Chapter 9
Kara
Her face stayed with me all the way down the stairs. Lips parted like she had more to say, green eyes flashing in the light. That hair, red and loose, made me want to fist it, test the softness against the grip it would take.
What the fuck was I thinking, pushing her like that? I prided myself on my control. I knew very well how important consent was, and yet—stupid. I'd make it right.
She was different than most women I’d worked with.
Stubborn but soft. Not just in shape, though the curve of her hips and the line of her waist had been hard to ignore every time I lifted her in my arms. There was a give to her body, a heat that stayed with me, dangerous in its persistence.
Even the brush of her breasts against my chest when I’d set her down had been a reminder that she wasn’t built for the kind of trouble she was looking for.
Her suitcase sat at one end of the sofa. I grabbed the handle, then hooked the strap of her bag over my shoulder.
Ellie stepped out of the kitchen, a fresh ice pack in her hand. “Tell her to keep that foot elevated. Fifteen on, fifteen off, and tell her not to fall asleep with it on.”
“Got it.” I took it from her, the cold biting through the plastic.
She smirked. “She’s not gonna like it.”
“She’ll live,” I said, though I knew she was right. She didn’t strike me as someone who enjoyed being told to sit still. This was going to be fun.
Back upstairs, I took a deep breath, letting my mind wander back to the rule I’d set for myself years ago. Never get involved with clients. Not ever. Not since… No. That was a place I didn’t need to go.
I knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. She was on her feet. Most of her weight was on one leg, the other bent slightly to keep her ankle off the floor. One hand rested on the polished dresser like she was using it for balance.
“You’re not supposed to be on that ankle,” I said, setting her bags down.
She glanced behind her toward the bathroom door. “Yeah. Had to go to the bathroom.”
I crossed to her, slipping an arm around her waist before she could move on her own. “You should have waited.”
Her arm came up around my shoulders as I guided her the rest of the way toward the bed. The short walk was slow, her good foot shuffling forward in small steps. “Feels a little better,” she said. “I think I can manage from here.”
“Not a chance.” I tightened my arm around her before she could argue, and eased her down onto the mattress within reach of her belongings.
She looked up at me and held my gaze. The air shifted in a way I felt in my chest. Her knees were close enough that my thigh brushed them when I moved. She didn’t look away.
The green in her eyes deepened under the warm light, and the faint part in her lips pulled at every bit of control I had. I wanted to taste her lips again, taste her skin, her—
"I apologize for what happened a few minutes ago. I was thoughtless, focused on—" I shook my head. "No excuses. I crossed a line. I should have stopped when you said the word. It won't happen again."
Her hand closed around my forearm, deliberate enough to undo me. She leaned forward, pulling me just enough to make the rest feel inevitable.
I bent toward her, and her chin lifted in answer.
The first press of her mouth was warm, soft, but it didn’t stay gentle for long.
She met me with an urgency that rivaled the heat in my belly.
Her hand came to rest against my breast. I could feel the quick rhythm of her breathing, the faint catch in it when I deepened the kiss.
Her lips moved with mine, the heat between us building fast.
It would have been too easy to keep going. Too easy to let the feel of her take over the part of my brain that knew better. I forced myself to pull back, my hand sliding away from her face.
“No,” I said, more to myself than to her. My body screamed to pin her down, but I forced the space between us. “You were right, before. We shouldn’t. This situation is too dangerous to mix business with pleasure.”
She held my eyes for a long second, and I caught the flicker of disappointment there. She didn’t argue, though. Just gave a small nod, her lips pressing together like she was keeping her own thoughts behind them.
The space between us felt colder already, but I stayed where I was for a moment longer, making sure she knew I meant what I’d said, even if I wished I didn’t have to.
I nodded toward the ice pack beside her. “Ellie says fifteen minutes on, fifteen off. Keep it elevated, and don’t fall asleep with it on.”
She glanced at it, then back at me. “Got it.”
“Goodnight, Sabine,” I said, meaning to turn away, but she drew her lower lip between her teeth and let the tip of her tongue trace it as she released it.
Knowing I shouldn’t, I leaned in and caught her mouth again. This kiss was slower, lighter, but it still sent a flame through me that I felt all the way down. She responded in kind, her breath warm against mine.
I pulled back before it could deepen, my hands falling to my sides. “No more. Not tonight.”
Her faint smile didn’t fool me. She wanted more. Hell, so did I.
“Do you need anything else?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Call out if you change your mind. One of us will be on guard at all times.”
I crossed to the door, my hand on the frame before I looked back. “Stay off that ankle, Sabine. Get some rest.”
Her eyes held mine for a moment before I stepped into the hall and closed the door behind me. The air felt cooler out here, but it didn’t do much to slow the pulse in my throat. I stopped halfway down the runner, drawing a long breath in through my nose and letting it out slow.
Two doors down, I keyed into my own room. I went straight to the bathroom, turned the tap, and splashed cold water over my face. It stung, but that was the point.
I caught my reflection in the mirror. “Get it together, girl,” I told the face staring back. “She’s your job. Do not fall for this woman. Get your shit together.” The sound of my voice in the quiet was grounding, even if it didn’t wipe out the heat that had been there minutes ago.
