For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (15 page)

“You okay?” he said and kept hold of her elbows.

She didn’t look at him, couldn’t face his treacherous eyes.

“I’m fine. I need to get to work.”

“Charlize, don’t be like this,” he whispered, his voice like
thick, rich honey dripping over her.

“How should I be?” She spat the words. Her eyes burned with
angry tears.

He released her. “I wanted to make sure everything is okay
with Jason. Make sure you’re comfortable with him.”

“Well he’s not going to be sleeping in my house—or in my
bed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You’re fucking right he’s not.”

His eyes grew stormy with something dark and possessive.
Something she hadn’t seen from him before. But then she knew she’d pushed for
his reaction with that statement. If she was honest, she’d have to admit she
wanted this. Wanted to see that he still thought of her as his.

Why was it she needed that knowledge, craved it?

She let him get too close. He’d gotten in her blood and
something told her he was there to stay.

His gaze traced over her, owned her with one sweep. Made her
wet and ready for him… Just. Like. That.

“Come, we need to have a chat.”

She pressed a hand to her belly. “I said I have to work.”

“You come with me or we do this in the hallway, it’s up to
you.”

She clenched her teeth. A scene between them wouldn’t be
pretty and she’d promised Alicia no more tantrums in her gym. She nodded and he
turned and opened the door to the storage room across the hall. She followed
him inside and tried not to be swamped by the fact they were only two feet away
from each other or that he’d locked the door after them.

Racks lined the walls, stuffed with bags of balls and
equipment, but Connor took up most of the space.

“I know you’re angry. But you need to understand your safety
is still my number-one priority. I need to know it’s yours too.”

“I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll let Jason follow
me around—if that will keep you off my back.”

He stepped closer, eliminated the gap between them
completely. “That’s where you’re wrong, kitten. Your back is still mine. I’m
going to protect it until I know it’s safe. But I’ll give you your space.”

Charlize rubbed her arms, needing to do something with hands
that wanted to reach out and touch him. She should be angry. He still thought
he had the right to tell her how things were going to be, he still thought he
needed to babysit her. Yet somehow, knowing he cared brought her a sense of
relief. She wanted Connor to have her back. Couldn’t fool herself that she didn’t.

“There’s something you need to know.”

Her gaze flew from the racks and fixed on him in the muted
light. Shadows played across his stubbled jaw.

“More?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “The other day on the
way to your aunt’s birthday party someone followed us. I think it was Gregory.”

“What?” she whispered, a prickle of dread piercing her
stomach.

“There’s more to him than we knew. He has a history of
violence. Of attacking women. And women who have reported him in the past have
ended up missing.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed and staggered back against the
storeroom wall.

Connor grasped her elbows but she shook him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me—why didn’t you report this?”

“I did report it.”

“I spoke to Detective Schorts yesterday—he said I had
nothing to worry about.” She scrunched her forehead, trying to see through the
cloud of confusion.

“I asked him not to say anything. I didn’t want you to
worry.”

“You did what? You not only lied to me—you somehow got the
police to lie to me too?” Her head pounded. The ends of the control she’d been
struggling to hold on to slipped out of her grip. Tears burned trails over her
skin. She swallowed down the sobs. He already thought of her as weak. She hated
adding to that image by crying openly in the storeroom.

Connor’s features sagged with a look that made her stomach
burn.

“Don’t cry, baby, I never wanted to make you cry,” he
croaked.

“Well you have. Why would you do this?”

He grimaced, pressing his lips together as if speaking would
split his tongue. “It was that night—with the earthquake—when you panicked. I
didn’t want to see you get to that point again.”

He reached for her, wrapped his fingers around the tops of
her arms and this time she couldn’t pull away.

“Do you know what it did to me to see you like that, so
scared?” His breath rushed in and out, as if he’d been running. “You’re
managing a mutinous ship, the situation with your dad, getting attacked—it’s
too much to carry alone. I wanted to take some of the load.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. More tears streamed.
She couldn’t stop them. He was right, it was too much but he didn’t get why his
actions made her so angry. She needed someone to share the burden, not take it
away.

“I worry about you. Not just about your safety. I worry when
you’re stressed. I worry when you’re unhappy.”

His words leveled her world.

Her eyes snapped open and she saw him—saw him in a way that
would stay with her forever.

“I fucking worry about you not eating breakfast. I worry
about every damn little thing about you. I worry about you like I’ve never
worried about anything in my life. Because I care. I fucking care, Charlize. I
care so much it makes me scared. I don’t think you’re incapable of looking
after yourself—I just can’t help needing to make everything okay.”

He rubbed her arms, her skin burned beneath his touch.
Silence radiated between them. He held his chest high and tight, as if he was holding
his breath. Hers heaved.

We’re both fucked
.

