For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (3 page)

Her thick black lashes fluttered. “Owe you? I owe you
nothing and this is my workplace. Call me Ms. Halifax or, if you must,
Charlize. Otherwise get out.”

Ouch
.

“But you do owe me, Charlize. You owe me one great big
apology.” He knew his grin pissed the hell out of her, he just didn’t care.
Watching her get riled up was too much fun.

“You cheated,” she said, tossing her hair, which didn’t
move, contained as it was in its bun.

“I don’t cheat.”

“Well you did. You didn’t tell me you were some kind of
Karate champion, self-defense instructor. It was never a fair bet.”

He took a step toward her, well aware she’d have to tip her
head back to maintain eye contact. “It’s Judo, and unfair is not the same as
cheating. My entire point was that you challenge people whose capabilities you
know nothing about. Ergo, I proved my point.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Ergo,
I win.”

She smiled over her small white teeth. “Oh in that case,
fine. I apologize, Mr. Crowe. I’m deeply, deeply sorry that you’re a
Neanderthal and that it caused you offense to have it pointed out.”

She grinned, shallow smile lines turning her face into
something so precious it almost hurt to look at her. A real smile. She enjoyed
bantering with him. So she did have a sense of humor buried somewhere under all
that sass.

This was going to be fun.

“Apology accepted. Let’s talk shop then.”

Her smile dropped and he repressed his laugh. Yeah this girl
wanted to fight. Ached for it. He could smell it in the tension of her muscles.
The way she jumped on any opening he gave her. He’d caught a sense of how
things were for her when Bob showed him around. Too much stress and no play for
the uptight she-cat. She needed either a heavy, sweaty fight or an
earth-rocking orgasm. He knew which he’d rather deliver.

Shit
.

He shifted. Just thinking about this woman moaning
breathlessly against him made him harden in his pants.
Cabbage
pizza
,
kidneys
on
toast
… Yep she even had him resorting to
tactics he’d used during his horny teen years.

“Perfect,” she said and took a step back, resting her pert
round ass on her glass desk. “Why don’t you tell me what you can do for me?”

He’d start by ripping her long, shapely legs right out of
those pantyhose then he’d—

Spam
and
ice
cream
.

Ice cream trickling down the inside of her calf.
Shit
.
He took a breath that expanded his chest. “Well I’d like to make a more
comprehensive assessment, but as of now I’d like to call in my team. Get
another three guards at the front and at least two more inside.”

She uncrossed her legs, enough surprise crossing her
features to let him know she’d doubted his professionalism.

“Then there’s your antique security system, which needs an
upgrade as soon as possible—considering the unsettled climate within the
organization. I’d even suggest rethinking your IT security practices.”

Her lips pulled to the side and she nodded. “I was thinking
that myself. I’m the CEO and I’m pretty sure my eight-year-old cousin could
hack my computer.” She glanced up at him. “So how much would all this cost us?”

“I’ll put together a proposal.”

“Thanks, that would be helpful.” Her features softened.

His thoughts scattered again. Charlize all accessible really
did send him Neanderthal. Just wanted to get her back over his shoulder but
this time—

Damn better when she hisses
.

“There’s one more thing. I heard there was some kind of
attempted attack on you today?”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t call getting smacked upside the
back of the head with a rock ‘attempted’ but—”

“What, you were actually hit?” His muscles contracted and he
stalked toward her. “Were you hurt?”

She blinked, leaning farther back onto the desk. “I got a
bump, that’s all.”

“That’s not acceptable. It won’t happen again. I’m placing
you under personal protection until further notice.”

Charlize leaped up to stand straight, bringing her body
flush with his. “You’re what? You can’t place me under your anything.”

He bent closer, tipping her chin with his finger. “I can.
From now on you’ll have twenty-four-hour protection.”

Charlize jerked her chin away, her gaze narrowing. She
studied him then her eyes widened again. “Oh I get it. And who protects me?
You, Connor?”

She placed her palm on his chest and her touch branded him
right through his shirt.

