Chapter Four #2
She laughed nervously under her breath at herself, shaking her head and shoulders as if shedding water; only she was trying to shed her sensations of gloom and doom.
It did no one any good to get fatalistic.
She simply needed to concentrate on one stage at a time.
It was the best she could do. Right now that meant concentrating on helping Nash and his people settle in, discussing routines, and sharing other details she thought pertinent.
Devon didn’t doubt that Nash would be inundating her with recommendations as well.
She found herself looking forward to spending time with him.
Perhaps over the next six months she would get to know him a little better.
In fact, she wanted to get to know everyone a little better.
Including Mr. Carter Spencer. She had trusted him all of this time.
Could he be a traitor? Had he actually allowed that murderer into her bedroom at the hotel, telling her enemy how, when, and where to find her?
The mercury-filled bullet had gone completely through her leg, minimizing the damage, but leaving enough traces of the deadly metal behind to make healing excruciatingly slow even for one of her rapidly healing species.
Her people could even heal themselves after decapitation if the body and head were reunited, no matter how long afterward.
They did not decompose, their flesh immune to earthly bacteria and unappealing to flora and fauna that usually tried to break remains down.
So long as the parts were joined and blood flow reestablished, there was nothing short of radical bombs that could do what one little dose of irradiated mercury could do.
She had been damn lucky that night. When she had disarmed her opponent and held his neck beneath her foot, he had gloated that she was as good as dead anyway because there was a ten-million-dollar price on her head.
She had shot him repeatedly with his own weapon until her foot passed through nothing but vapor.
And here it was a week later and she still hurt when she sat and limped when she walked if she wasn’t paying close attention.
Infuriating.
When she got hold of whoever was behind the attacks … their days would be numbered. Alpha Council was going to pull them in quite sharply. And Liam Nash was going to help her do that.
There was a scuffing sound to her right and she looked up to see the devil himself looming in the doorway.
He had struck a casual arm up against the doorframe, making all the muscles and lean lines up and down his left side flex in orchestrated male beauty.
It took her breath away. Maybe that was why she had to inhale so slow and deep.
It shouldn’t have anything to do with her trying to get her fill of his incredible scent.
Soap, sweat, and the bold aroma of the outdoors, all combined with that unique factor that was only Liam; that unique factor that made him so irrepressibly male.
It swirled in her senses and set her nerves tingling at their ends. She couldn’t help but smile.
Liam watched as she turned from her study of the monitors and speared him with those lichen green eyes, their polished surface gleaming with quick, intense thought as she recognized his presence.
There was something almost predatory in her expression for the smallest second, but just as his chest tightened with an excited anxiety, she let a smile grow slowly over her pale pink lips.
She straightened from her observations and turned to face him fully.
Liam couldn’t resist running his eyes down the length of her.
Not just because she was so fantastically designed, but also because it was an ingrained habit to observe everything he could about everyone, making life for him and those for whom he was responsible safer.
Devon Candler had a way of wearing clothes as though she were born in them.
Last time it had been loose, transparent white gauze, this time it was elegant, calf-length black silk with no sleeves and a modest dip of her neckline to just about an inch below the start of her stunning cleavage.
The silk was so soft it clung to every single curve from neck to calf, and it was spun with a shine so it gleamed and glittered over every deep swell, drawing attention to every movement.
She was wearing stilettos and no stockings.
The heels tightened her calves, raised the thrust of her backside and forced her shoulders back so her breasts were gorgeously prominent.
Liam felt as though he had just walked into a wet dream.
His blood boiled fast and hot and he began to grow hard just from the sight of her.
He gritted his teeth together, furious with his inability to keep his body under his own control when she was around.
He never behaved this way around women! Even if he was attracted to them, he didn’t get an instant hard-on just by the look of them.
Christ, that hadn’t happened to him since high school and here she’d already done it to him twice.
More, if he counted just thinking about her over the past couple of days.
“Are you going out?” he asked roughly, forcing himself back on task as he registered the formality of her attire, as opposed to the way it clung to her semi-erect nipples.
“Yes. I have a business dinner date,” she informed him, lowering her eyes.
Lowering. And lowering. Then they climbed back up, slowly but surely, after giving him a very thorough once-over that singed just about every hair on his body.
Did the woman have any idea how much raw sexuality she exuded?
Was she purposely playing some kind of game?
Looking for a fantasy with a bodyguard like in some cheap Hollywood film?
If so, he’d be setting her straight damn quick.
She was hot, but she wasn’t hot enough to burn away his integrity or his moral sense of self.
“You shouldn’t leave the house until we’ve finished with our initial insertion, worked out a schedule, and begun to comprehend how you maneuver throughout the day, I thought I made that clear when we signed the contract.”
“I’m not about to hold you responsible for my life when you’ve only been here for ten minutes. I’ll be gone for three hours at most. You’ll hardly notice my absence.”
“Trust me, I will,” he assured her darkly, standing straighter to brace himself on both feet in the doorframe, as if he had every intention of blocking her from leaving.
“You’ll never leave this house without a full escort.
I’ll determine the meaning of the word ‘full,’ by the way.
The minute you signed that contract, Devon, you became my responsibility, and I take my responsibilities very seriously. ”
“As any good leader must do. I understand that. However, this is an important meeting and I won’t cancel.”
“Then I have no choice but to change my clothes and accompany you. Flores will attend also. I need the others here for now, but in the future you’ll have anywhere from two to four of us near you at all times when away from the house.
” He reached up to touch the nearly invisible patch of pink under his ear.
“Flores. I need you dressed and prepped VIP, ASAP, copy?”
“Give me ten, Leader,” she responded.
“Gordon.”
“Leader?”
“Go over the limo with a comb, ASAP.”
“Copy that.”