She reached for him, curled her fingers into his tank, not
knowing what to do, what to say. Wondered how everything could feel so damn
right yet magnificently wrong. She could think of only one thing to do, one
thing that could say what words could not. She slammed her chest against his,
pulled his neck toward her and kissed him.

She sank her tongue into his mouth, held the back of his
head and kissed him with every bit of need, every inch of sorrow—every ounce of
desperate, defeated yearning she possessed. And it still wasn’t enough.

Until he kissed her back.

His control broke like a dam bursting through concrete. He
wrapped his arms around her and crushed her into him hard enough to hurt, hard
enough for her ribs to feel the pinch. Their teeth clashed, once, twice but
they couldn’t stop. Couldn’t gentle their passion. But that passion didn’t cure
anything. Kissing, clutching, squeezing didn’t ease the pain inside her chest.

Connor lifted her against him and she wrapped her legs
around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall. Their lips grew
hungrier, mouths opened wider, their tongues plunged deeper, became more
frantic.

She reached between them and pushed her hand into his
shorts, grasped him urgently, tugged his cock closer to where her legs
surrounded him. Connor supported her with one arm, grasped the stockings
between her thighs and tore them open then pushed her panties aside. She guided
his cock toward her but he beat her to her goal, pushed the thick head of his
cock between her folds.

He devoured her cry with his mouth and entered her in a
swift thrust that rocketed through her—then he fucked her against the wall. The
friction stung for an instant but there was no slowing down. Her body adjusted,
took him in as he bucked, thrust, pounded her with his cock. She held on,
clawed at him with her fingers, kissed him as if he were the only source of
oxygen in space.

Desperate, dirty, raw.

Somewhere deep under the crushing ecstasy of his thrusts she
knew this wasn’t a healthy way to fuck—like trying to screw your way through
someone’s skin. Trying to hold on to something so mindlessly that you lose
yourself. That you sink and drown. But they were both lost, neither one
themselves. Both holding on so tightly, with hands, mouths and bodies.

Every touch on her skin, every stroke inside her became
amplified by her rushing pulse, by the naked emotion swamping her. She
shattered with a pulsing orgasm, dug her nails into his shoulders and cried
into his mouth. He squeezed her ass in his hands and delivered his most
punishing thrusts, deep enough to hit her limits. His tongue moved in her mouth
and his body jerked. Her back batted against the wall. He spurted hot and deep
inside her, filled her with warmth, with peace.

He twitched, circled his hips against her. One hand moved to
her face, smoothed hair back from her cheeks. His kisses slowed but didn’t
stop. She stroked his shoulders, not wanting this to end, not wanting real life
to intrude.

The door shook next to her shoulder and he pulled back,
breaking the kiss.

“What’s going on in there?”

Charlize blinked and looked at Connor. The pleading look on
his face told her not to let go. Her feet slid to the floor.

“Open up,” Alicia called.

A lump rose in her throat, made it impossible to swallow.
She pushed on Connor’s chest and slid out from between him and the wall. His
hot cum seeped from between her thighs, moistened her panties and the edges of
her torn stockings. She tugged her dress down. The muscles between her ribs
felt squashed, as if a belt cinched across her torso.

Nothing had changed. It didn’t matter how much you wanted
someone if they were prepared to lie to you—betray you. No matter how much you
wanted to believe in the excuse. What happened—that was just goodbye.

She reached a shaky hand for the door handle and glanced at
Connor. He leaned against a rack, rubbed his hands over his scalp. She flicked
the latch and the door flew open.

Alicia scowled in at her. “Charlize? What the—?” She
stopped, her face contracting as she gazed at Charlize. “Are you all right?”

Charlize rubbed her arms, stepped around Alicia then ran as
fast as stilettos allowed. Jason waited at the door. He had her bag at his
feet. She’d forgotten she’d just left it abandoned in the hallway when Connor
caught her off guard.

Jason took one look at her and stepped forward. She shook
her head and walked straight out the doors toward his car. Jason rushed ahead
and opened the door and placed her bag on the floor. She slid inside and buckled
the seatbelt.

She covered her face with her palms and rested her head
against the headrest. What had she done? This mistake would haunt her for all
time. She dropped her hands, reached shaking fingers for her bag and pulled out
her compact.

The reflection she saw made her flinch. Swollen lips
surrounded by faded, smudged lipstick that hadn’t stood a chance against the
kind of making out she’d just put it through. Mascara left dirty streaks down
her cheeks. She looked like the morning after a bad night—she looked as if she’d
been used…hard.

Not far from the truth.

That invisible belt around her middle seemed to squeeze its
way to the next notch. The evidence of what they’d done still coated her
thighs. She touched up her makeup as best she could with powder and fresh
lipstick. Then she called Lia, told her she’d be late to work. She put her
phone back into her bag and leaned into the seat.

