Keep (Command #2) (6 page)

It was late afternoon outside and the interior of the plane was dark. In the dim light she studied his face. He looked younger asleep and less dangerous, and she found this version of him interesting. The hunter not on the prowl. She shut her eyes only for a moment and, when she opened them again, she realized she’d fallen asleep as well. A glass of what looked like white wine waited for her on the tray table.

Shawn was awake.

Crap.
He set his glass down and swiped a finger on the screen of his iPad, then picked up the glass again in the same hand. It struck her as weird. Why didn’t he use his left?

Holy crap.
Because her hand, closest to him, was on his leg… and he had his left hand resting comfortably on top of that. Their linked fingers shocked her. It felt much more intimate than when he’d moved his hand between her legs.

His fingers were long and curled slightly around hers. It felt natural. Not like he was smothering her, but encased her hand in connection. She couldn’t pull away, didn’t want to. It was unsettling how much she craved his touch.

“I did not put your hand on my leg,” he said, when he noticed what she was staring at.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She snatched her hand free and reached for her glass, the wine sloshing and threatening to spill.

He shrugged. “Your body knows what your brain won’t admit.”

“How long till we land?” she asked, ignoring his arrogance.

“Are you eager to take me home?”

She shot him a dirty look. “No, I was wondering how soon until I get to see you scared again.”

“I wasn’t scared, more like… uneasy.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling.”

He gave her a wicked smile. Which evaporated instantly when they hit turbulence and the plane dropped in an air pocket. She liked the feeling it created in her stomach, but she liked the other feeling she had right now even more: The upper hand. He
was
scared, or at least nervous, whereas she was calm and collected.

“I’m going to decline your offer for security, but thank you.” It wasn’t needed, and the idea of strangers watching over her… She liked her privacy. How on earth would she explain a bodyguard at the office? She hated that her sister had to put up with that, and it was just another reason to hate Juric.
Please let him be dead,
she thought.

The pair of brown eyes swung her direction and focused. “I’ll feel more comfortable with them in place. Why are you saying no? I want to do this.”

“What about what I want? I don’t like being told what to do, trust me.”

His face softened. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I don’t have any motive for installing the security team, other than to make sure you’re protected.”

“If that’s true,” she said, “and I allow it, then the team should report to Jason.”

The muscles along Shawn’s defined jawline flexed subtly, hinting at his displeasure. He liked control. “If I’m financing the team, they report to me.”

Her stomach clenched as the words began to form. Her family had lived paycheck to paycheck, struggling to afford Laurel’s dance lessons so she could pursue her dream of dancing professionally. Their family didn’t ask for money or handouts, even when they were desperate. The idea of it made her feel powerless.

Her voice faltered. “Then let Jason finance them.”

Shawn let out a tight laugh. “Where do you think Jason gets his money?” The second it was out, he looked like he wanted it back. “This is silly. You’re going to let me do this for you.” He straightened in his seat. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Other people didn’t get to make decisions for her. “I want to talk about this.”

A strong, firm hand was placed on her thigh, perhaps in an attempt to distract. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“Like hell it’s not.”

“Let me try that again. We’re not going to talk about it anymore.” His eyes went dark and his face was authoritative, serious. She inhaled sharply, stunned by this version of him. There was nothing playful. The look he gave her was threatening, dangerous… one that said he’d just issued a command that she would obey. Her eyes burned. She tore her gaze away from him to stare at the hand on her lap, as fire flared deep inside her. No one ordered her around. Not anymore.

“Get your hand off of me.”

He complied immediately like he sensed he’d pushed too far, but it was too late. She’d seen the true version of him now and there was no putting the genie back in the bottle.

“In fact, you don’t get to touch me again,” she snapped. “Ever.”

He took a deep breath. “Well then, that’s disappointing.” His gaze went forward. He picked up his iPad and scrolled back to his work, like nothing had happened between them. Like he couldn’t care less.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and all he’d done was walk away.

-4-

The rest of the flight was uneventful and Kara spent it wondering what the hell had happened. Shawn didn’t speak again. He also didn’t flinch when they hit one more patch of turbulence during the descent into Maastricht.

Had he decided she wasn’t worth it and given up? Maybe it was for the best. They were from different worlds. Her, the naïve American girl, who not too long ago was in grad school, getting drunk on Thursday nights when the beer was half-priced.

His
beer. From the enormous company he ran in Germany.

Once they’d landed it was night outside and they waited inside the lit cabin, the engines powering down with a mechanical whine. The on-duty immigration official boarded to check them in. Shawn produced two passports from his interior suit pocket, one navy blue that matched hers, and the other a deep red.
Deutschland.
The immigration official stamped their passports and welcomed them to the Netherlands, and then exited.

Shawn put his passports away, raked a hand through his dark hair, and set his attention on her. “Are you ready to go?”

Kara nodded. She didn’t live far from the airport, so the awkward tension between her and this man would be over soon.

