Protecting Fate (3 page)

Not an invitation for me
. He had to remember that. She was a body to guard, not a woman he could touch. But Z found himself running his hand from her shoulder to her wrist, marveling at how soft her skin was, and then reached for the cuff. He closed the Velcro around her and tugged on it. “Too tight?”

“Just right.” A flush spread across her chest, and she seemed to be breathing a little faster.

He should get off the bed and move away. He knew it. But instead he sat onto the mattress next to her, letting himself look his full. “He’s a lucky man.”

“That goes without saying.” She watched his face, frowning as if she couldn’t quite work something out. “I have a question for you, Z.”

He dropped his gaze to the scrap of cloth covering the dip between her thighs. He could
swear
it was damp from her desire. His control fractured a little more. “What?”

“Do you want me?” Her voice seduced him as thoroughly as the sight of her body. “I can feel your eyes on me. Do you want to touch me?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.
He was actually reaching out to do just that when he caught himself. What the fuck was he doing? Not only was she his charge, but she was Garrett’s little sister. He should have put a stop to this the second she took off her clothes instead of letting her coax him closer, until he was actually considering taking her up on the offer that blazed from her eyes. Z snatched his hand back and pushed off the bed so fast, it was only his quick reflexes that kept him from tripping.

Those blue eyes gave no mercy. “Maybe you’re more of a watcher. Would you like to sit there on that chair and watch me touch myself?”

Yes
. He gritted his teeth. “No.”

“Liar.”

It dawned on him that this woman was trained by the same man who trained Garrett. She could read his interest, even as he tried to hide it. Shit. Z turned away, closing his eyes, but it did no good. The sight of a half-naked Sara Reaver would be imprinted in his mind from now until kingdom come.

“You need to be protected,” he said.

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I like an audience.”

He couldn’t be sure of his reactions if he did stay. He had no claim on this woman, but the thought of sitting and watching another man touch her… Z couldn’t do it. So he walked to the door, keeping his back to her. “I’ll be at your apartment tomorrow at seven. Be ready.”

Then he fled. There was no other word for it. He could comfort himself with calling it a tactical retreat, but the truth was he hustled out of there as if there were hounds of hell on his heels.

Chapter Three

Sara huffed out a breath. She’d only meant to poke at Z, but the sheer
want
in his eyes when he looked at her had been unexpected, to say the least. And she’d responded.
Of course
she’d responded—she’d have to be dead not to. The man was tempting in a way she never would have expected from hearing stories about him. He’d looked at her like he was the big bad wolf, and if she made a wrong move, he’d be only too happy to gobble her up.

There had been men who’d wanted her—she was attractive enough that she never had to worry about her dance card being empty—but it was like the difference between a puppy and a junkyard dog. If she had half a brain in her head, she’d chalk this up to temporary insanity and pretend it never happened.

She dropped back onto the pillows and sighed. Obviously it had been too much to ask for a night of hot sex with no strings attached before she was shipped off. She and Nolan weren’t anywhere near her three date/fuck limit, but now she couldn’t dredge up any of the interest she’d felt before she came upstairs. Damn Z for leaving her like this, all cold and hot and twisted up.

Because, even knowing it was a horrible idea, she wanted him more than she had any right to.

It didn’t make any sense. Sara might like playing on the wild side from time to time, but she wasn’t stupid. Sleeping with her bodyguard—who happened to be her older brother’s best friend—was a recipe for disaster. It was something she might have tried when she was nineteen and still in the middle of her wild and crazy days. Now? Now, she knew better.

Or she was
supposed
to.

The door opened, and her entire body went tight with anticipation…right up until Nolan walked into the room. Damn it. She’d been
excited
about Nolan, had been ready to rock his world seven ways to Sunday.

But one talk with Z had gone and ruined everything. She tried and failed to dredge up a smile. The whole night was one big mark in the loss column. At this point, she might as well go home, pour herself a glass of wine, and try to get some sleep. “Hey, handsome. Can you untie me? I’m going to have to take a rain check on our play date.”

He was at her side in an instant, brown eyes concerned. “Are you okay? Did someone step out of line?” It was clear from his tone that he had one particular person in mind.

“No, I’m fine.” Or she would be as soon as she exorcised Z from her realm of possibilities. She didn’t believe in that fairy tale connection, but she was a big fan of lust at first sight. This felt different, though. Sara wasn’t sure what the hell it was, but she didn’t like it.
So forget it. That’s the best way to move forward.

Easier said than done.

