Under His Protection (3 page)

She laughed. “What, are you turning into my
father? Telling me what to do?”

“Ms. Hewitt, we need to talk.”

She halted at his words, at the way he
called her Ms. Hewitt. She hated that. It was so formal and she
much preferred hearing that low, melting voice say her name. “What
do we need to talk about?”

“Your father. He’s concerned.”

Right. She knew that. Her father didn’t want
her doing any more so-called humiliating things to ruin his
career.

Blake frowned. She so didn’t need to go
there. It would only hurt too much.

“I’m sure he’s very concerned.” She shook
her head, yanked the key ring from her purse and hit the keyless
remote. Her car beeped and the headlights flashed once, letting her
know it unlocked. “I appreciate your concern as well, Mason. But
I’ll be fine.”

His mouth went tight, that extremely sexy
mouth. It was right up there in her fantasies too. She could only
imagine being kissed by him. His lips pressed against the base of
her throat, sliding across her skin, wrapping around one hard
nipple and then the other, sucking and licking and...

Another, more pronounced shiver moved
through her and she tried to focus.

“I don’t know the full details yet but
there’ve been—threats made since the article broke.”

She stopped in front of her car and turned
to cast a skeptical glance in Mason’s direction. Crossing her arms
in front of her, she waited for him to finish.

He didn’t. He just stood there watching
her.

“Threats? Like against my life? You’ve got
to be kidding me.”

“I’m not.” He shook his head, his expression
grim. “We’re meeting in a half hour to discuss it.”

“Discuss me?” When he nodded, she rested her
hands on her hips, indignation flowing through her. “Take off those
damn sunglasses, Russell.”

He did as she asked, always seeming to move
into action when someone used his last name. Probably the military
part of him still shining through. He whipped those glasses off
with a quick flick of his wrist, and she drew in a sharp
breath.

Goodness, he was handsome. It hit her like a
punch in the stomach every time he trained that intense green stare
on her.

“You’re telling me the truth. There have
been threats regarding
my life
since I appeared in that
stupid magazine.”

He nodded again, his mouth still grim though
at least now she could look him in the eye. And look him in the eye
she did, savoring every blessed moment of it too. His gaze wandered
over her face, then lower, lower still. Making her want to ask
exactly what he was looking at.

But she held herself in check. Thrust her
chest out a little to give him a better view.

“What kind of threats?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll find out.” She knew
without a doubt he spoke the truth.

And then he did the unthinkable. A move so
unlike the Mason Russell she knew, she wasn’t sure if she should be
shocked, offended or read more into his actions.

He touched her, pressed his warm, strong
fingers against her forearm for the quickest moment, his touch
burning through the layers of her clothing. Her skin tingled from
the too-brief contact.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he
added quietly.

I’ll take care of you.
Such lovely
words with such a sexy promise, spoken by the one man who often
chose not to speak at all. Those words should’ve reassured her,
made her feel secure, but she couldn’t help the slow warmth
suffusing her veins, washing over her skin.

Arousal. Want. Ridiculous, but there it was.
Waiting to be confronted, simmering between them as it had for
months. He denied it, she denied it, but damn it, she was so tired
of pretending.

“I’m not worried.” She sounded breathless,
even to her own ears. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

A muscle in Mason’s jaw ticked. His
expression remained serious, his gaze so intense she almost wanted
to look away. But she couldn’t. Every time he looked at her, it was
as if she became his sole focus. Like nothing else in the world
existed to him except her.

She liked it. Even though she was just his
job, she couldn’t help the thrilling jolt that moved through her
when all that intensity zeroed in on her.

“I have to go. Mitchell will escort you back
to your apartment.”

Blake rolled her eyes. When they’d first
been assigned to covering her, she’d gotten the two of them
confused. Russell and Mitchell, Mitchell and Russell, they sounded
like some sort of geeky singing duo.

But there was a definite difference between
the two men. Jerry Mitchell was middle-aged, with thinning hair, a
bit of a paunch and a loving wife with a couple of kids. Russell
was one hot piece of man flesh that tripped her trigger every time
she so much as looked at him.

