thoughts I might have had. “I’m glad,” I said very softly, my hands lifting of their own accord to flatten against his strong chest. I couldn’t seem to look away from him.

  “So am I.”

  I couldn’t exactly follow his words, but it didn’t really matter. I knew exactly what he meant, what he was feeling. I could see it in the blaze that suddenly consumed his eyes, his expression. He leaned down toward me at the same time I was stretching up toward him.

  Then his lips claimed mine, moving against them gently at first—his tongue playing along the line of my mouth—and then a little harder, deeper. I responded eagerly, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my body into his. He was big and strong and hot, and his heart was so kind.

  I wanted him. All of him.

  My head was spinning when he finally pulled away, a little smile on his mouth. “That was a very nice surprise to have show up on my doorstep.”

  I blushed and dropped my eyes although I was still clinging to his shirt. “I just came here to thank you. Not to kiss you.”

  “Well, I for one have no objection to the change of plans.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Me either.”

  “Do you want to come in? I’d like to hear more about what you’ve been doing at the house.”

  I nodded, trusting him intuitively, despite how he’d acted before.

  He had changed. He was different now.

  So was I.

  He fixed some coffee on the little machine in his room, and we sat down on the little couch.

  “Tell me what’s been going on,” he said, looking like he genuinely wanted to know.

  So I told him. Everything. All about what his family’s company had done to my dad. What the consequences were to my family. How the Gentry job had fallen in my lap and what had come to me as a possible plan—a way to finally seek justice.

  I never talked so much. I literally couldn’t remember ever talking so much in my life. But it all came spilling out, and whenever he asked a question, I ended up saying even more.

  He was listening. I could see that. And his face seemed to be full of understanding and a kind of thoughtful sympathy.

  When I finally finished my story, we sat in silence for a minute. I felt exhausted and wound up at the same time, and an excitement I’d never experienced before was simmering inside me at the connection I felt with Sebastian.

  He didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, he pulled me against him and wrapped both arms around me.

  I clung to him, feeling safe and understood and known.

  “I’m sorry all that happened,” he murmured against my hair.

  “It’s not your fault.” I pulled away enough to look up at him. “It’s not your fault, Sebastian.”

  “Some of it was. I dump
ed you back then, and I’ll never stop regretting that decision.”

  I cleared my throat, realizing a wound was finally healing in my heart after so long. “Why did you? Did you really not care about me that much?”

  “I did care about you. So much. You were the most important thing to me. But my father...” He trailed off.

  “I know he didn’t want us together. I realize that would have been really hard for you.”

  “It wasn’t that. I would have happily put up with his disapproval, if it meant I could be with you. But he threatened your scholarship. He said he would take it away if I kept pursuing the relationship. And I... I believed him.”

  I could barely breathe over the shock. “What?”

  “I believed him. I realize now it was probably an idle threat. He would have needed an excuse for pulling your scholarship, and he wouldn’t want to face public scrutiny for doing it for no good reason. But I believed him back then. And I thought it would hurt you more to lose your scholarship.”

  “Oh my God, Sebastian!” I gasped. “Oh my God!” I reached out to grab his hand and hold it in both of mine. “I had no idea.”

  “I know you didn’t. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  I was starting to process this new information, and joy and excitement were now vying with shock and confusion in my heart. “I’m sorry you had to make that decision. And I’m so sorry I thought you were heartless when you were anything but. It was your father, not you. And I’m so sorry I tried to paint you with the same brush.”

  He gave a half shrug. “You wouldn’t be the first. They’re my family. I feel like I spent most of my life trying to be my own man, rather than just a Maxwell.”

  “You are your own man. You’re an amazing man.” I couldn’t believe I’d said something so revealing, but I didn’t regret it, especially when I saw the expression on his face.

  “Not nearly as amazing as you,” he said hoarsely, cupping the back of my head. Then he kissed me again, and it was even better this time—deeper, nothing held back.

  I twined my arms around his neck and opened myself fully to him. His mouth was hard, eager, and skillful, and wave after wave of sensation and emotion washed over me as the embrace deepened.