I shut off the water, dried my face, and left my room, pulling the door shut behind me. The hallway was quiet. I let my eyes linger on Sabine’s closed door for a moment before turning toward the stairs.
A faint draft touched my arm as I reached the foyer, pulling my attention to the front door. It was open just enough to show the dark line of the night beyond.
Every sense sharpened. My right hand dropped to my sidearm, thumb working the snap on the holster. I crossed the last few feet in silence, my focus fixed on the narrow gap.
I eased the door open, muscles ready for whatever might be waiting.
Cam stood on the porch, shoulder propped against a column, a cigarette between her fingers. The tip glowed as she took a drag, smoke curling into the air above her.
I exhaled. “Damn, Cam. You had me on high alert. Close the door when you come out, all right? And tell someone.”
She gave a slight nod, exhaling smoke. “Told Alex. Not like she’s not watching every move anyway.” She lifted her free hand and waved lazily toward the security camera above the corner of the porch.
“Still. Don’t make it a habit,” I said.
She smirked and held out the cigarette. “Sure, boss. You want one?”
I shook my head. “No thanks.”
Cam shrugged and took another pull, the smoke drifting between us as I stepped back inside. I crossed the foyer and made my way into the kitchen. Ellie was at the counter, stacking the last of the canned goods into a cupboard.
“Good day’s work,” I said, leaning against the doorway for a second.
She glanced over her shoulder with a quick smile. “Not bad. We got everything we need for a while.”
“Go take a load off,” I told her. “Alex and I have the night shift covered.”
She closed the cupboard and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Get some rest. You’re off duty.”
She nodded, already looking like she might take me up on it. “All right. You know where to find me.”
I gave her a short nod in return before turning back toward the foyer, pushing through the heavy door on the far side.
The muted hum of electronics met me first, followed by the low glow of dozens of screens.
Two walls were lined with monitors, their feeds stacked in tight grids.
Every angle of the property was here, each one shifting slightly with the movement of the night.
Alex sat in a black rolling chair in front of the central bank, a paperback in one hand. She looked up as I came in, setting the book on the desk. “She tucked in all right?”
“Yeah,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “She’s set for the night.”
She nodded and swiveled slightly, attention back on the screens. I dropped into the chair beside her, the cushion adjusting under my weight.
My eyes moved across the feeds. Ellie was heading upstairs, one hand on the railing.
Another window showed Cam still on the porch, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark.
The west gate camera was quiet, only the faint sway of branches in the wind.
The courtyard feed picked up a shift in shadow as a security light clicked on.
Then my gaze landed on the top corner monitor. Her room.
Sabine was moving slowly on the screen, standing beside the bed with her weight balanced on one foot.
Her hands worked at the waistband of her pants, easing them over her hips and down her legs.
When the fabric reached her ankle, she sat on the edge of the mattress and carefully stretched the cuff around the injured joint.
Her fingers caught the hem of her sweater. The fabric lifted over her head in one smooth pull, falling to the bed behind her. A lacy bra, pale against her skin, framed the fullness of her breasts. The color matched the small scrap of lace at her hips.
I knew I should look away, but I felt frozen, unable to tear my eyes away.
Her hands reached behind her to unhook the clasp. The straps slipped from her shoulders, and the bra fell away, baring her to the room. The curve and weight of her full breasts drew my eyes without mercy, the pale skin and soft rise catching the light from the bedside lamp.
She stood again, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and drawing them down. The fabric traced over her hips and thighs before falling to the floor. Every line of her was full and unapologetic, from the dip of her waist to the flare of her hips.
Turning slightly, she bent at the waist to reach her suitcase. The zipper rasped open, and her position gave me an unbroken view of her bottom, round and high, the shape enough to lock my breath in my chest. Heat curled low, tight, and I shifted in my chair before I realized I was doing it.
Beside me, Alex gave a low whistle. “Hot damn, she’s gorgeous.”
I nodded without looking away.
She pulled a nightgown from the suitcase and shook it loose, then let it fall over her head. The fabric settled around her hips, hiding everything that had my pulse running faster. I exhaled slowly, my eyes still fixed on the screen as if the image might shift back to what it had been.
I finally pulled my eyes away from the screen long enough to glance at Alex. Her eyes were fixed on the same feed, her mouth curved in something between a smirk and focus.
“I should have been the one to tuck her in,” she said, voice low. “So I could taste those lips.”
The words landed without surprise. She’d seen it, then. I leaned back a little, keeping my own expression neutral. “Maybe you should. It was nothing anyway, just a moment of weakness.”
She flicked a look my way, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Yeah. She’s a walking moment of weakness, I’ll give you that.”
I didn’t answer. Because she was right. And if I let myself think too long about her body on that screen, I might forget every line I’ve drawn. Watching her like this, knowing how close I’d already come. Restraint was a thin thread, and threads snapped under the right pressure.
She propped a pillow under her ankle, the ice pack balanced against it, a book resting in her lap. She shifted once, adjusting the blanket so it covered her legs. The lamp beside her cast a warm circle over the pages, her hair falling forward as she began to read.
I told myself to stay focused, to remember what I’d already decided in the hall. She was the job, not a complication I could afford. But the longer I watched, the more I knew it wasn’t just me who’d have to be careful.
We all might need to guard our hearts with her.