Defended & Desired (4 page)

Trey operated a bodyguard business—he could sure as hell protect her himself. He’d failed to save his dad. He wouldn’t fail a second time to defend someone who needed him.

He glanced at his watch. “When should I be at your place?”

“Whoa, easy there tiger. This kind of thing takes time.”

“The sooner we drag him out of his geek hole and into the open, the better.”

She rubbed her temples. “I guess I could have my home system ready to trace him by tomorrow night.”

“Do you need tomorrow off? Consider it done.”

She set her hands on her hips. “I’m up to my eyeballs in support tickets that need to be addressed before the weekend. A Friday off isn’t happening anytime soon.”

“Let me know if you need my help.” Protective concern clenched in his gut. “I mean it. Anything.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“I can handle myself,” she murmured, her gaze softening at his touch. When she leaned in, he couldn’t resist tracing the edge of her lower lip with his thumb. Her breath quickened. Her lips parted. He edged closer, needing to taste her, needing to—

She froze, blinked, and retreated. With regret, Trey let his hand fall to his side. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then.”

“Sure.” She lifted a shoulder as if she didn’t care one way or another.

He wondered why she pretended their mutual attraction didn’t ping-pong in the air between them whenever they were in a room together. The way she couldn’t meet his eyes was a dead giveaway. For a woman so in control, she wore her emotions surprisingly close to the surface. At least around him. From the looks of it, maybe he
had
affected her. The notion gave him a shot of encouragement. Being in close quarters at her house all evening on a Friday night resembled a date. Maybe the closest he’d get to one without asking her and giving her the chance refuse him.

When it came to Devon, he wouldn’t be denied.

*

Devon cringed as sticky little hands clung to her skirt.

“Up!
Up!” Sammy hollered with a popsicle-stained grin.

Devon scooped up her friend Allison’s baby boy, who patted her cheeks and blew her a kiss. She melted under his innocent charm. “If you’re trying to win me over, kiddo, you already succeeded. The day you were born.”

“Hang on, Devon. I’ll be right there,” Allison promised from across the kitchen, then continued her distracted phone call with a caterer.

Devon carried Sammy from the kitchen to the sprawling great room. She glanced at the toys scattered on the floor, wondering what to do with him. She’d been an only child and had few interactions with small children. She was terrified that if she accidentally dropped him, he’d break.

Bouncing Sammy against her hip, she went to the two-story windows that overlooked the Stone family’s beautifully manicured acreage. Their new in-ground pool was nearly complete, just in time for the hottest days of summer. She pointed at the birds winging from branch to branch in the Japanese maple tree. “Can you say Blue Jay?”

“Boo. Boo-da. Boo-day,” he mimicked.

“Not bad.” She tapped his nose and smiled. She couldn’t believe he’d turned a year old already. He was getting big, she realized, shifting his weight to her other hip. “Who said you could grow up so fast?”

He babbled and squirmed, so she took a seat on the large wrap-around couch at the center of the room. She perched him on her knee.

That lasted about three seconds.

Sammy squirmed and squealed. Devon gave up her attempt to hold him still. The second his toes touched the floor he was off and running like a miniature daredevil.

Allison ended her call and intercepted Sammy before he reached Devon’s purse in the foyer. “Sorry about that. Next weekend is Logan’s birthday, and I’ve been trying to work out the menu and delivery time with the caterer.”

“You could always bake a pie.” Devon grinned, recalling her friend’s Thanksgiving blunder that nearly ended in a call to the fire department. “Just make sure Sammy’s out of the house first.”

“Thanks.” Allison narrowed her eyes. “You’re all heart.”

“Just trying to help.”

“Yeah, right.” Allison cracked a smile. She plopped Sammy down on the floor, sat cross-legged beside him, and handed him plastic shapes to fit into a box with matching holes. “I haven’t seen you in ages, I’m glad you came by. You said you have news.”

“So did you.”

“You go first,” Allison insisted. “I need a few minutes to collect my scattered brain cells. Maybe then I can have a coherent adult conversation.”

When Sammy tossed several plastic shapes across the room and then crawled around to retrieve them, Devon snorted. “Never a dull moment.”

“Not a single one. Though I do miss them occasionally.” Allison gave her a verbal nudge. “So?”

“Well, the opportunity came out of the blue,” Devon admitted.
“A recruiter called me several months ago, wondering if I’d be interested in a position at ActionNet. It’s a well-respected company that produces some of the most popular online PvP games in the industry.”

“Explain in non-tech speak, please.” Allison followed Sammy to another spot on the floor and helped him stack alphabet blocks.

“Player versus player, involving elaborate gaming scenarios. They have a position open for Director of Development. It’s a little out of my realm of experience, but they said they’ve been interested in my career and skill set for some time. They want me to join their company.”

“That’s exciting.” Allison sat forward. “What did you tell them?”

“I had an initial interview three weeks ago, and it went well.” Maybe
well
was an understatement. She’d nailed the interview, had great rapport with both owners, and the opportunity seemed too good to pass up. They’d all but offered her the position, and she believed they would make the offer concrete when she met with them again. “They called me to set up a second interview sometime in the next week or so, but I’ve been so crazy with the servers going down, I didn’t have a chance to check my schedule and set a firm date to meet with them.”

“Does Trey Soren know about this?”

Devon shook her head. “No, I didn’t mention anything to him, and I realize Soren Security needs me.” More than ever since the hacker struck.
“Lately, though, I’ve had this itch to leave the corporate world. I’m thirty-three. I’ve busted my butt for ten years, living and breathing my work. Part of me is desperate to slow down, to reconsider where I see myself in the future.”

Allison cocked her head. “Your version of slowing down is multitasking ten things instead of twenty. You thrive when things are hectic.”

