Chapter 3
Chapter Three
C live
This was all wrong. All of it.
Clive stood in the center of the hotel room, agitation tightening every muscle in his body. He needed his things around him. Needed his home. The bed here wasn’t soft enough, the sheets itched his skin, and he’d been too alarmed at sleeping in a public bed to even remove his shirt, so only his arms had felt the sandpapery texture. The shower had some sort of weird mold in the corners. And there was a funky smell coming from one corner of the room that alarmed him.
Plus, he didn’t have all his teas. He needed them, especially the calming ones.
The fear was so intense he couldn’t find a way to relax. It felt like it had taken on a life of its own inside his chest, a dark presence that writhed and grew until it would explode from his chest like the alien in that old movie. He began to pace the small room, sweating in the pajama pants and T-shirt he’d worn to bed the night before. When he’d heard someone breaking into his house, he’d just run with only his wallet and phone. He’d ignored the strange looks from the hotel employees as he’d checked in, then spent the night staring at the door. This morning, he’d searched out a security company. He needed help.
Clive was not a big man, and he had no self-defense skills to speak of.
He was a short accountant, for fuck’s sake.
Numbers made sense to him. Order made sense to him.
And so did honesty and integrity, so if one of the companies that hired him was cheating people, he would do everything in his power to make sure they got what was coming to them. But he needed access to his files. He couldn’t do anything in this small hotel room.
His stomach growled and he rubbed it as if that would help. Normally, he would have already had his bagel with cream cheese by now. His cup of Earl Grey.
Having a schedule kept him calm.
Being around his own things kept him calm.
Too long out in the world and he began seeing things that just couldn’t be real. Things that terrified him. It had started when he was very young, seeing people who seemed to be…other. Visions or maybe even hallucinations out of the corner of his eyes that made the hair on his body stand on end. He’d blamed it on a highly active imagination but because those things he saw came with a deep feeling of fear, he went out of his way to avoid the outside world.
When he’d been awakened in the middle of the night, the absolute certainty his intruder was one of those things had sent him running.
A knock sounded at his door, and everything in him froze with terror before he realized a hitman wouldn’t be knocking. It was probably the bodyguard he’d hired. He’d picked Protective Solutions because they’d not only been open more than ten years, but they promised discretion. And all the reviews had quotes about how that discretion had impressed their clients. Until he had a handle on which company was after him, he needed that secrecy because he planned to compile everything he could and take it all to the FBI.
The knock sounded again.
“Yes?” he called out through the door.
“My name is Bain Ophion. I’m with Protective Solutions.”
Clive walked closer to the door. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“You spoke to Xavier and hired a bodyguard this morning. He said you’d have some coffee for me.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Clive muttered as he quickly unlocked the door, his mouth dropping open in shock when he saw who stood on the other side. He’d been expecting someone like a man in black. A suited, muscular man wearing dark glasses.
Well, he did have the glasses. Darkly tinted, instead of black, but they still obscured his eyes.
Other than that, the man standing there was absolutely nothing like that. He was wearing leather pants, for fuck’s sake. And a flashy, colorful shirt. His long, silvery hair was pulled back into a tight tail, but a few strands had come loose to frame the most attractive face Clive had ever seen on a man. Bladed cheekbones, a long Roman nose, and full, sensual lips that had instant and highly inappropriate fantasies shooting into his head. The bodyguard stood well over six feet, which made him tower over Clive’s own five-foot-six height. And though it was completely out of his character, Clive instantly imagined what that long, lean body would feel like against his own.
“You’re a bodyguard?” shot out of his mouth.
“Surprising, isn’t it?” The man gave him a wicked smile that didn’t help curb those fantasies at all. He held out his hand. “Clive Manning?”
Bemused, Clive shook his hand, noting the streak of heat from the simple touch. And that heat lingered, making something in his stomach tighten. Bain was nothing like his usual lovers—or lover, he should say. The man he had an agreement with was more like himself. Taller, but a businessman. Boring as fuck, but an outlet, and that was all Clive occasionally needed. Well, that’s what he’d told himself when that lover refused to go out in public with him on those days when Clive could actually talk himself into going out.
