Under His Protection (6 page)

Ah, to hell with it. She quickly changed her
latte order to regular, requested extra whipped cream and handed
the barista a ten dollar bill with glee. If she got fat, who cared?
No one paid any attention to her anyway, certainly not Mason.

Irritation grated on her and she gave a
quick shake of her head. Why did it always come back to him? Why,
why, why?

Because you want him, that’s why.

She ignored the evil little voice in her
head. Its sole purpose was to make her feel bad, and it
accomplished that task most excellently.

Gathering her breakfast, Blake sat at a
small round table close to the window. She cut into her pastry with
a fork and popped a bite into her mouth, nearly moaning aloud at
the warm, cinnamon sweetness melting onto her tongue. Normalcy felt
good. It was a relief, being away from prying eyes, the flashing
cameras, the endless stream of political analysts wanting to spout
their opinions at her.

Being on Whitney Island, she could almost
pretend none of it was real.

Well, her shadow threw a wrench in those
plans.

She kept one eye on the window, spotted
Mason standing outside at a respectable distance. His arms were
crossed in front of his chest, his jaw hard as granite as he leaned
against a lamppost. A slight breeze ruffled his brown hair and he
reminded her of a warrior, standing guard outside the
damsel-in-danger’s castle.

How she hated being the helpless princess
locked in the tower.

“Man trouble?”

Blake glanced up to find a woman about her
age sitting alone at a table across from hers. A cup of coffee sat
in front of her and she held a book in her hands.

“Um, not really.” Blake paused. Was she that
transparent? “Why do you ask?”

The woman flicked her head toward the
window, right in Mason’s direction. “He’s staring at you.”

“He’s got sunglasses on.” Blake didn’t even
look in his direction.

“Trust me. He’s looking right at you. Is he
your boyfriend? An ex giving you trouble, maybe?”

The sharp bark of laughter that escaped from
Blake drew the attention from the other patrons yet again. She
covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers. “Oh, no. Not even
close.”

“He’s attractive, though he looks a
little—stubborn.” The woman shrugged. “But most men are,
right?”

“Oh, my God, yes.” Wasn’t that the
truth?

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve
ever seen you before.”

“My family owns a house on the island, but
we don’t live here full-time.” She purposely didn’t mention what
family she came from. The natives knew and didn’t make a fuss about
it. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself.

“It’s something I’m now considering, though.
We’ve been coming here since I was a child and I love it,” Blake
continued before she took a sip of her latte, getting a mouthful of
homemade whipped cream in the process.

It was delicious. Well worth the extra
calories.

“Ah, okay. I’ve only been here a couple of
months, that’s why you’re not familiar. Us full-timers get to know
everyone who lives or visits frequently here pretty quickly since
there are so few of us.” The woman set her book down and smiled.
“My name’s Suzanne.”

“Blake.” She smiled in return and waved at
the empty chair across from her. “Why don’t you join me?”

Suzanne gathered her belongings and settled
into the chair, pushing her long dark brown braid off her shoulder.
She was pretty, downright exotic with tilted, almond-shaped brown
eyes and olive skin. Blake’s complete opposite, looks-wise.

“So what brought you here?” Blake asked.
Hardly anyone chose to actually live on Whitney Island. They were
either from a long line of natives or came to vacation here and
eventually fell in love with the place.

It was one of the best kept secrets of
Northern California. And the locals liked it that way.

“Um, well, I was looking for a change.”
Suzanne shifted in her chair, her gaze dropping to the tabletop. “I
was sick of my life, sick of men, sick of everything going wrong so
I came here. I’d come here once before, a long time ago when I was
a little kid. I’ve never forgotten the island.”

“Most people can’t, once they visit.” Blake
sighed wistfully. “I adore it here. It’s almost…magical.”

Suzanne’s gaze lifted and Blake swore she
saw a flash of—what? Fear? How strange. “I love it here too. I’m
living in a little shack that’s drafty and freezing cold, and the
job I have doesn’t pay a whole lot, but I’m happy. I don’t want to
be anywhere else.”