Since she couldn’t promise her full attention to Nolan, she wasn’t about to burn one of the three times with him tonight. So she smiled, climbed off the bed, and pulled on her dress. “Really, I’m fine.”

“I’d believe it more if you didn’t have
that
look in your eyes.”

“What look?” She tried for innocence, but Nolan wasn’t stupid. He had a knack for seeing things she’d rather not share.

Like now. “Like you got your toes trampled all over.”

Considering that was exactly how she felt, she didn’t have much she could say in response. But Sara patted his cheek and kept her smile bright. “Not by you. That’s all you need to worry about.”

“Sara—”

God save her from overprotective men. “I’m fine. Really. I just need to get some sleep.” She slipped out of the room before Nolan could call her on her lie. Not that he would have, even if she’d stayed. They were casual at best, and while he might be a good man, he had no claim on her. There was only so far he could push, and they both damn well knew it.

Which was exactly how she liked things. Sara had enough overprotective men in her life without adding another—especially one she just wanted to have hot, wall-banging sex with.

Or, God forbid, one who worked with her brother.

She headed out to the street, ignoring the party in full swing down on the club level. On another night, she’d be right there in the midst of it, dancing and drinking and having the time of her life. Tonight, it held no more appeal than the upper floors did. Damn Z to hell and back.

The cab ride back to her apartment went by entirely too fast. She still hadn’t managed to center herself by the time she stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cold night air did nothing to cool the heat pulsing from her skin. It was all too easy—too tempting—to close her eyes and picture
his
pale green eyes tracking her every movement. She’d played sub before, when the opportunity arose, but Sara had never felt quite so…hunted. She might have been able to push through on sheer bravado because she’d surprised him, but she didn’t like her chances of being successful a second time.

Which is why there couldn’t be a second time.

Z had all the hallmarks of a man who wouldn’t allow himself to be topped from the bottom. It might be her imagination getting the best of her, but he struck her as the type to demand
everything
. And everything was too high a cost, even for someone who made her react with just a look.

Then why are you still thinking about him? Take a deep breath, and get your head on straight because you’re going to be spending a whole hell of a lot of time with him in the near future
.

She’d dealt with difficult men—and women—in the past. She could do this. The alternative… There wasn’t one. He wouldn’t touch her, even if she wanted it. His training was too ingrained and the man wore his control like a suit of armor. So if she didn’t get a hold of herself, she’d be panting after him like… Well, like something that wasn’t attractive in the least. She was better than that. She had to be.

Sara pushed through the door and into the relative heat of her building. It was entirely possible that this exile was a test to see how well she followed orders. Uncle Rodger wasn’t above doing something like that, though she’d thought she’d moved past that kind of thing years ago. Either way, she couldn’t risk screwing this up.

“Being a responsible adult is overrated.” She unlocked her apartment door and frowned when it didn’t immediately swing open. She pushed it, encountered resistance again, and pushed harder. It gave with a groan, opening another few inches.

Enough to see that her living room had been trashed.

Every instinct demanded she rush in there and look for the few mementos she actually cared about, but her training kicked in. She took two steps back, cursed, and nearly ran from the building. There was a little corner store halfway down the block that was open at all hours, and that was where she ducked through the front door. Sara dialed her uncle with shaking fingers.

“Hello?” Despite the late hour, he sounded as sharp as ever.

“I have a problem.”

“Where are you?”

“Not my apartment.” She took a deep breath, fighting for calm. “It’s been tossed.” She gave him the rundown with what little detail she had, and her current location.

“Stay where you are. I’m sending someone over.”

“Okay.” Sara hung up, her stomach sinking when she realized exactly
whom
he was sending over. Shit.

…

Z didn’t break into a run simply because it would draw attention. If whoever went through Sara’s apartment was watching, he didn’t need them knowing he was attached to their target.
Target
. His skin crawled at the wrongness of that term being associated with the little blonde who was so full of life. She had to be protected.

He cut across the street and ducked into the store Rodger said she’d be in. At first glance, it was empty, but he walked down the main aisle and caught sight of her, huddled and staring at the display in front of her. She spoke when he stopped a few feet away from her, “You know, I’ve been here ten minutes and I still can’t decide. What do you think? Should I go ultra-ribbed for her pleasure, or with the magical sensations of hot and cold?”

“What?” He followed her gaze and frowned. “Why are you looking at condoms?” More than that, why was she here instead of in the middle of losing herself with Serve’s manager? He couldn’t ask that, though. He had no right to the information, and the fact that he was pleased she’d cancelled was completely out of line.

