ONE
Tuesday at six fifteen. That’s when Gabe MacIntosh’s patience officially expired.
He’d been listening to Natalie Udall argue her case for over an hour. The woman sure could talk. She sat in the office chair and swiveled the seat back and forth. Tapped her fingernails against the conference room table. Ignored the water bottle he put in front of her more than thirty minutes ago while she battled every point he made. Treated him to her whole I’m-a-pissed-off-woman routine while repeatedly making it clear she thought she was in charge.
Smart and sexy but so wrong.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, hoping to wrap up the discussion and move on to the protection part of the program. He had to get to work. Much more non-bodyguard time alone with her and it would be a race to see which one exploded first, his brain or his dick.
The whole mind-wandering thing was new to him. He’d never had trouble concentrating or staying focused during an operation. He’d been trained by the best. An untold amount of government money had been spent, years consumed, honing his skills and turning him into an ace sniper. He could hunker down in a field for hours with hostiles lurking nearby, almost stepping on him, and never make a sound. Not until he was ready. Not until he decided to unleash a rash of fury and fire.
With her, something shifted. He noticed too much. Thought about her when he should have been concentrating only on her safety. Everything about her reeled him in. The straight long blond hair he dreamed about wrapping around his hand while he entered her. The way her slight southern accent slipped in when she rushed her words or got really pissed off.
The first time they met she wore a suit. The skirt had hit just above her knees and had his brain misfiring as he dreamed about running his palms up those pale thighs. Wrapping those lean legs around his waist. Today, weeks later, she wore pants, but the impact on him didn’t lessen one bit.
No question the strong female type appealed to him. So did that body, fit yet curvy. Hips that would fit his hands. Every other part of her perfect for licking and tasting. He never fucked on a job. He viewed an assignment as just that, a file he memorized and a body he watched over. Emotionless and straightforward. But with her he saw a woman, smart-mouthed, determined not to be a victim, competent and hard to scare.
So fucking hot.
But he’d been hired to protect her and that put her on the off-limits list . . . no matter what his dick thought.
She’d left her black-ops position with the CIA after a lengthy negotiation through her attorney, and an extraction agreement stored in a vault somewhere proved it. The pages of legalese spelled out her rights and responsibilities, and acted as a supposed guarantee that she would not be harmed. They both knew better. A pile of papers wouldn’t stop some ticked-off asshole in power from taking her out. From deciding she knew too much or made a wrong move.
Back when she had a job she’d been brave and determined. Refused to take a seat when the idiot men in her office had insisted she be quiet and blend in. That kind of shit made enemies. Which was why she needed him right now. Just for a short time. His presence as bodyguard added some assurance no one could get to her. That was the theory anyway.
Now he just had to convince her of his value.
ONE
Tuesday at six fifteen. That’s when Gabe MacIntosh’s patience officially expired.
He’d been listening to Natalie Udall argue her case for over an hour. The woman sure could talk. She sat in the office chair and swiveled the seat back and forth. Tapped her fingernails against the conference room table. Ignored the water bottle he put in front of her more than thirty minutes ago while she battled every point he made. Treated him to her whole I’m-a-pissed-off-woman routine while repeatedly making it clear she thought she was in charge.
Smart and sexy but so wrong.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, hoping to wrap up the discussion and move on to the protection part of the program. He had to get to work. Much more non-bodyguard time alone with her and it would be a race to see which one exploded first, his brain or his dick.
The whole mind-wandering thing was new to him. He’d never had trouble concentrating or staying focused during an operation. He’d been trained by the best. An untold amount of government money had been spent, years consumed, honing his skills and turning him into an ace sniper. He could hunker down in a field for hours with hostiles lurking nearby, almost stepping on him, and never make a sound. Not until he was ready. Not until he decided to unleash a rash of fury and fire.
With her, something shifted. He noticed too much. Thought about her when he should have been concentrating only on her safety. Everything about her reeled him in. The straight long blond hair he dreamed about wrapping around his hand while he entered her. The way her slight southern accent slipped in when she rushed her words or got really pissed off.
The first time they met she wore a suit. The skirt had hit just above her knees and had his brain misfiring as he dreamed about running his palms up those pale thighs. Wrapping those lean legs around his waist. Today, weeks later, she wore pants, but the impact on him didn’t lessen one bit.
No question the strong female type appealed to him. So did that body, fit yet curvy. Hips that would fit his hands. Every other part of her perfect for licking and tasting. He never fucked on a job. He viewed an assignment as just that, a file he memorized and a body he watched over. Emotionless and straightforward. But with her he saw a woman, smart-mouthed, determined not to be a victim, competent and hard to scare.
So fucking hot.
But he’d been hired to protect her and that put her on the off-limits list . . . no matter what his dick thought.
She’d left her black-ops position with the CIA after a lengthy negotiation through her attorney, and an extraction agreement stored in a vault somewhere proved it. The pages of legalese spelled out her rights and responsibilities, and acted as a supposed guarantee that she would not be harmed. They both knew better. A pile of papers wouldn’t stop some ticked-off asshole in power from taking her out. From deciding she knew too much or made a wrong move.
Back when she had a job she’d been brave and determined. Refused to take a seat when the idiot men in her office had insisted she be quiet and blend in. That kind of shit made enemies. Which was why she needed him right now. Just for a short time. His presence as bodyguard added some assurance no one could get to her. That was the theory anyway.
Now he just had to convince her of his value.