“That’s all that matters then.” Blake had no
idea what it was like to suffer, money-wise. Being cold and having
no money? Something she’d never experienced. But feeling lonely,
unloved and unwanted?

Oh yes, something she experienced on a
near-daily basis.

“I had a, uh…boyfriend like that.” Suzanne
nodded in Mason’s direction once again. “Intimidating, always
bossing me around. I let him get the best of me for far too long,
but now I’m here. All by myself and loving it.”

“You sound incredibly healthy.” Making Blake
feel incredibly screwed up.

Suzanne shrugged and sipped the last bit
from her coffee cup. “Oh, I still have plenty of issues. No one is
perfect.”

“Yes, least of all me.” Blake laughed.

“You look pretty perfect to me.” Suzanne
studied her with a sharp eye. Blake got the distinct feeling this
woman didn’t miss much. “Your clothes are expensive and you’re
wearing diamond studs in your ears that are at least a carat each.
You’re pretty. You seem sweet, and you have a handsome man chasing
after you.”

Blake leaned across the table as if about to
share a great secret. “I don’t really like that the handsome man’s
chasing me.” Oh, how she lied.

“Hmm, well maybe you should become anti-man
like me. We can start a club here on the island.” Suzanne smiled
and grabbed her book, stuffing it into the oversized brown purse at
her feet.

“Sounds like a plan. And trust me.” Blake
paused, suddenly filled with apprehension. She really wanted this
woman to like her. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I was
just teasing you.” Suzanne stood. “I hate to be rude, but I have to
go. I need to be at work in ten minutes.”

Blake stood as well, realizing she
practically towered over the petite woman. “Where do you work?”

“At the Whitney Café on Third Street. I’m a
waitress. Hard on the feet, but the tips are worth it. Though
everything’s slowed down, now that tourist season is over.”

“Oh, I love the Whitney Café. They have the
best sandwiches.”

“Well, come on by sometime. I’ll hook you
up, get you a free drink or something.” Suzanne smiled and waved.
“It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” Blake called,
watching Suzanne exit the coffee shop.

She couldn’t help but notice the way Mason
studied Suzanne as she walked by him, his gaze lingering on her
form. Not in a sexual manner, more in a “Should I cuff you and
stuff you” sort of way.

Blake rolled her eyes. Typical. The man was
suspicious of everyone. And she wasn’t about to let his overly
protective nature ruin her good mood.

She wanted to hug herself. Even though the
conversation had only lasted ten minutes tops, she felt like she’d
just made a friend. An actual, real life friend who didn’t care who
she was or that she had more money than she ever knew what to do
with.

This moment was a first. And she didn’t want
to let it go.

* * * *

Blake exited the coffee shop a half hour
later, her stomach full, her caffeine fix handled. Mason sat on a
park bench a few feet down from the shop, the local newspaper
folded and clutched in his hand. He stood and approached when he
saw her, an expectant look on his face.

“Ready?”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Can I ask you a
favor?”

“Depends.”

He removed the sunglasses, tucking them into
the front pocket of his flannel shirt and for a moment, yet again,
she forgot how to breathe. Would she ever be able to get over his
outrageous handsomeness? Or would this happen every single time she
found his intense gaze locked on her?

“Could you look a little...” She waved a
hand in his general direction, trying to pretend everything was
normal. That he wasn’t pinning her, devastating her with just one
look. “Less intimidating when you’re hanging around? You’re ruining
it for me.”

He arched a brow, dark and sexy and full of
skepticism. “Ruining what?”

God, the man could hardly say more than two
words to her. “I was trying to talk to that woman inside the coffee
shop and I think you freaked her out.”

Well, she was exaggerating a little, but
Suzanne had picked up on his vibe immediately. She thought it best
if he could fade into the background a little more.

Hard though, considering how large and
handsome he was. He stood out like a sore thumb. Thank God, he’d at
least ditched the suits.

“Isn’t that my job?” She swore the brow went
higher. “She looks suspicious.”

“Suspicious, how? She was really nice. I
thought maybe I had a chance but I think you ruined it.”

