2. Blake
TWO
Blake
The meeting adjourns. Chairs scrape against the floor. Ethan motions for us to gather, his face set in its usual stoic mask.
“Alright. You heard the brass. We’re going all-in on Sentinel.” Ethan’s voice is low, meant for our ears only. “For now, we wait while Mitzy and her team track down Greaves. I’m sure she’s tracking that yacht. All leaves are canceled, not that any of you ever ask for time off. We’re on training duty until the techies build out a mission packet.”
I wait for the other shoe to drop. I know what’s coming but hearing it out loud makes it real.
“Blake, you’ve got Sophia.” Ethan’s gaze lands on me. “She latched onto you, so she’s yours now. Make her comfortable. Show her around. Get her settled in and see if you can get her to open up about anything she might have left out in her initial debrief.”
I open my mouth to protest, to suggest someone else. “Hank or Rigel would be better suited for this. I?—”
Ethan’s stern gaze locks onto mine, unyielding. “She needs someone she feels safe with. That’s you. You handle her and do it right. No arguments.”
“Copy that.” I keep my face carefully neutral .
As the team disperses, I linger, my thoughts churning.
Sophia.
Just the thought of her name sends a rush of heat coursing through my veins. I make my way out of the briefing room, my feet carrying me automatically through the familiar halls of Guardian HRS. My mind, however, is far away, lost in memories of that night on the yacht.
Sophia huddled on that bed, barely dressed.
Her eyes wide with fear and desperation.
The way she flinched when I approached.
How her expression softened when she realized we would be rescuing her as well.
Sophia’s presence of mind, directing us to the safe and insisting we grab the documents, hard drives, and thumb drives with crucial information on the Sentinels, was impressive.
It was impressive, especially given the chaos.
Nor will I forget the way her body pressed against mine. The way she clung to me. The way she felt when I held her in my arms during the boat ride back to shore. So light, as if years of abuse had whittled her down to nothing but skin and bones. Yet she clung to me with surprising strength, her face buried in my chest.
The memory sends another wave of heat through me, followed immediately by self-loathing.
What kind of man gets turned on by a trauma victim’s desperate grab for safety?
I’ve rescued many women, but none ever got under my skin like Sophia. I’m fucked in the head. That’s what I am. Stay away. Keep my distance. Get through this fucked up assignment.
For her sake and mine.
But that’s not happening.
Fuck me.
I drag a hand down my face and grimace.
Each small interaction replays in my mind—a highlight reel of moments I’ve tried—and failed—to forget.
Sophia’s hand gripping mine as we led her to safety. Her body fitting perfectly against mine when I carried her off the yacht. Her voice, trembling yet clear, directing us to the safe and the critical information inside. The fleeting look in her eyes filled with gratitude and something more. Leaning on me for support during the boat ride back, her breath warm on my neck.
These moments refuse to fade, playing repeatedly, pulling me deeper into dangerous attraction. The truth is impossible to resist: I’m intensely attracted to Sophia Reeves.
Deeply, irresistibly, irrefutably attracted.
It’s more than just her physical beauty, though. God knows she’s gorgeous. Long, dark ringlets cascade down her back. Eyes the color of storm clouds, gray and intense. High cheekbones and full lips that beg to be kissed. Her body, slender yet strong, every curve draws me in.
No, it’s more than that. I am impressed by the strength and resilience that allowed her to survive unspeakable horrors. The intelligence shining in her eyes, choosing each word carefully to minimize any retribution, as if every word might be turned into a weapon to use against her, intoxicates me.
Lost in these thoughts, my feet carry me on autopilot. Suddenly, I find myself outside Medical, the familiar surroundings snapping me back to reality.
Sophia is here…
Already, my blood heats as desire stirs.
I’m a fucking monster.
How am I supposed to do this?
How can I be the Guardian she needs when every part of me aches to hold her close and never let go?