Big,
huge
difference between
them.

“Why don’t
you
take me?” She couldn’t
help but flirt with him a little bit, just to see what he would
say, how he’d react.

“I can’t. I have the meeting regarding your
security. Remember?”

Right, her security and the threats made
against her. The idea of some freak wanting to hurt her was hard to
comprehend.

Watching him, she noticed his expression was
grim though she swore she caught a glimmer of lust in his beautiful
eyes as they drifted over her. Arousal kicked her swift and
hard.

Did he want her as much as she wanted him?
She’d unashamedly teased him for weeks, months, trying to entice
him with flirting glances, even flirtier words. Yet he always
watched her, reacted to her as if he were made of stone.

It had to be a front. The attraction that
grew between them was hard to ignore, though he did a stellar job
of it.

“So eager to get rid of me, Russell?” she
asked pointedly. Sometimes it felt that way.

“You’ll have me until January.”

Hmm, the words “have me” conjured up all
sorts of wicked images.

“Here comes Mitchell.” Mason flicked his
chin in his partner’s direction, and Blake turned to find Jerry
loping toward them, a goofy grin on his face.

He really was sweet. Though they never spoke
much, Jerry was always courteous, always flashed a friendly smile
when she looked his way. And he always talked about his wife and
kids. He really loved them, the emotion and pride was evident in
his voice.

It touched her. It also made her a little
envious. Did her father care that much about her or her mother? She
doubted it.

“Will you let me know what you find out?”
She took a step closer to Mason and breathed deep. His spicy scent
was something she would never grow tired of.

“Of course.”

She doubted he’d tell her anything, not
wanting to scare the hell out of her. Whatever. She deserved to
know what was going on.

She deserved to know if her life was truly
in danger.

* * * *

“So you’re telling me it’s easier to push
Blake Hewitt out of DC rather than allow her to remain here through
the end of the campaign?” Indignation surged through Mason, making
his blood boil.

Unbelievable. Did any of them realize she
was an actual human being with thoughts and feelings? She wasn’t a
rebellious teen set to destroy her father’s image. She’d made a
simple mistake.

And her father wanted to banish her rather
than deal with it.

“Frankly, yes, it is easier. Her father’s
worried. He’d rather not have the distraction.” His superior Byron
McLane sat across from him, a determined expression on his face. He
was going by his orders, Mason knew this, but it still frustrated
him.

Not a one of them seemed to give a shit
about Blake, not even her father.

The only exception was him. And he couldn’t
begin to explain why he cared.

Oh, you know why you care. You’re hot for
her.

He ignored the taunting voice in his
brain.

“My daughter doesn’t have any restraint. She
believes everyone is her friend when they’re most definitely not.
She’s a liability, both to herself and me. I can’t worry about her
while focusing on the campaign. I just can’t.” James Hewitt sat at
the head of the table, his fingers steepled in front of him as he
contemplated all of them over the top of his reading glasses. “The
election is in three weeks. I want her gone.”

Only a few hours ago, more never-before-seen
bikini photos had been splashed across the gossip blogs, reigniting
Hewitt’s fury. Mason felt like he’d failed at his job. Even worse?
He’d failed Blake in his promise to protect her.

Yet another copy of that damn magazine had
found its way to the middle of the table, Blake’s smiling, scantily
clad image gazing up at him. His cock gave a tiny twitch of
interest and he wanted to growl aloud.

Down boy.
It wouldn’t do to sport a
boner in the middle of a meeting surrounded by all men, especially
Blake’s father.

“I’ll keep an even closer watch over Miss
Hewitt. We’ll start pulling longer shifts, Mitchell and I. Between
the two of us, she’ll never be alone,” Mason suggested.

“That doesn’t seem to matter and you know
it. She manages to find trouble regardless. Image is everything,
you know this. Considering how well-connected everyone is with
social media, one wrong move on Blake’s part and it’s splashed
across the Internet in seconds,” Byron explained.

“It’s best if she’s clear across the
country, at our home on Whitney Island,” Hewitt added. “It’s a
small community and completely isolated. No way could she find any
trouble there.”

