Protecting His Assets (15 page)

April was completely out of her element, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise any longer. This place, these people…it wasn’t her. Champagne and dancing, dresses and small talk. Life with her rough and tumble father in a dusty boxing club hadn’t prepared her for this. Of all the disgusting things Jeremy had said about her to his buddies, he’d been right about that.

She caught a glimpse of John across the room, looking completely inconspicuous.
That
was her. She lived on the sidelines of these people’s lives…and it was completely fine. She’d never wanted anything more.

Until now.

Is this really the kind of life she wanted?
No.
It wasn’t the fancy party or dressing up that made her heart race. It was
him
. Steve Nolan. Just
him
.

Despite his past, he walked through this stuck-up crowd like he owned it…and she had absolutely no doubt that before long, he would. It was easy to see that Nolan was destined for great things, and if she was going to spend any amount of time with him above and beyond the parameters of this particular assignment, these types of events were going to become a regular occurrence.

Good thing there was no chance of that happening.

She glanced over his shoulder. There were a few people milling about on the fringes of the dance floor. One guy wearing a trench coat who turned away before she could catch a glimpse of his face, a couple who swayed to the music as if they were seconds away from joining in the dancing, too, and others who were more interested in the conversation than the music.

Thank God, nobody seemed to care what she and Nolan were doing. Her colleagues watching on the sidelines already knew that her cover was as Nolan’s date for the night, so she wouldn’t have to worry they would think she was acting unprofessional…even if she totally was.

But since it was clearer than ever that what they had between them was short-lived, she wanted to live every moment of it to the fullest.

He tipped her chin again, silently demanding her full attention, daring her to leave doubt and insecurities at the door.

She nodded. “Let’s hope you’re Fred Astaire, because that’s the only way we’re going to look good out on this dance floor.” She smiled nervously.

His gaze flared. “You’re irresistible. You could stand here without moving a muscle and every guy in this place would still want to cut in on me…but I’m not going to let them,” he promised.

His arm curled around her waist. Instead of holding their clasped hands out at arm’s length, he tucked them up against his chest and pulled her closer so their bodies were in continual contact all the way down to her thighs. Anticipation and desire coursed through her veins, warming her from her fingertips to her toes.

He grinned. “What is it?” she asked.

He bent forward and whispered in her ear, “Don’t look now, but you’re dancing.”

It was true. She’d been caught by the intent look in his eyes for the last several minutes and hadn’t even realized that he was slowly but expertly guiding her across the floor. Her hand rested on his arm, and he covered her fingers with his and tucked her other hand against his chest as they moved together. His heartbeat was strong and steady, calming her nervousness but heightening her awareness of him.

God, he was hot—the kind of hot that melted her bones and left her overwhelmed and dizzy with need. He made her feel graceful, feminine, and desired. She swayed, letting the music penetrate deeper until the moment extended into forever and there was nothing between them but anticipation and promise. It was intoxicating, like sultry tendrils of delicate smoke that weaved around their legs and pulled them closer.

The music changed, and she realized there were quite a few more people on the floor with them now. She glanced over Nolan’s shoulder, something was twinging her instincts. She sharpened her gaze but Nolan noticed what she was doing and chuckled. “You can’t clock out for even one evening, can you?”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I just have to—”

“It’s okay. I kind of like that you’re so committed to your work. After all,
I
am your work.”

If she was
really
committed, she wouldn’t be here pretending to be someone she wasn’t, a part of her whispered. She’d be dressed in her ugly suit, watching from the other side of the room while Nolan danced with someone else, maybe the leggy redhead from the restaurant, or the woman who’d called his cell phone while they were in the store, Meredith.

The song ended, and they stopped dancing, but he didn’t let her go, not immediately.

Her whole body hummed, and she forgot all about where they were, the clothes that made her feel like an imposter, and even her job. She drowned in the unspoken promises he made with his touch and his gaze, sliding her hands up the lapels of his jacket and around the nape of his neck almost against her will.

His eyes sparkled as he moved to guide her off the dance floor, his smoldering attention fixed on her to the exclusion of all else.

It happened so fast. A movement out of the corner of her eye as she looked up at Nolan, a figure on an intercept course with them as they departed the dance floor. Trench coat. She’d noticed him earlier, but now she was seeing him from the front instead of the back. It was the same man who’d been watching them through the storefront window, the same man from the hotel surveillance video.

He was fixated on Nolan and pushed his way through the few people between them. When he stuffed his hand in his pocket, she reacted instinctively, throwing herself in front of Nolan. Her ankle twisted in her heels, and she slipped across the glossy marble floor. She held on to her balance with a grimace and yelled for backup.

Nolan didn’t drop back behind her. He tried to get around her, his face a mask of fury as he locked onto the man still advancing toward them.

“Nolan!” the man called out. He sounded frantic and desperate, and a desperate man wasn’t someone she wanted anywhere near her client.

She grabbed Nolan’s forearm. “Come on!” A crowd gathered even as trench coat man was taken down, and she yanked Nolan out of the fray, nudging him in front of her as she directed them out of the museum. Even at the main doors, she could hear the man still yelling after them.

“Where are we going?” Nolan snapped.

“John and his crew can handle things back there. You’re
my
responsibility, and I have to get you out of here.”

He tugged back. “What about my mother?”

April tapped the mic in her ear and asked Nora, who quickly filled her in. “My guy is still with her. She’s absolutely safe.” She turned back to him and added, “And the assailant is already in custody. My boss is in cooperation with the police—already en route—and we’ll have some answers as soon as possible.”

They reached the car. Obviously, there was a different driver waiting for them because John was inside the museum, but she recognized him, and so she pushed Nolan into the backseat while he returned to the driver’s side door.