“Will my team be lodging in the east wing?” Liam asked Devon. “I assumed that since that wing is the farthest from your private quarters, you’d prefer it. I’ll want a west wing room, however. I’ll sleep better if I’m within shouting distance of you.”
“You have the run of the house, Mr. Nash. I gave you my exclusions. All else is open to you and your personnel, including the recreation facilities and the training room. I’m certain you will enjoy them.”
“It’s Liam,” he said, disliking her use of the formality for some reason. “That’s kind of you, but we have facilities at the NHK compound, and after this initial week, I will be the only one living here 24/7.”
“Then I invite you to use whatever would make you feel at home, Liam.”
It was quite an invitation, being made in that dress with that purring, throaty pitch of voice she had.
Not to mention that certain way she stood, hands roaming her belly, hips or thighs in minute, absently erotic movements.
The double entendre in her invitation couldn’t be a mistake of his mind.
He ignored the physiological responses of his throbbing body and decided to set her straight right off the bat.
He glanced around and then entered the room so he could close the door.
“I hope I’m not overstepping myself, Devon,” he began as politely as he could manage.
“I just want to make sure you understood that this is a business arrangement. I keep business and pleasure absolutely separate. Do you understand?” He gave her a meaningful look, hoping she’d get it and that would be the end of her innuendo.
“I see,” she mused with one of those mysteriously compelling smiles. “And you think I don’t adhere to that same ethic, Liam?”
Abruptly put on the spot, Liam cleared his throat. “It’s just that there seems to be this … sometimes I get the feeling that …”
“That there is a connection between us so arousing and disconcerting it’s like sucking on a lightning bolt?” she provided helpfully.
“I …” Liam leaned back against the door, as if something had deflated him halfway. “Yeah. That’s an accurate description,” he admitted with a low laugh.
“You needn’t worry,” she reassured him. “I am quite capable of maintaining boundaries. Did you think I would throw myself at you? Make a nuisance of myself?” She stepped forward and reached for her purse. “I find you to be a very vital and attractive man, Liam Nash, but you’re … not quite my type.”
That had just become a damn shame, Liam thought as his libido began to careen off its axis.
When she had stepped forward, her gown had shifted, and Liam had rapidly realized it was entirely transparent.
What the hell was it with this woman and her fabrics?
Didn’t she own anything that was more than a micron thick?
Liam swallowed hard as his eyes drifted over the shadowed curves of her breasts and their pronounced, jutting nipples; followed the span of her belly to her navel; then lower, only to find the silk had been tauntingly thickened with a thin crescent of embroidery that stretched from one hip to another, dipping dangerously low against bare and beautifully feminine places.
He knew she was naked beneath because there was no such embroidery along her side and he saw no sign of panties.
It made him wonder if there was any modesty to the rear of the gown.
Liam’s eyes darted back to her face, where that smile was still in place, but he instantly realized it was forced and that her face was flushed.
He shifted his gaze lower and saw her pulse beating rapidly in her throat.
Then he went lower again so he could reconcile what he’d just seen with something he already knew.
The thrust of those pretty, dark nipples was there because she was excited.
By him. Even though she claimed he was not her type.
Liam was moving before he even realized his intentions.
He reached for the hand on her purse and circled her wrist, using it to pull her closer.
Her heels tapped out two steps as she was compelled forward until she bumped into him like a car in a carnival ride.
They were chest to chest now, as Liam’s hand slid into the small of her back, his broad palm spreading open.
He could hear her breathing increasing in tempo.
He could feel the tips of her breasts rubbing against him.
He could also feel the pressure of her warm, taut belly along the shaft of his rigid cock.
“You come that willingly? You know almost nothing about me,” he managed to rough out. “You walk into my arms, with your body so exposed …”
“I know what I feel. And I know what you feel. For the moment, that is enough.”
“And everything we just said about working boundaries?” he asked hoarsely as her body snuggled tighter against him with just one little shift in the bend of her knee.
He groaned deeply, the feeling so much like a lock fitted with the perfect key.
Because he was such a big man, he had always considered the experience something that would be forever outside the realm of possibility for him.
He’d even thought people were overrating the sensation.
But he was now faced with the evidence of how shockingly wrong he’d been.
It shook him considerably, how incredible it felt to have her locked to the length of his body so perfectly.
It was eerie, how she seemed made to fit him.
His mind leapt ahead, wondering hotly in what other ways she might make a perfect fit for him.
The raw sexuality of the thought stabbed through him and Liam suddenly released Devon, stepping back so unexpectedly that she swayed for balance a moment. She caught herself by laying a hand on the security control console.
And then she laughed at him. But it was so bemused and kindly a sound that he felt no embarrassment.
“Liam,” she said, his name so inviting on her lips that he regretted letting her be so personal one moment, and then wouldn’t have it any other way the next.
“Why don’t we just relax as best we can around one another and acknowledge that it will be a challenge to maintain the boundaries we would normally impose on ourselves?
I don’t want to feel that I’ve broken my word if there should be,” she raised a palm, gently waving two fingers to indicate their close proximity, “lapses.”
“I disagree,” he snapped. “There will be no more lapses.”
Devon watched him turn sharply on his heel and leave the room, probably expending a mighty effort not to slam the door behind him.
She exhaled as if she hadn’t breathed in ages, sagging against the top of the control desk.
Lord, but that man had some powerful sex appeal.
The thing was, she didn’t think he knew it.
What she did know was that a man like Liam Nash was going to need an outlet for his volatile feelings, but he was going to have to put it off until after tonight’s meeting was over.
Since he didn’t appear to be the sort of man who took well to sitting on his temper for long periods of time, he would probably be a very dangerous person to be around come the end of the night.
Why that thought gave her such a thrill was completely beyond her.