This bodyguard looked like a rock star.
One who never lacked for groupies of all sexes.
“Are you ready to go home, Clive?” Bain asked with a voice that had Clive holding back a shudder. It was deep. Velvety. The kind that would sound amazing in the dark.
Clive had to swallow back the sudden lump in his throat. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“It is with me there.” Bain braced one hand on the doorjamb, which surprised Clive because it almost felt like a familiar gesture. Like the man was flirting a little, which would never in a million years happen with him.
Clive wished he could see the man’s eyes instead of his own shocked expression reflected back at him in the glasses. He couldn’t help but look over the man’s body again, though he did it quickly. And hopefully surreptitiously. Bain was lean but his well-toned physique was obvious in the tight clothes. And he had an aura about him that spoke of strength.
But something was…off.
It reminded him of the hallucinations that had turned him into a shut-in to begin with, the sense that some things in the world weren’t quite normal. The fear that those things could hurt, even kill him. But that wasn’t what he was getting from Bain. Not entirely.
No, it was more of a stirring in his body, one he wasn’t familiar with. While Clive enjoyed sex, he’d never understood why some people were obsessed with it. He’d certainly never felt anything close to the fireworks he’d read about in books.
He had a feeling that sex would be different with this man.
That Bain would actually spend time enjoying his body. That he’d explore and kiss and stroke those long-fingered hands everywhere. Heat speared so hard through him he had to hold back a gasp. He actually felt his cock stirring.
He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. Shaking his head to clear it, he made sure he had his phone and wallet and stepped out. As they walked down the hall, he couldn’t help but notice the way Bain moved. Almost like he was made of liquid. Sinuous, graceful strides with those long legs, arms swaying in an almost hypnotic fashion. And even with the dark glasses covering his eyes, Clive could tell he was highly alert, watching for any sense of danger.
It instantly set him at ease.
“Did you drive here?” Bain asked. He held up a hand to stop Clive and looked around the corner.
“No. I wasn’t able to grab my keys last night. I ended up walking a long ways before I called a car that took me to the hotel.”
Bain looked right and left at the people on the sidewalk as they left the hotel. “Xavier told me everything. So you think one of your new clients isn’t happy about you being their bookkeeper? If so, why send you the files to begin with?”
“I’m not a bookkeeper. I’m an accountant. And you’re right. It doesn’t make sense. I just need a good, solid chunk of time to dig into my files. Whoever this is, they won’t get away with it. I’ll make sure of that.”
Bain turned his head toward Clive, studying him, and Clive wished again that he’d lose the glasses. It would be nice to see what he was thinking, but also a part of Clive wanted to know the color of his eyes. He had pale skin along with that silver hair, and for some reason, Clive thought he’d have dark eyes. Or possibly a bright green—like emeralds.
Bain led him to a gray sedan and opened the passenger door. Clive settled in and attached his seatbelt, his heart beating hard. When Bain folded his long frame behind the wheel, he turned to him. “Are you sure we should go there? To my house, I mean. Someone was in there. Inside my home.”
One silver eyebrow went up. “Would you rather not? Protective Solutions has multiple safe houses, and it would be easy to set you up in one of those. They’re nice, too. Very comfortable and private. But I was told going home was what you wanted.”
“It is. I’m much more comfortable in my own environment. I guess I’m second-guessing that right now. Last night, I was more scared than I’ve ever been in my life.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “But I don’t…do well away from my home. Plus, I still have to work. I have clients depending on me.” He paused. “And of course, I want to figure out which of my new clients is a damn weasel.”
Bain’s mouth quirked in amusement. “A weasel, huh? Okay, then we’ll get you back where you feel comfortable. I promise you, I’m very good at my job. I’ll keep you safe.”
Though Clive had just met Bain, he somehow knew that was true. That this man would do everything in his power to protect him.