“If the situation is in hand, why are we leaving? I need to find out who that is and why the hell he’s been attacking me.”

She followed Nolan into the car and shut the door. “Drive,” she called and tapped on the glass separating the front and back seats. “I’m sorry, but we’re staying out of the way. I can’t take the chance that this incident might have been a setup.”

He frowned and glanced out the window. The city lights on the other side were softened by the tinted glass. “You think this could have been a diversion, so yet
another
attacker could get close to me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t actually think that’s what was going on. But it wouldn’t be the first time, and standard procedure dictates that in the case of a threat to your safety, I get you out immediately, no matter what.”

He sighed and collapsed back into the seat. She’d been expecting more of an argument. “Nolan?”

He glanced up and shook his head. “I understand. You’re right. I just hope I didn’t make your job any harder. I guess I can wait a few more hours to get those answers.”

She settled into the soft leather beside him. She let out a sigh and put a hand on his arm. “That was the first time I’ve had to evacuate one of my charges from a compromised location,” she admitted. The adrenaline still had her revved up, and she didn’t know what to do about it. “No matter how much training you get, you can never really know how you’re going to react when a situation like that actually happens. I think it’s a good thing I found out with you.”

His frown only deepened. He took her hand and interlaced their fingers together. “I don’t know if I like the idea of you being in more situations like that.”

She tensed and looked down at their joined hands for a long moment. Unable to speak above a whisper, she said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded suspiciously like—”

“Like someone who cares about you,” he finished.

She sucked in a hiss as he cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her, stealing her breath away along with all the carefully constructed safeguards she’d put in place to keep from falling for him completely.

Her heart was thumping so hard she could hear the echo of it in her ears, feel it all the way down to her toes. His mouth opened over hers, hot and daring and wild. Growing up the way she had, she was no stranger to guys who liked to think they were dangerous. But none of them had been as dangerous as Steve Nolan. And it wasn’t his muscles or his attitude—of which he had plenty of both. No, it was what he represented: ambition, power, success. All the things she would never have, all the things that would propel him further away from her over time.

Which is exactly why she’d put those safeguards in place.

And it was exactly the reason they were always destined to fail.

He pulled her across the seat onto his lap. Her skirt rode up to the tops of her thighs but she didn’t care. That only made it easier to throw her leg over his so she was straddling him. It might already be too late for her to come out of this thing at the end of it with her heart intact, but that didn’t mean she was going to walk out on the experience altogether. It was too late for that, too.

“Where’s your microphone?” he asked in a low voice.

She blinked. The mic? Why did he—

“Can they hear us? Do you
want
them to hear us? Because I could go either way, but I assume…”

Oh. Heat flooded her cheeks. She leaned back enough to reach into the bodice of her dress and remove the small watch battery-shaped mic pinned to the lacy strap of her bra while he watched with a look that said he was eager to get in there himself. She dropped it into her clutch.

“The earpiece?” he asked, pushing the hair back behind her ear, making her blush.

She shook her head. “I can’t take that off until you’re safely back at home with guards posted at the entrances, but I’m not getting any chatter over the line. We’re quiet on the channel unless there’s a reason not to be.”

He nodded and reached for her again. If she’d thought his kiss was devastating to her senses before, now he shattered her. She curled her arms around his neck and held on tight, shuddering as his hands worked up to the knot in her hair, and his tongue swept her mouth.

She tipped her head slightly. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Not here.” They still had to leave this car and make it to his apartment. She knew it was only an illusion of control, the semblance of propriety, but…

He seemed to understand and left her hair alone. “Jesus, you taste good,” he murmured, licking her lips like she was his favorite flavor of ice cream cone. “Like cinnamon and honey and sex.”

His hands moved down her back until he spread them over the round cheeks of her ass.

“And just how do I taste like sex?” she asked. Now she was imagining how she
could
taste like sex. It would involve slipping down to her knees between his legs, pulling his zipper down and freeing his cock so she could run her tongue up and down the length of him before sucking him hard and taking him as deep into her mouth as he would fit. Then, afterward, he’d pull her back up to kiss her, and—

“You’re warm and wet and sweet, and you suck on my tongue like you never want to let me go.” He kissed her again, and when he drew away she followed with a whimper. “Sex, baby. Pure sex. And I can’t get enough of it.”

She clenched her eyes shut with a groan and let her head fall back. She arched her hips, trying to press her core against him. His lips found the pulse point thrumming madly in her neck, making her gasp with delight, and he slid his hands up her legs from her knees. He found the lace trim at the top of her stockings first and traced it all the way around.

Slowly. Oh so slowly.

Her brain turned to mush when he got to the inside of her thighs, only to make his way back to the clasps of her garters. He flicked them off and kept running his hands up right under the hem of her dress, over her thighs and hips until they circled her waist.

When his finger slipped beneath the string of her thong against her tailbone and followed it down the crack of her ass, she gasped. And when he dipped into the moist heat between her spread legs from behind, she whimpered.

His mouth marked a trail along the cord of her neck, and he tugged both the straps of her dress and her bra off her shoulder to get access to more skin.

She bit her lip to keep from grinding against his fingers. Propriety? What was that? In the back of her mind—way in the back—a voice told her this was not the place to relinquish control. As if to prove it, the car slowed. She swore as she tore her mouth from his. Her pussy pulsed with need. Her breathing was ragged and short.

She glanced out the window. They’d turned onto his street. “We’ll be pulling into your building very shortly,” she murmured.

He dragged a thumb across her sensitive, bruised lips. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.

She nodded. “I’d planned—”

“Not because you think you
should
be there,” he clarified, “but because you want to be naked with me all night long.”