“What are you doing?” she asked when they were outside and Shawn’s suitcase was pulled from the plane. He set a hand on it, indicating he was taking his luggage with him. Her stomach fluttered the same way it did when she received one of his text messages. “I said you could escort me home. I didn’t say a thing about you staying.”

He smirked. “I’d like to be prepared should that opportunity present itself.”

Her mouth went slack at his nerve. “You are unbelievable.”

“Yes.” His eyes gleamed with innuendo. “I’ve been told that.”

At what point would his arrogance stop shocking her? She looked around the tarmac, surprised not to see a car or limo waiting.

“How were you planning on getting home?” he said.

“I was going to walk.”

He nodded, tilting his bag onto its wheels as if ready to follow her.

“It’s twenty blocks,” she added.

He blinked, and a slow smile crept along his face. “You think because I’m rich, I can’t walk or am unwilling to use public transport?” Like he needed to remind her that he was wealthy, seeing as how they were standing beside his private jet. “I’m European. It’s you Americans who dislike walking.”

His bag looked heavier than hers. She said nothing. Instead she took off for the gate, dragging her suitcase along at as fast a clip as she could manage, challenging him to keep up. Doing everything she could to try to lose him.

Shawn was frustrated with himself. This wasn’t going how he’d hoped it would. As he pulled alongside Kara, she looked tired, like she was longing for a shower and a bed. Him too. But he longed for her even more and the feeling was powerful and intense. They needed to fuck and get it over with. Deal with their lust and dispel the sexual tension.

She had followed through on her threat. Shawn had set a hand on her elbow while they were waiting to cross a street and she’d jerked away. It was going to be much harder to convince her he should stay the night if he wasn’t allowed to touch.

Difficult. Not impossible.

Dragging their luggage over curbs and sidewalks through the bricked streets of Maastricht was rough, but she went as if it were no trouble. Most likely to spite him, and he could hardly blame her. His typical instinct to dominate had seized control and he’d let it go on too long. He’d spent the remainder of the flight thinking about how he was going to correct this.

Kara’s apartment was an older, three-storied brick building with a large white door. It had a generic look to it and he wondered if it was corporate housing for Incentive Systems.

“What is it you do for Incentive, specifically?”

“My title is project manager.” He gave her a look telling her that wasn’t much of an answer. She shrugged her shoulders. “They bring me in to diagnose problems and solve them in the most efficient way possible.”

He carried both of their bags up the few steps, through the main door and into a narrow hallway. She’d uttered a polite
thank you
, but stayed quiet as she went to the second door on the left. It was when she fished out her keys that he abruptly realized what was about to happen. She was going to go inside and shut the door in his face. He’d never been rejected when seducing a woman. The floor was unstable beneath him.

“Wait,” he said, putting a hand on her doorframe. And then he set his other on the wall just outside of her hip, trapping her with his arms. He left her with no choice but to put her back against the wall and face him. He didn’t want to move aggressively on her, but he needed to regain control of the situation.

“What?” Her voice was edged with annoyance.

The words weren’t that difficult to say because he meant them. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk about it inside.”

She gave him a dark look.

“Also,” he said, “you didn’t thank me.”

“Actually, I did, but thanks again for letting me use your plane so you could grope me at 20,000 feet.”

“Anytime.” He leaned in and she shifted away when his lips brushed hers.

“I’m pretty sure I said —”

He was only a breath away. “I haven’t touched you. Not with my hands.” He set his mouth on hers and heard the dull thump as the back of her head connected with the wall, trying to escape his kiss. It was only a few short seconds before her body betrayed her mind and she answered his kiss.

Yes.
He used every skill he’d cultivated over the years to convince her. There could only be one answer to the question he was going to ask momentarily. They were getting closer when she slipped a hand behind his head, her fingertips creeping into his hair. The rule was he couldn’t touch, but she was allowed to, apparently. Her tongue was in his mouth, and his hand against the wall balled into a fist, the knuckles pressing into the plaster since it couldn’t go elsewhere.

He couldn’t take any more when she drew his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down gently. The question was rising in his throat. He lifted his head, looking down at her and her kiss-swollen mouth —

“All you have to do,” she whispered, “is forget about the security detail and you can come inside.”

His breath left him in a burst.

He’d miscalculated. He’d thought he was working her up, making it impossible for her not to invite him in. But she’d played him spectacularly. He’d never been more turned on and pissed off than he was at that moment.

“Please,” he said. Well, there’s something he’d never done before.

She ducked under his arm and put the key in the lock. “
Auf Wiedersehen
, Shawn.”

If he weren’t so disoriented, he would have thought her accent was adorable. He watched her push the door open, flip on the light, and then halt.

Her apartment was in ruins. The couch was shredded, and pieces of foam were everywhere. Drawers had been pulled from the desk and entertainment center, the contents strewn around and smashed into pieces. Chunks of the wall were missing from where the curtain rods had once been.

“What… do I do?” Her voice told him exactly how shaken she was.