Ah yes, kicking in the drama yet again. It
only happened when she was in Mason’s presence.

“Had a chance?” He looked utterly confused.
And completely adorable.

Damn it, this crush thing needed to stop
now. It was unhealthy and distracting, especially after last
night’s events. She didn’t need to make any more of a fool of
herself than she already had.

“A chance at making a real friend. I liked
her.” Suzanne was the first person who actually seemed to have an
interest in talking to
her
and not about her father or
politics or how wealthy her family was.

It was refreshing.

“She’s a stranger.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to warn me about
stranger danger.” Okay, she was sort of being a bitch but she
couldn’t help it. His lack of communication was frustrating, to say
the least.

“I’m just doing my job,” he pointed out.
“You don’t know her or what she’s all about.”

She really didn’t need the constant reminder
that she was merely his job. “Isn’t that how you make friends?
Getting to know someone who at first is a stranger?” Blake started
walking, heading back toward the cabin. Mason fell right into step
beside her.

“Sometimes your judgment is a little...off.”
He sunk his hands into his pockets, staring straight ahead as was
the norm.

Well. That remark hurt more than she cared
to admit. She glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye,
marveling yet again at the strength that radiated from him. She
wanted to invade his space, touch him, see if his chest and his
arms were as hard as they appeared.

Okay, she knew they were. She’d touched him
before, more than once. The man was a solid mass of muscle.
Delicious, mouth-watering muscle she wanted to search with her
hands, lips and tongue.

Heat suffused her entire body and she
breathed deep, trying to calm her suddenly erratic heart. Why
couldn’t he be interested in her? She’d thrown herself at him, gave
him the opportunity to jump her bones, and he hadn’t taken it.

Oh, he’d said he wanted to do the right
thing, but really, what man did that? It made no sense, especially
when she had no expectations.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

“Are you concerned for my well being Mason?”
She pitched her voice higher, batted her eyelashes when he looked
at her. The surprise on his face was unmistakable.

“Of course, I am. Like I said, it’s my
job.”

So not the answer she wanted to hear.

Pretending nothing happened between him and
Blake last night was the hardest thing Mason had ever done. His
supposed nonchalant attitude toward her should be considered an
Oscar-worthy performance. Every single time he looked at her, said
something to her, she acted completely offended. Baffled.

He was baffled too. Baffled he could keep up
the pretense and not give in to his baser instincts. They were
screaming at him to forget everything and kiss her. Wrap her in his
arms and hold that hot little body close, learn her every dip and
curve with his fingers, his mouth.

But he didn’t give in. He continued to act
as if she didn’t affect him. He didn’t have a choice.

This was a job. He couldn’t risk putting
Blake in danger. And since all he could think of when he looked at
her were the dirty, extremely satisfying things he wanted to do to
her, he knew he needed to get out of here.

The second they got back to the cabin, he
was calling Jerry and begging for a switch. He’d owe him big time.
He’d give his partner pretty much anything he wanted if he just did
him this one favor.

It would save his sanity. It would save
Blake from himself.

“I would prefer if you didn’t follow so
closely when I go into town,” Blake finally said, her voice soft,
though he knew it was deceptive. The thin line of steel just
beneath the petal softness of her words told him she was angry.

Perfect. He’d rather have her angry versus
hot for him.

“I promise I’ll be more discreet.” Look, he
was the poster child of politeness, how unusual. It was easy now,
with relief looming on the horizon.

Twenty-four hours, maybe a little longer and
he’d be out of here. Away from the exquisite torture that was Blake
Hewitt.

“Yes, I’d prefer that.” She sounded
genuinely surprised. “Thank you, Mason.”

They turned onto the gravelly drive that led
to the cabins and Mason slowed his stride, observing her from
behind. Like the pervert he was, his gaze immediately zeroed in on
her tight ass and he shook his head.

Maybe if he appreciated her for more than
just her body, he might get over the lusty thoughts. Having an
actual conversation with her versus merely listening to her go on
about her troubles could help. At least get his mind off lusting
after her for the next day or so.