“I suppose Mitchell and I will be on detail
in California then.” Damn it, Mason didn’t want to leave. He was
working toward a promotion, aspiring to a coveted White House
assignment. How the hell could he impress anyone if he was stuck on
a remote island off the coast of Northern California?

“You don’t have a choice, Russell. She’s
part of your detail.” Byron sent him a death glare. “And
considering Mitchell has some personal matters to attend to, I’m
assigning you and only you for the job of keeping tabs on Blake
while on Whitney Island. We’ll keep Mitchell here on light campaign
duty until it’s over.”

Mason fumed silently. Great. All alone with
Blake on a tiny island, that sounded like absolute torture—or pure,
out of control pleasure, if he gave into the urges that haunted him
constantly.

And that was the major problem. He lusted
for her, wanted nothing more than to sink his cock deep inside her
sexy little body and lose himself completely. But he couldn’t. It
was his job to protect her, not fuck her. No matter how badly he
wanted to.

“I want her out of the city by morning. No
later.” Hewitt pushed his chair back and stood, everyone else
rising with him.

“Yes, sir.” Mason reluctantly stood, kept
his gaze downcast. He’d just been curtly dismissed, sent on the
most torturous assignment yet.

Three weeks on a lightly populated island
with a woman who haunted his dreams at night and his thoughts
throughout the day. All by himself.

His every dream and nightmare come to
life.

“Why did you do that?” Byron asked the
second Hewitt and his cronies left the room.

Mason shrugged. “Do what?”

“Argue with the vice president. You’re
looking for a promotion. That’s not the way to go about it and you
know it.” Byron shook his head. “Since when do you care so much
about his daughter anyway? I thought she drove you crazy.”

Crazy with lust, not that he’d ever admit
it. “No one gives a shit about her, especially her father.”

“Yeah well, it’s not your job to give a shit
about her either, beyond keeping her out of trouble.”

Harsh. “What the hell is Mitchell up to
anyway that he can’t come with me?”

“Wife’s getting an operation. He’ll be
taking some time off while she recovers but it won’t be long. Some
outpatient procedure. Then he’ll be on part-time duty for the
remainder of the campaign,” Byron explained.

Lucky bastard.

“Getting her out of here is the right thing,
Russell. Trust me on this. We don’t need any trouble. It’s not
looking good right now, you know. We’ll have a new regime in here
come January, I feel it in my gut.” Byron shook his head. “In the
meanwhile, we need to make them happy. And Hewitt will be happiest
when his daughter’s out of his hair.”

“She’s not the pain in the ass he makes her
out to be,” Mason muttered. Why the hell he couldn’t stop defending
Blake, he didn’t know.

“Not according to her father.” Byron jabbed
a finger close to Mason’s chest. “You need to get your shit
together and get her the hell out of here.”

Right. He hadn’t had a day off in a week and
could really use a break. He wondered if he even had any friends
anymore beyond work acquaintances. It had been a long time since
he’d done something socially, let alone go out on an actual date.
Women had become a thing of the past and not necessarily by
choice.

“Can’t send anyone else with me?” he asked
hopefully.

“Nope, it’s just you.”

Having Jerry—hell, anyone with him would’ve
been the buffer he needed between Blake. The idea of going it alone
scared the hell out of him.

He wasn’t sure he could trust himself. That
was a hard fact to take.

“Don’t fall for her flirtation tactics
either. That’s what sent the other guy packing. And I don’t think
you’re willing to lose your job over a hot piece of ass. Am I
right?”

Anger surged through Mason and he clenched
his fists at his sides. It was one thing to irritate his superior.
It was another thing entirely to be tempted to punch his face
in.

He needed to get a grip.

“That’s the biggest problem with Blake
Hewitt. She’s beautiful and sexy and it’s like she doesn’t even
know it,” Byron continued, not even noticing the dark look on
Mason’s face. “Men look at her and immediately picture undressing
her. She’s not necessarily the wholesome, good Republican daughter
image Hewitt wants to portray, no matter how hard he tries. She
questions his political party’s issues despite working for him on
the campaign trail. Most of his staff wishes Hewitt would’ve canned
her a long time ago.”