Rough Edges (3 page)

Bella's jaw tightened in anger, but the rest of her body was loose and relaxed—just like she always was before a fight. “I didn't see the problem. Uncle Sam's poster boy here did.” She hooked a thumb toward Victor.

The man's bushy eyebrows lifted in a show of surprise. “Good eye. Bella assign you to a team yet? We could always use a man with a brain.”

“He's spoken for,” she said before Victor could say a word.

The older man nodded in acceptance. “Fair enough. I'm taking the device to my place out in the country to dispose of it.”

“Have you gotten all the information from it you can?” she asked. “I'd really like to find the person who's trying to kill me before they succeed.”

“I'll do what I can before destroying it, but it's not the kind of thing we can have sitting around while the eggheads do their thing. That's a really good way to lose eggheads.”

“I understand,” she said. “I don't want you to risk your fingers doing anything unsafe. You're my man and I want you in one piece.”

“Yes, ma'am. We're of a mind there. I'll call you when I know more.” He got into his truck and pulled away slowly.

A minute later, Franklin and two other men came out of Bella's place, carrying the gear they'd toted in.

“We'll come back after the sun is up and do another sweep. Do you want me to stay here tonight and keep watch?” Franklin asked Bella.

“No. I got it.”

The young man's face turned red and he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “You know I can't let you back in the house until the boss gives the all clear, right?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her breasts upward in a mouthwatering display that made Victor squirm.

“
I'm
the boss, Franklin,” she reminded him.

“Yes, ma'am. You're my boss's boss and I respect that. But he promised me that he'd beat the everlovin' hell out of me if I let you go back in there. I'd really rather not have that happen.”

“Sugar, don't you think I'd do the same thing if you tried to keep me out of my own home?” she asked, almost sweetly.

Franklin's eyes widened. His ruddy skin went splotchy. He looked to the man next to him for support, but found none. He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped his lips shut.

Victor took pity on the poor kid and spoke up. “I'm sure she's just teasing,” he said. “Bella has no need to resort to violence. She knows you're only doing your job.”

She fixed Victor with a death ray stare. Her gray eyes narrowed, and he swore he could feel the heat of her anger blasting through his clothes. “I try to always reprimand in private, so you all should leave now. Victor and I need to talk.”

The men scurried off. She didn't spare them so much as a glance. As soon as they were on their way down the street, she got right into his face. “Don't you dare speak for me again. Ever.”

“You were scaring that poor kid half to death.”

“Good. Proves he has half a brain. You'd be smarter if you were a little scared, too.”

Victor tried not to scoff. Sure she was tough as nails and deadly in a fight, but he never once imagined she'd inflict violence that wasn't deserved.

Perhaps that was his mistake.

“You want to hurt me?” he asked, refusing to so much as blink under the force of her furious stare. “Go ahead and try. I dare you.”

“Tough talk.”

“We both know how it will end. You'll be on your back under me, pinned and panting, unable to move until I let you go.”

Her pupils flared so wide he was sure it had to have hurt. “You got lucky once. Doesn't mean it will happen again.”

“Anytime you want a rematch, I'm ready to go.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “I don't have time to waste on your petty pissing matches. I have a company to run.” She turned and headed for her truck only to realize it was locked and the keys were inside her house. “Shit.”

She looked at her front door as if she was actually considering going back in there.

No way was Victor going to let that happen.

“Come home with me so you can get some sleep. I know you're exhausted.”

She stared at him for a full ten seconds. He wasn't sure if she was deciding whether to accept his offer, or calming herself down enough to speak. Either way, he stood there, taking the heat of her gaze for as long as she needed to give it.

Finally, she said, “Take me to work.”

“You won't sleep at work.”

“I might. We have on-call rooms I could use.”

“I know you better than that. If you go to the office, you'll work. And if you don't get some sleep soon, you're going to start making bad decisions. We both know you can't afford to do that.”

“I know my limits. I haven't reached them yet.”

“And if a new lead comes up tomorrow, sending you on another two-week chase after Stynger or Gage with no time to sleep? What then? Will that be past your limit?”

She closed her eyes for a split second, but it was long enough for Victor to see the dark stain that fatigue had left beneath her eyes, as well as the slight wilting of her slender frame. “I don't suppose you'd front me the cash for a hotel room, would you? My purse is inside.”

He wanted her in his space, in his home. He knew that having her in his domain would change nothing between them, but the urge to drag her to his lair by her hair was clearly still encoded somewhere in his DNA. “When I have a perfectly good guest room available? Are you that afraid of me, Bella?”

She snorted. “Afraid of you? Hardly.”

“Then what's the problem? We've slept in close quarters for weeks now and I haven't groped you in your sleep. I'm not about to start now, considering how exhausted I am.”

Her gray eyes darkened to a deep slate color. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in, and the tip of her tongue grazed across her bottom lip, leaving a wet trail he ached to taste.

“If exhaustion is the only thing making you mind your manners, then we have a problem,” she said. “I think I should get that hotel room.”

“I'll be good. My mother trained me to be completely civilized.” Or at least give one hell of a good performance. Not that Bella needed to know that part. Better she think he was a good lapdog, rather than the rabid pit bull straining at his chain in an effort to reach her.

Bella wasn't his type. He had to remember that, despite the fact that his body disagreed. She came from a different world than he did. She wasn't the kind of woman who fit into his carefully planned future. There was nothing refined or genteel about her.

Which only made him want her more.

“Fine,” she finally said in utter exhaustion. “Take me home. But if you so much as step one foot inside your guest room while I'm there, honey, I'll break your kneecaps.”

For some reason Victor couldn't fathom, his cock twitched in excitement at her threat of violence.

He grinned. “I'd like to see you try.”