“Will you be protecting me 24/7?” Her hand ran to his
shoulder and a half-smile teased the corners of her lips. “Let me guess, you’ll
be with me night and day. Giving me your personal protection. Hell, I guess you’ll
have to watch me sleep, watch me in the shower…”

A lump moved in his throat and raging breath blew out his
nose.

“Is that right, Connor? Will you protect me so closely you’ll
practically be inside me?”

A low growl rumbled in his throat and his hand covered hers,
pressing it deeper against the fabric of his shirt as if her skin could
dissolve the material.

“Yeah I thought so.” Her self-satisfied smile fizzled out as
she met his gaze.

She’d played him but it looked as if she’d just figured this
frying pan was a little too deep to crawl out of.

She must be hungry for trouble today. Connor moved as if he
were about to twitch right out of his skin. Charlize pressed herself against
the desk. She’d told herself she was teaching him a lesson but who was she
kidding? Really she just kept getting distracted by the throbbing of her pussy,
pulsing against the seam of her pantyhose.

He inched closer until his hips were less than an inch away
from hers.
Crap
. That throbbing in her pantyhose out-screamed every
single other thing going on in her body. What a day to go without underwear.
After the gym her panties had no longer felt clean, as damp as they were, and
she’d forgotten to pack a fresh pair in her gym bag. Big mistake. She could
feel the air touching her in a place that should be covered but remained vulnerable,
covered only by a layer of sheer nylon hose.

He placed his hands on either side of her hips, caging her
in. “No, Charlize. I’ll protect you because you can’t seem to do it yourself.”

The sweet spice of his breath touched her tongue when she
inhaled—tempted her to stick it out, put it anywhere she could reach as long as
it was on him.

“But if you want me inside you, all you got to do is ask,
kitten. Ask and I’ll fill you—I’ll fill you so hard you’ll lose every thought
in that tightly wound mind.”

Her chest heaved and her fast-pumping blood made her breasts
heavy and her nipples hard, but worse it made her clit turn hypersensitive, as
if she might come if she so much as rocked her hips the right way. Jesus, he
didn’t need to fill her to make her mind unravel.

He’d done that with just a few words.

Her knees moved as if they had minds of their own, spreading
as if on strings. Connor growled and stepped in closer, his wide hips pushing
her thighs farther. He glided her skirt easily up her shiny hose. She planted
her hands on him, feeling his muscles ripple, wanting to touch more. He glanced
down and his nostrils flared, his hand moving to the semi-exposed center of her
crotch. He cupped her and she arched her back, her pussy tightening
uncontrollably.

His fingers moved against the translucent fabric, pushing it
between her slick lips. She moaned, pleasure tightening that place of bundled
nerves. He rubbed her clit with firm, hard strokes then a little farther down,
pushing into her entrance as far as her dampened pantyhose would allow.
Charlize gasped.
Oh
sweet
mother
… The rough seam of the
hose rocked against her clit with every shallow thrust inside her. She couldn’t
control her body’s reaction. Everything was happening so quickly, she couldn’t
stop it, she was almost there. One more touch and—

A knock sounded on the door. Charlize’s head snapped back up
and the fog parted. Shock hit her like ice to the face.

“Get off me,” she snarled. Her palm connected with Connor’s
cheek with a fleshy clap.

Her palm tingled and her heart hammered as if its goal were
to crack a few ribs. He stiffened, went completely rigid, but he backed away
from her.

She leaped up and straightened her clothes. The knock
sounded again and she struggled to bring her ragged breathing under control.
She clasped her stomach with one hand, not daring to look at Connor, then
rounded her desk to sit in her black leather chair.

“Come in,” she called.

She smoothed her hands over her hair. Fuck, she’d slapped
Connor. Like actually physically assaulted him. She kept her gaze focused on
the door. What the hell was going on with her? Losing it and freaking out as
soon as things slipped a touch out of control. She’d turned into a horrible
bitch she couldn’t recognize. Not to mention she’d just acted like a complete
wanton bimbo at work. Tears stung her eyes and she bit her lip.

The door opened and she forced back tears. Gregory entered,
file in hand. His gaze flicked from her strained expression to Connor, and she
wondered what Gregory saw on Conner’s face. She didn’t have the nerve to look,
afraid of what she might see. Gregory walked to her desk with a swing to his
stride. His gaze settled on her like syrup, a look that said I-know-what-you’ve-been-up-to-you-slut.