I lean against the wall, taking deep breaths to center myself. This isn’t about me. This is about the mission. About taking down Sentinel and making sure no one else has to go through what Sophia did.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Squaring my shoulders, I push off from the wall and head toward the reception desk. Time to find out exactly where they put Sophia and get this show on the road .
“Can I help you?” The receptionist, a pretty young woman, eyes me as I approach.
“I’m looking for Sophia Reeves.” I’m proud of how steady my voice sounds.
She taps at her computer for a moment, then nods. “Room 217.”
“Thanks.” I turn to go, but her smile widens.
She leans forward, exposing just enough cleavage to let me know she’s interested. Her voice drops a notch, becoming sultry.
“Is there anything else I can help you with? Maybe grab a drink later?”
Usually, I’d consider it. My bed’s never empty for long, and it’s no secret I have a healthy appetite for sex. My urges are carnal and raw. Aggressive and dark.
Fuuuuuck… Stop thinking about sex!
But right now, all I can think about is Sophia. Her face, her voice, the way she looked at me.
“Thanks, but I’ve got my hands full today.” I give her a polite nod, moving down the hallway.
“You sure? I promise I don’t bite—unless you ask nicely.” Her pout is almost comical.
“Maybe another time.” I shake my head. A different day, and I’d be all on board.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Her disappointment is palpable, but she recovers quickly.
Walking down the hall, my heart races with each step. 215… 216… 217. I stop outside her door, hand poised to knock—frozen in place.
Get it together, Jackson. You’ve faced down terrorists and drug lords. You can handle one woman.
But that’s the problem.
Sophia isn’t just a woman. She’s the one who haunts my dreams—the one I have to face every day while pretending I don’t want to lose myself in her completely.
But I do.
I desperately do .
I cut that thought off before it can fully form.
Professional. Be professional.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door. The scent of antiseptic mingles with the faintest lavender perfume. There’s a moment of silence, and a soft voice calls out.
“Come in.”
I turn the handle, the cool metal grounding me before I step into the room. The dim lighting casts a warm glow, creating a small oasis in the otherwise harsh medical ward. Sophia Reeves sits on the edge of the bed, her head bowed, those storm-cloud eyes hidden behind a curtain of dark lashes.
For a moment, I forget how to breathe.
The room feels ten sizes too small, the air too thick to breathe. The faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of voices in the hall fade away, leaving only my heartbeat thundering past my ears.
A few seconds pass in heavy silence, and then she gives a slow, languid blink. Her gaze lifts, meeting mine, and my skin tingles under the intensity of her stare.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Her voice is a whisper, like the rustle of silk, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth of her breath and the gentle cadence of her words wrap around me, pulling me in.
I’m so fucked.
I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. “Do you remember me? From the yacht?” My words sound hollow compared to the storm of emotions raging inside me.
“Of course, I remember you.” Her eyes widen slightly, and a small, almost shy smile plays on her lips. “How could I forget the man who saved me?”
She shifts slightly, the movement causing a strand of dark hair to fall across her face. The urge to reach out, to brush it aside, and feel the silky softness of her hair slip through my fingers consumes me.
Her storm-cloud gaze pierces through me, reading every thought and desire I’m trying to suppress.
The room’s atmosphere shifts, the air thickening with an undeniable chemistry. Her eyes lock onto mine, and the spark of interest in her gaze mirrors my intense attraction. The tension between us crackles, electric and palpable.
“How are you doing?” My voice is rough.
“I’m okay, considering the circumstances.” Sophia sighs softly, her shoulders lift and fall. The subtle scent of lavender wafts toward me. Her gaze locks onto mine, and she bites her lower lip gently. “I don’t know what happens next.”
“Uh, yeah.” I try to clear the haze clouding my thoughts. “I’m here to talk to you about that. Guardian HRS is concerned about your safety. We’d like to offer you quarters and protection.”
“Really? For me?” Her brows arch in surprise, lips parting slightly, drawing my attention. She leans forward, her fingers grazing the bedspread, creating a soft rustle.
That and more.
It’s the more part which is the major fucking problem.