“I know,” Devon admitted. “But it would be nice to infuse more creativity into my work. To have a say in products that go directly to consumers who have the same interests as I do. Compare that to the work I do now, completely behind the scenes where nobody understands or realizes how I impact their world.”

“Makes sense. I can see the appeal.”

“I want to be part of something people actually enjoy. Sure, I love the challenge of this job, but it gets tedious after a while. I want a little more fun and a little less stress.”

Allison grinned. “You could try dating. That’ll give you more excitement.”

Devon crossed her arms. “Considering what happened last time, I think I’ll pass.”

“You deserve to find happiness in a good relationship,” Allison encouraged gently. “One recent bad experience can’t take you off the market forever.”

“Not forever. Just for now.”

“You’ve been saying that for over a year.”

Devon retreated behind defensiveness. “It’s amazing how going on an innocent date with a man who tells you everything you want to hear—then drugs you and ties you up in the back of a van—shatters your faith.”

“I’m so sorry, Devon.” Allison’s expression of guilt and pain struck Devon through the heart. Allison didn’t deserve any blame. She couldn’t have known her psychotic ex-husband would use Devon to get to her. Trevor had blindsided them both with his cruelty and obsession with Allison. “I guess I feel responsible for what happened. I’m also your friend, and I want so much for you to find what I’ve found with Logan.”

“Talking about me again?” Logan asked as he strolled from the hallway into the cavernous room. His light brown eyes glinted with amusement. Droplets from his damp hair dripped onto his white t-shirt. A towel draped around his hips.

Devon shook her head, amused rather than embarrassed, because Logan was like a big brother to her. “You left your modesty in the shower.”

He scratched his head. “Yeah, well, I seem to have misplaced my—”

Sammy howled with abandon as he took an uncoordinated swan-dive off the back of the couch onto the cushions. Caught up in conversation, she hadn’t even realized Sammy had disappeared. Then Sammy wiggled off the couch and ran pell-mell toward Logan with a suspicious garment attached to his head.

Allison gasped. “Logan, is that your underwear?”

Devon let out a burst of laughter.

Logan shrugged. “Well, that answers my question. I’ve found what I was looking for. Come here, little man.”

Allison covered her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing. At least they’re just boxers.”

“Yeah, my Speedo was in the wash.” Logan winked at his wife. He scooped up his son and held him like a football. Sammy squealed with laughter. “You think that’s funny, huh, bud?” Logan plucked the underwear off his kid’s head. He said to Devon, “We’re hoping therapy will prevent him from riding the short bus later in life.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Charming, Logan.”

“C’mon, buddy, we’ll let the ladies finish their conversation in peace.” Logan carted Sammy off down the hallway, blowing raspberries against his son’s bare belly. The boy’s joyous giggles echoed through the house. Such a happy child.
So completely loved.

Devon’s heart gave a tiny flutter of longing. Dampness pricked her eyes, and she blinked it away.

Strange how the desire she’d let go of so long ago seeped back in to her soul when she least expected it. Years ago, she’d set aside the traditional image of a husband and children as though putting a nostalgic picture facedown in a drawer and shutting it away. At twenty-three, she had emergency abdominal surgery that saved her life—and left her without a hope in hell of ever conceiving a child. She’d absorbed that, grieved, made her peace with reality, and promptly dove into her professional life. Now her projects were her babies. Most days that was enough.

But for most men, it wasn’t.

“What about Trey?”

Devon froze. Then she forced herself to act nonchalant, though she couldn’t look Allison in the eye. “What about him?”

“Are you really going to sit here and pretend your boss isn’t hot?”

Devon lifted her eyebrows. “Good thing Logan’s not in the room.”

Allison flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and came to sit beside Devon on the couch. “A fact’s a fact. Trey is a good friend of Logan’s. He’s a great person. A genuinely decent guy.”

Exactly the type Devon didn’t believe existed. Her experiences with men hadn’t been stellar, her choices and judgment clearly flawed.

“I know him well enough to say, without hesitation, he’s safe.”

Devon sighed. “That would be nice for a change.”

Then again, while she agreed he was trustworthy, he was
not
safe for her deprived libido. The way he’d kissed her in the server room, and the way he’d stared at her lips ever since, had prompted some ultra sexy late-night fantasies. While she was tired of fantasizing, and of her vibrator for that matter, becoming involved with Trey could be a hazardous mistake. He was her boss, and besides, she might not be in Denver much longer if her upcoming second interview went as well as the first.

Allison gave her shoulder a squeeze, then returned to the carpet and started picking up Sammy’s toys, tossing them into a red bin. “Like I said, Trey’s a good guy, solid. Logan met him ten years ago. During one of Logan’s last covert-ops missions, a man on his team was killed in the crossfire.”

Devon winced. “I’m sorry to hear that. Logan rarely talked about his time in the Army Rangers, before Stone Security.”

Allison nodded, but said nothing further about the incident. She picked up several more of Sammy’s toys and continued, “Logan traveled back to the states with the casket to contact the man’s family. The only address he had led him to a group of bounty hunters in Las Vegas.”

“Makes sense,” Devon said. Since it had never come up in conversation, she made a mental note to ask Trey how in the world he went from running a bounty hunter operation to owning a billion dollar bodyguard business. He was a fascinating man, and she’d barely scratched his surface.

“The Sorens were the closest thing to family that Logan’s guy had. Trey worked hard, with Logan’s help, to create a memorial to honor their fallen brother. Trey bought the cemetery plot and basically paid for everything, no expense spared. Logan even teared up a little telling me the story.” The wistfulness on Allison’s face showed her respect and reverence for her husband. “If I’m not mistaken,” she added thoughtfully, “Trey’s bounty hunter business inspired Logan to hire his former military friends and begin his security system and bodyguard businesses.”