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” he said.

Charlize cleared her throat, the skin on the entire upper
half of her body burning with mortification. “It’s fine, Mr. Crowe was just
leaving.” She glanced up and finally looked at him. His expression spewed
volcanic fury—hot enough to turn her desk into a gooey glass sculpture. Yet
under all that fire, the hurt in his eyes hit her square in the chest. Turned
out even cavemen had feelings.

She really was a bitch.

Better he know now, better he keep his distance, better save
them both the trouble. Save them both the pain. “Thank you for your time, Mr.
Crowe, but I don’t think I’ll be needing any further assistance.”

A stiff, ironic smile drew his lips into a line. He nodded.

“Goodbye, Ms. Halifax.”

* * * * *

Connor climbed inside and slammed the heavy door of his ’69
Dodge Challenger. He turned the key and revved the engine. The motor roared
like a demon. The seats vibrated with the deep, guttural rumble and he jerked
the gear shift.

His fingers curled around the knob and he stopped, dropping
his head back against the head rest. Accelerated blood flow still shot toward
his cock, oblivious to the fact he’d just been shot down—big-time.

The she-cat hit him.

He touched his still-hot cheek and clicked his jaw. She knew
how to put muscle behind a strike that’s for sure. A little technique and she’d
be a real fighter. Probably a good thing she didn’t have formal training. Once
again she’d flown off the handle needlessly. One
no
was all it took with
him. The only boundary he’d never push.

Connor rolled his neck then looked over his shoulder and
spun the car out of the parking space in reverse. White dust gathered behind
him and he sped out of the lot, heading directly for the highway. He’d need
another round at Alicia’s just to discharge the buzz.

Charlize might think she could hide her sensuality behind
sharp-edged layers but slap or no slap, he’d seen the way she’d looked at him
when she’d walked in. It was all he could do to remember they weren’t alone as
she’d devoured him with her eyes. He hadn’t read her invitation wrong either.
She’d been the one to part her thighs. Had been hot and wet underneath those
pantyhose…

He groaned and wound down his window, letting the air cool
the moisture on his skin. He’d have put her reaction down to nothing more than
a bad case of control-freak-itis, if—if her big almond-shaped eyes hadn’t
filled with tears. There was more going on in her uptight little head than she
let on.

Still she was trouble. The kind of woman who’d mess with his
head and his life, given the chance, because she’d never know what she wanted.
He rested his elbow half out the window. Maybe it was a good thing she’d turned
down protection. No chance he could protect her without the situation turning
out exactly as she’d said. Getting close to her wasn’t what he’d intended when
he’d volunteered to be her bodyguard, but damn—when she’d painted the scenario
of how he’d watch her, he’d known it was true. He’d be on her like a tattoo.

His gut clenched and he rubbed his jaw. Unless she agreed to
help she’d be on her own. Something told him unless she did something to calm
the hell down, Charlize unsupervised wasn’t a good thing. Connor used his turn
signal and changed lanes.

He could assign someone else to her if she’d allow that
much.

The image of Charlize with another man at her back, another
man watching her, another man protecting her, flashed in his mind and his grip
tightened on the wheel. No chance in hell.

She was his—only his.

* * * * *

The door clicked shut behind Gregory. Charlize sank her face
into her palms. There wasn’t time for this, the exec meeting was minutes away
and she had to get herself together. She breathed deeply. No thinking about
Connor. No thinking about his cocky smile, the hot, hard touch of his hand
between her legs… She flipped open the file and gazed down at the paperwork—
paper
.
She lifted out the solitary white sheet with its paragraph of figures and
simple bar graph.

Damn
it
all
.

One page. One freaking page and not what she’d requested.
Gregory had provided her with the same information she’d been given before.
Overall salary analysis—no breakdowns. Her chest constricted, hampering air to
her lungs. Her eyes stung with new tears. She would not cry. Would not cry at
work. This is what they wanted—to see her break.

Frank and Gregory and their bunch of boys who thought she
had no business leading them. They wanted her to back down and if not, they’d
take her down by making her look useless.

