Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Ahem.” Bright lights flooded the kitchen.
They jerked apart as a slender woman in high heels and a business-professional dress crossed to the kitchen island. Without another mention of what she’d walked in on, the woman took the lemonade pitcher to the side counter and poured herself a glass.
Chance stepped back. Jane wasn’t fast to jump off the kitchen island. He sensed animosity between the women.
Jane slid down and stayed close to his side. “I didn’t know you were working today.”
The other woman raised her eyebrows and then assessed the way Jane stood by his side.
Then she smirked. “I see you’ve been introduced.
” She took a sip of her lemonade, put it down, and stared at him like Chance was a prize to conquer.
After a none-too-subtle look he was familiar with, she strode forward and extended her hand as though he might kiss her knuckles.
He shook it instead. “Chance Evans.”
“Lark Dyson.”
So this was Lark. He sized up Lark’s right hand. Platinum blond hair framed her flawless face. With mischievous light blue eyes and a perfect smile, she carried an air that went well beyond confident and leaned precariously close to entitled. “Thanks for the text.”
“If there are any problems.” Lark pointedly looked at Jane. “You can let me know. I’ll handle them until you can meet with Gigi.”
“No problems.” Chance wondered what the other Thane staff would be like. He was certain he could get on well with security. But how many were like Lark? She came off as cold as this kitchen, and more judgmental than he’d been of Dax.
Lark tapped a manicured fingernail against the counter. “If you could spare me a few minutes, we can go over logistics.” After a beat, she tacked on, “Alone.”
Jane squeezed his forearm. “I’ll be around back. Call me when you’re done.”
Chance mustered all of his control not to pull her back and kiss her goodbye. But that’d be pushing his luck in several ways. He lifted his chin, quietly saying goodbye, then turned to Lark.
She eyed him coolly. “Sometimes I have lunch in here. Please don’t fuck where I eat.”
He crossed his arms, knowing an enemy when he saw one. What he didn’t know was why. “Any other important rules?”
“Image is everything. You already look the part. Make sure you act it as well, or you’ll be gone before you know it.”
“Are you always so kind and welcoming?” He narrowed his eyes. “Or am I just lucky?”
“Kindness has no place in this household,” Lark said. “We hired you: good-looking, single, and knows how to use a gun.”
He snorted. “Yeah, lady. That’s exactly what it says on my resume.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
This was why he didn’t do celebrity security. Lark the Enemy made his skin crawl. “Let’s talk about logistics,” he said, changing the subject. “What—”
“Gigi will handle everything when she returns. She’ll introduce you to her current security and share the threats that they’ve kept from the press.” Lark coolly smiled. “Until then, I’ll be your point of contact. Give me a few hours, and I’ll text you a housing assignment.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting.”
“I’m sure.” Lark tartly crossed her arms. Her pink lips pursed, and she studied him as though she were analyzing the Kandinsky he noticed hanging in the hallway off the kitchen.
Like with the painting, Lark could see his value, knew what others had said of him, but for the life of her, she wasn’t sure why he was considered world class.
At least, that was how Chance felt about the Kandinsky.
Lark sipped her lemonade and then added, “If the nanny becomes a problem, we can ship her and the kid off until we’re through with you.”
The nanny and the kid. His molars clamped—but it was at that moment that Chance understood Jane’s concern for Teddy. The boy’s parents weren’t the only problem. These people saw a child as a commodity.
Jane paced the length of her small living room.
While she should’ve been worried about Lark, she didn’t care.
Chance preoccupied every crevice of worry and wonder in her head.
He’d thrown out every assumption she’d made about him—and them, if that wasn’t too presumptive, out the door. And that kiss…
A wicked burst of shivers slid down her neck.
She could still feel him. The hard heat of his body wrapping around her soft one.
His hungry, full lips, and his arousal. The rapid cadence of her heartbeat exploded, weakening her knees and resolve.
Jane took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
The memory of him against her, long, thick, and hard, would forever be seared into her memory.
She pressed a hand to her heart. The poor thing was trying to jump from under her sternum.
But she didn’t know what to do next. She still didn’t trust herself…
or understand what he saw in her—she stopped cold.