“It’s the least we can do, considering how you helped us.” I shift on my feet, trying to appear nonchalant, but the room feels smaller with her so close.
“What did I do? You rescued me.” She tilts her head, dark hair cascading over one shoulder, releasing a subtle hint of her floral shampoo. Her eyes remain fixed on mine, a playful curiosity in them.
“The safe and the drives. We want to ensure you’re safe.” My voice falters, remembering her bravery as she guided us to the crucial information cutting through the chaos.
“Thank you.” Sophia’s gaze softens, and she offers a small, appreciative smile. “For everything.” Her voice is warm and sincere.
“We’ll take care of you, Sophia. You can count on that.” I swallow hard, my senses overwhelmed by her presence and the intensity of her gratitude.
“We?” She tilts her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “What about you?”
A hint of flirtation laces her voice, and the question hangs between us. The heat between us intensifies; the chemistry undeniable as she waits for my response .
“I’ve been assigned to oversee your needs. To take care of you.” My voice comes out huskier than I intend, thick with desire.
Her eyes widen, the playful glint growing sharper. The air between us crackles with electricity. My heart pounds as I catch the subtle parting of her lips, an unspoken invitation, and the faint hitch in her breath.
“Take care of me? Well, that’s a wonderful surprise.” Her voice is soft and flirtatious. “Exactly what does overseeing my needs entail?” Her eyes lock onto mine with a dangerous mix of curiosity and desire.
“Anything you need,” I whisper, my voice barely holding steady. “I’ll make it happen.”
My pulse races, palms damp, as I fight to keep my composure.
“Anything?” Her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief, testing the limits of what anything might mean.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay focused. “Anything we would do for those in your situation.” I steer away from the dangerous territory we seem to be stepping into. “We have a place called the Facility where we take the women we rescue. It’s a halfway house that helps them recover from their trauma and get back on their feet, but with Jonathan Greaves still out there, we think it’s safer for you to remain on Guardian HQ grounds.”
At the mention of Greaves, Sophia flinches, her face paling.
“He’s a monster, a truly terrible human being. I can’t believe I’m finally free of him, but it doesn’t feel real. This feels like a dream. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did.”
“It’s my job.”
“Your job?” She tilts her head, giving me a slow, deliberate once-over.
Her curious gaze sweeps over all six-foot-three of me, and I can’t help but imagine her lingering below my belt as her eyes make a languid journey down to my boots, then back up again.
Did she lick her lips?
Fuck. Now I’m hallucinating shit.
She glances around the sterile hospital room, her gaze lingering on the plain white walls and the uninviting bed. A flicker of disappointment crosses her eyes.
“I’m so tired of hanging out in this hospital room, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
She thinks she’s stuck here indefinitely.
“No. Not at all.” I rush to her, my hand instinctively reaching out to touch her shoulder. The instant spark of connection sizzles through me, a rush of heat and desire that nearly takes my breath away. “You’re not staying here . We have quarters for you, a place where you can be comfortable.”
Her eyes widen, fear giving way to relief and gratitude that softens her features. With a simple touch, the connection between us deepens, the air now charged with undeniable electricity.
“This is a dream.” A smile brightens her face, filled with hope and a touch of uncertainty. “I’m grateful and blown away. Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”
“Not a dream, sweetie. This is real.”
“Wow. I want to kiss you right now.” Her gaze lingers on my lips, sending my pulse racing. A flood of warmth shoots straight to my groin.
Nope. Not headed down that path.
Be professional.
I clear my throat, forcing a casual tone. “How about we bust you out of this joint, and I show you to your new quarters?” As I reach out to help her, a fresh jolt of awareness surges through me.
“I’d love that.” She rises slowly, her movements naturally sensual. As she loops her arm through mine, her fingers lightly brush my bicep, sending a shudder through my heart.
“Wow, muscles on top of muscles.” She squeezes my arm, then trails her fingers from my shoulder down to the back of my hand. “Quite impressive.”
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening.
Be professional.
Yeah right. I’m giving myself ten-to-one odds this won’t stay professional at all.