They’d soon see she wouldn’t go down so easily.

* * * * *

Charlize leaned against the high-backed chair at the head of
the conference table and watched the scene. It was kind of like watching
monkeys fling poop across a boardroom. Fifteen suited-up executives crammed
around the table, all talking over one another. She’d realized after the third consecutive
interruption this meeting was simply a meticulously choreographed murder of her
credibility. She’d never had the chance to prove anything. Not even banging her
shoe on the table could capture the room’s occupants’ attention. She looked
powerless.

Incompetent. An impotent leader.

Instead of fighting a losing battle, she’d sat back and
watched. Who yelled the loudest, who was deliberately contentious, who was in
on Frank’s game.

Neville, the director of manufacturing operations, leaped
from his chair and leveled his finger at Gregory. “How can we achieve anything
when our budgets have been slashed? I can barely afford to—”

“And my team is massively understaffed,” Sales Director
Darren shouted.

Beside her, Frank rose, fastening a shiny button at the
waist of his impeccable black jacket. Charlize sucked the inside of her cheek.
She’d been waiting for him to make his move.

Frank raised his hands, his diamond cuff links flashed. “Everybody
please, this is not getting anywhere,” he said, voice firm but not elevated.

Even the loudest of the voices quieted immediately.

What a surprise.

Frank bowed his head toward the desk then looked back up and
pressed his fingertips together. “If I could have everyone’s attention for a
moment. I have a solution that could pull Halifax back from the brink.”

The murmurs died off and everyone in the room directed their
attention toward Frank’s distinguished figure.

“For the past months I have been investigating strategies to
stem the massive losses Halifax is facing each month and finally I have hit on
the solution.” He picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The
projection screen at the rear of the room lit up. “WHM is a premier offshore
manufacturing company and I have a negotiated contract to produce Halifax’s
current hardware components at one fifth of our current production cost.”

Sneaking
backstabber
.

Charlize’s stomach sank into a bitter pit of bile. She
swallowed. Not only had he done this behind her back, his words were a jab at
her—implying he was doing what she hadn’t—but worst of all his actions brought
them one step closer to losing the last of Halifax’s soul. More of her uncle’s
tactics. If in doubt, sell it or get it done offshore. Never mind none of these
tactics had worked, never mind that sales were dropping, never mind their brand
had all but disintegrated.

Frank continued, flicking graphs across the screen. “This
would immediately up profits and slash costs dramatically.” He clicked to a new
slide. “Here you see Halifax would be out of debt and back in the black in
twenty-four months.”

Charlize studied the graph on the screen, which was
decisively vague as to how those estimates were calculated. Frank clicked again
and the bile in her stomach started to boil.

Assholes
!

He’d used the very reports she’d asked for—the reports they’d
withheld from her but that he now used to articulate his point.

“Unfortunately this manufacturer is in high demand and we
must seize the opportunity before our competitors do. All they require is the approval
of our CEO and we can begin planning immediately for a stronger Halifax
Enterprises.”

Frank turned to Charlize. He did nothing more than look at
her but she saw the triumph in the smug arch of his forehead as clearly as if
he’d leaned over and whispered “checkmate” in her ear. She curled and uncurled
her fingers.

All heads turned toward her. She needed to act. But first
she’d have to stall. At least long enough to think of a better action than to
leap forward, grab the remote and jam it up Frank’s closest orifice.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken but I would imagine that one-fifth of
production costs must equate to some reduction in quality materials and
workmanship?”

A series of voices rose back up and drowned out the end of
her words. Charlize pressed her lips together and breathed heavily through her
nose.

Frank raised his hand and silence fell again. “Now,
Charlize, I understand your concern. The reality is we no longer have the
luxury of remaining static in our production practices, we need to move
forward.” He slid a folder across the slick glass surface of the conference
table. “Time is a crucial factor. It’s all been thoroughly investigated. Our
legal team has vetted and approved the contract. All you need to do is sign at
the sticky tabs and you can save the company.”

Charlize gazed at the folder then up at the fifteen faces
studying her—waiting to see what she’d do. She looked at Frank. “Well this is
certainly a compelling analysis you’ve put together, Frank.”