Even if she didn’t get it, he saw something in her.
He demanded that she accept that. It was scary but exhilarating.
Without saying so out loud, he’d declared himself hers and demanded she admit the truth. He wanted her like she did him.
None of that helped with Lark, though. There would be ramifications if the Thanes’s publicist told Gigi about their indecent act on the kitchen island.
Jane took a seat on her couch and pulled a large knit blanket up to her neck.
Lark and Gigi were working with Chance. They’d asked for him by name and hadn’t mentioned his visit.
Jane couldn’t wrap her head around the situation.
A solid knock rapped on her door. “Jane?”
A clap of arousal thundered in her chest. She didn’t know it was possible for anticipation to show up at the knock of a door. But it had. So much for thinking with a clear head around the man with the golden touch.
She unburied from the protective cocoon on the couch, ordering herself to “keep it together.” Then Jane let him in. “You found me.”
“I’ll always find you.” Chance ambled into her place as though this was just another day and he wasn’t casually dropping lines that made her cling to the doorknob for support. “Lark’s a real peach, huh?”
Jane snorted her agreement and moved back onto the couch and pulled the blanket onto her lap. “Is peach a special word for—” She stopped herself and pulled the blanket to her chin. “Never mind. Gossiping about Lark isn’t worth the bad karma.”
“I might disagree.” Chance took a seat on the couch.
“One might consider it sharing intel on the enemy, not gossiping.” His relaxed demeanor was the epitome of confidence.
He leaned an elbow on the back of the couch.
His long, powerful legs cavalierly spread as though he wasn’t aware that his pants strained at the bulk of his thigh muscles.
“After the conversation I just had with her.” He shook his head, gaze unfocused as if he were rehearing Lark.
“I can think of a few more deserving names for that lady other than peach.”
Jane could only imagine. She tossed a corner of her soft blanket to him. “It helps to cuddle something soft and forgiving when this place gets to be too much.”
Chance cut her a quick look. “Is that why you’re under there?”
“Maybe.”
“Lark bothered you that much?” He gestured toward the door. “’Cause I’ll make sure she—”
“No, don’t bother with her.”
“I wouldn’t be able to handle your job,” he admitted.
“Sometimes the reasons that I don’t quit are the same reasons that I want to quit.”
Chance rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and released it, but tension remained tight in his jaw. “Because you have to protect that little boy.”
A lump formed in her throat. She smiled halfheartedly and gave a short nod before she trusted her voice. “Yes.”
He pulled her under his arm. “You’re a protector at heart.”
Jane wanted to correct him. Her cold upbringing and lack of caring parents had given her textbook boundary issues. She wasn’t protecting Teddy as much as she loved and cared for him, basking in the love he returned. “Not quite.”
His arm tightened around her shoulder and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Agree to disagree.”
She leaned into him, and whether he wanted the blanket or not, she didn’t care.
Jane tucked it over his legs, enveloping them in the large knit cocoon of safety.
She didn’t want to have a thought-provoking discussion right now.
Jane would much rather kiss him like they had in the kitchen.
But, if they were going to get deep, she appreciated his arm around her.
The world didn’t seem as scary and ugly when curled under there.
“Until Gigi is back in town, I want to get to know you better, Jane. The real you. Not the nanny. Not the woman in Syria or Abu Dhabi. Just you.”
Butterflies danced in her stomach—except, she didn’t have a new side of her to show off.
Anxiety needled, and a small wave of self-consciousness dulled her growing bliss.
“That was me.” She hated to disappoint him but owed Chance the truth.
She took a shallow breath and faced him.
“I already showed you who I was. I’m not sure much will change. ”
“I meant,” he tried again. “I want to spend time with you, no bullets or fancy-ass hotels, before…”
She hung on the answer, but his mouth clamped shut.
Before? Obviously, before he left again. Could she trust herself to him, knowing he would eventually leave? No. Why didn’t he continue his thought? Unable to wait any longer, she prompted, “Chance, before what?”
He hesitated and frowned. “I don’t know.”
That wasn’t true. He knew. So did she. No matter how much of her heart she opened to him, how much he claimed to want her, Chance Evans would leave when Aces needed Midas.