“I can only spend so long staring at chips and Gatorade. At least condoms have entertainment value.” She shrugged and finally turned to face him. “So what’s the plan?”

“Getting you out of here.” When she didn’t move, he motioned toward the front door. “The sooner, the better.”

“No.”

Z frowned. “Yes.” He actually went so far as to reach for her before he realized what he was doing and aborted the movement.

But she was already shaking her head. “I have stuff in my apartment that I need.”

“Buy new.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not made of money.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And some things are irreplaceable.”

Now wasn’t the time to tell her that her uncle had given him damn near an unlimited budget to keep her happy. Or that Z was more than capable of replacing anything she had in her apartment twice over out of his own funds. He had to get her out of here by whatever means necessary—get her
safe
. “Make a list.” When she still didn’t move, he ground his teeth.

“Is this where you tell me that we can do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“No.” He pulled her toward him and bent down, tossing her over his shoulder in a smooth movement. She cursed, but he had a job and that job wouldn’t be changed for difficult women. Z nodded to the shell-shocked cashier as he stepped out onto the street and headed for the town car he’d rented. A quick check in the front showed one of his men, Joe. He set Sara into the backseat as carefully as he could and then climbed in behind her.

Right in time to catch a right hook to the jaw.

He reeled back, but that didn’t keep him from stopping her next punch, encasing her fist with his hand. “Enough.”

“You can’t just throw me over your shoulder whenever you think I’m being too difficult. There’s this neat little thing called words—normal people use them before skipping straight to force.”

“I used words. Words which you ignored.”

“Then use better words.”

“Sara.” He waited for her to stop huffing and meet his gaze. “You were getting in this car one way or another, and we both know it.”

“Ass,” she hissed. “Both you and my uncle.”

“Maybe.” His job was to keep her safe, and sometimes doing so meant keeping his charges safe from themselves. It was entirely possible that whoever trashed her apartment was long gone, but hoping for that wasn’t worth the risk of allowing her back there. She knew it—or she would as soon as she calmed down and thought things through.

But he wasn’t going to be her personal punching bag in the meantime.

Z looked up in time to see her shifting. He squeezed her fist, hard enough to show her he meant business. “You were entitled to one hit. Any more and there will be consequences.”

“What, are you going to hit me back?”

Did she realize she got damn near belligerent when she was frightened? He’d seen it in men back during his days in the Army. They got scared and immediately picked a fight with someone bigger, just to prove they weren’t. He didn’t find it any more endearing with Sara than he had with them. “I don’t hit women.” Before she could look too smug, he continued. “But I will not hesitate to put you over my lap and spank you until you beg for mercy.”

Her blue eyes went wide. “Oh.”

He couldn’t believe he’d given those dark desires voice. Or his reaction to doing so. It was all too easy to picture doing just that to her—yanking up her dress to bare her from the waist down and using his hand to redden her ass.
Fuck
. Z had no more success banishing that image than he had back at Serve, so he tried to focus on the immediate problem.

Satisfied she wouldn’t try to hit him again, he let go of her fist and sat back. “Text your uncle the items you want and my man will bring them out in the morning.” He watched her type away at her phone, satisfied she was obeying. For once. When she pushed send, he noted that her hands were shaking. Shit. Her attitude was one thing—he’d dealt with that kind of thing before—but this was something else. Z specialized in putting himself and his team into some of the most dangerous situations known to man, but put him in a car with a shaking woman and he was at a loss.

What was he supposed to do? Pull her into his arms and hold her until she stopped? The idea was more attractive than it should be, which meant that was exactly what he
shouldn’t
do. But he still found himself reaching for her.

Sara looked up at him. “I have a question.”

“Ask.” He laid his arm over the back of the seat to cover his intention. Fuck, this was worse than being in high school and trying to figure out if making the first move would get him a kiss or a slap. He wasn’t made for comfort. He never had been.

She leaned back, her long hair brushing against his forearm. “Would you really put me over your knee if I hit you again?”

He went rock hard at the thought. Because there wasn’t fear, or even intimidation, in her tone. No, she sounded both curious and turned on. He cleared his throat and lied, “No.”

“Liar.” She put her hand on his thigh, entirely too close to his cock. “I think you’d love to do exactly that, to yank up my dress while I struggle, and spank me until my skin goes red and I’m begging.” And then the little troublemaker palmed him between his legs. “No need to saying anything—I have my answer right here.”