B
ella hated to admit it, but she liked Victor's home.

It was in a nice part of town. Safe, but not showy. The house was beautifully built, but not huge. She knew he could afford way more, but apparently felt no need to do so.

Everything was done in calming neutral tones. The furnishings were of high quality, but didn't have the ostentatiousness she'd come to expect from the ridiculously wealthy.

There was no clutter or dust. No dishes in his sink. Everything about the place was appealing, all the way down to the large gun safe he'd installed where a wine cellar had previously been.

“Your room is in here,” he said, opening a door on the opposite side of the house from the master suite. “The bathroom is stocked with all the basics. If you need anything else, just ask.”

The guest room was done in soothing greens and blues. One step onto the soft carpet made her worry that she might sink in all the way to the foundation. A giant bed sat in the center of the space, its covers turned down on one corner in welcome. She wanted to sink into its pillowy depths so bad, she nearly groaned in need.

“This is beautiful. Thank you.” She turned in time to catch him staring at her. “What?”

“Just adjusting to the idea of you being in my home.”

Now she felt like a charity case. “I really don't want to intrude. I'll just call a cab to take me to work.” She was in the act of dialing her cell phone when he covered her hand with his.

“I didn't mean that in a bad way. I'm glad you're here.”

“Why in the world does an inconvenience make you glad?”

“I like knowing you're safe. When you're under my roof, I can be certain that's the case.”

She didn't know what to say to that. She wasn't used to men worrying about her—not even the ones who knew and understood what she did for a living. They all knew she could take care of herself, which made her wonder if Victor thought less of her abilities, or if he simply cared more.

“You know I can take care of myself,” she reminded him.

“Better than almost anyone I know,” he agreed. “But someone is out to hurt you, and no one is invulnerable to a bullet from a well-trained sniper. Not even you.”

The idea gave her pause, and sent a trail of apprehension snaking up her spine. She felt the need to hide, like she used to do when Dan came at her and the fear set in. It took an effort of will to shrug off the need to pull her hands away from Victor's.

“Is your house sniper-proof?” she asked, half teasing.

“Metal shutters over bulletproof glass. Reinforced cement walls. Strategically designed landscaping that gives every advantage to us inside, and enough guns and ammo to wage a small war.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Now I know what a guy like you does with all that money.” And it was damn hot, too.

Victor grinned. “Get some sleep, Bella. I'm nearby if you need me.” Something about the way he said it made her think he was hoping she would need him.

She clenched her thighs together to ward off the most pressing need she had for a man like him.

He shut the door to her room, leaving her alone.

Normally she enjoyed time to herself. She spent so much of her life working with clients and employees that she could go for days without any time alone. But now, standing on the plush carpet of Victor's guest room, surrounded by beautiful things, all she wanted was to trail after him so she wouldn't feel so damn lonely.

Not going to happen, so time to suck it up.

She turned and surveyed her surroundings. The space was too big. As safe as his house might be, there were too many places where a bad guy could hide.

The cozier bathroom on the far side of the room beckoned. She headed for it, closing the door behind herself.

The room was bigger than she'd first thought, with both a giant tub and a separate walk-in shower. There were two sprawling counters with sinks, and another at a lower height that she presumed was for putting on makeup.

All the surfaces in here were hard stone, glossy tile, or gleaming metal. The only softness she found were the thick rugs and fluffy towels waiting for use.

There was a closet on the other side of the bath. She went over, hoping for a smaller space she could burrow into and hide.

As soon as she realized what she was doing, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Bella didn't hide anymore. She didn't need to. Her husband was dead. She was strong. Deadly. No one could hurt her now.

She had no idea why the need to hide had come on so suddenly or was so strong, but she fought back, refusing to give in to the compulsion.

She was safe. Her only problem was her worry for Gage and not enough sleep or food for too many days.

That, and a raging case of lust for a man she couldn't let herself have.

Bella made use of the toothbrush and toiletries set out for her. Then she stripped down to her panties so her clothes wouldn't be a wrinkled mess when she went to work tomorrow morning. She slid into sheets so soft they had to have been woven from angelic spider silk. The cool brush of fabric against her skin made her shiver with delight, lighting up nerve endings everywhere. The sensation added to her lust, as did the knowledge that Victor lay only a few yards from where she did.

As need crawled through her system, she ran her hands over her skin, pretending that the hands that touched her were bigger and rougher. Victor's face formed in her mind as clear as if he'd been lying beside her.

The thought gave her a naughty thrill as she drew her fingers over her abdomen and lower to glide beneath her panties.

She was wet. Hot. She needed relief so bad it made every muscle in her body tense.

There was no sleeping with this kind of lust clawing at her, so she did the only practical thing she could do and began working herself toward orgasm. Even one would be enough to ease her.

Victor's image was with her the whole time. It was his hand that stroked her, his fingers that toyed with her nipples. When her climax washed over her, it was his name she cried out.

Finally, her body relaxed and let go of all the tension it had been hoarding. As she drifted off to sleep, she was almost certain that she could smell his scent filling the air.

*   *   *

Victor knew the sound of a woman's orgasm when he heard it. But he'd never expected to hear that lovely noise come out of Bella Bayne.

Especially not calling out his name.

He let his hand fall from where he'd been about to knock on her door. He still hadn't fed her yet, and in all the excitement, he hadn't realized it until his own stomach reminded him.

There was no way he was knocking now. His cock was hard enough to rip his fly open if he so much as breathed too deeply.

It was better to leave now, before he saw the flush of her arousal staining her cheeks, and forgot he couldn't fuck his boss. He didn't know how long he'd last before he gave in to his need to come, but he knew that when he did, he'd be remembering the sound of Bella calling his name.