“Jason, there’s somewhere I need to go before work.”

“Of course, Ms. Halifax.”

Jason’s gaze flicked to the mirror when she gave him the
address but he made no comment. Good thing… She wasn’t asking for approval.

Charlize crossed her leg over her knee and waited for the
detective to close the door. Mark walked around her, lowered himself cautiously
into a worn leather chair and linked his fingers on the laminate surface of his
desk.

“I must admit I’m a little surprised to see you after our
conversation yesterday. Is everything all right, Ms. Halifax?”

She ran her gaze over him and noticed what she hadn’t the
last time she’d seen him, when she’d been too overwhelmed to pay attention—he
wasn’t too hard on the eyes. Maybe a little older than Connor and generally
softer. Scruffy brown hair and warm brown eyes. Not bad… No Connor Crowe but a
nice-looking guy. Another good-looking, lying bastard.

Aren’t they all
?

“I thought it was time we had a talk.” She felt her lips
thin, knew her smile must look as if it were cut from glass. “I want to know
what your relationship is with Connor Crowe and why you’ve withheld details of
my case from me at his request.”

Mark’s right cheek pulled in, as if he was chewing on it,
then he released a long, deep breath. “Ms. Halifax, I have not withheld
information pertaining to your attack or our progress—”

She held up her hand. “Please—I know about Gregory’s history
and I know you think he followed me—I’m done being treated like a child. I want
the truth.” She hooked her hands over her knee and leaned forward. “Now.”

Mark held her gaze and cleared his throat. “Connor and I were
partners. I’m sorry. I should’ve disclosed that relationship to you. And yes
Connor mentioned you had a lot to deal with and it affected the way I handled
your questions. But I meant what I said about not worrying about your
safety—with Connor protecting you I absolutely believe you’re safe.”

Charlize stroked her thumb over the hem of her dress where
the material rested on her knee. “Connor won’t be protecting me anymore.” Her
gaze flicked out the window. She couldn’t see him but she knew Jason waited for
her outside. She hadn’t allowed him to escort her into the building. “Well not
personally anyway.”

“He’s not?” Mark’s expression softened and his voice
lowered. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope this situation hasn’t affected your
relationship. I know he’s determined to protect you and if he’s not gone about
it the right way…” He paused and stared at her, as if he expected her to
interrupt. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

A secret about Connor? A no-I-don’t-care hovered on her lips
but the lie never emerged. She nodded and leaned closer.

“Connor hasn’t had a girlfriend since I’ve known him. I’m
not surprised if he’s forgotten how to do relationships.”

Her eyes widened. Had Connor told his ex-partner she was his
girlfriend? No…Mark must have drawn his own conclusions. But then Connor not
having a girlfriend in a long time was a whole other surprise. Charlize’s gaze
dropped to her hem. Of course not, why should he limit himself when the ladies
lined up for him. “I’m sure he’s been far too busy sowing his oats for that.”

“If he has, I wouldn’t know about it.” Mark’s chair creaked.

Charlize glanced up. Mark had leaned back, a suspicious-cop
look on his face.

“Exactly how much do you know about Connor? Do you even know
why he left the force?”

Charlize clamped her teeth shut. “No,” she whispered.

Mark watched her a moment then his gaze settled at some
point beyond her left shoulder. “Believe it or not there’s not a whole lot of
room for compassion in this job. We sign on to help people but most of the time
all we can do is stand behind red tape and watch the bad things happen.” Mark’s
voice drifted into a soft, far-away tone.

Charlize held her tongue and watched him speak.

“Five years ago we had a spree of rape-homicides, the worst
we’d ever seen. A vicious serial killer. Except he made a mistake—an
eighteen-year-old victim survived. We found her in a dumpster, strangled but
alive.”

A guilty, voyeuristic sensation settled over her. As if she
were spying on Connor’s past by listening to things he hadn’t told her himself.
Personal things.

“We never caught the fucker. The few opportunities we had to
get close we hit legal blocks—laws designed to protect rights that stopped us
from catching the bad guy. There was little we could do to protect the victim
either. Procedure and funding left her on her own.” He inhaled and exhaled
deeply and turned his attention back to her. “Connor refused to continue
playing the game. He wanted to really protect people. So he started Crowe
Security and his women’s self-defense classes to help women protect themselves.
In fact I think he started those classes just so Brooke could take them.”

Charlize stopped breathing.
Brooke
?
Indestructible-looking Amazon Barbie was the strangled girl? Her head swirled
with a mixture of emotions—pity for Brooke, admiration for Connor and the
sneaking, crawling jealousy she tried to ignore at the knowledge of all Connor
had done for another woman. The tiny, nasty voice that worried Connor was in
love with someone who wasn’t her.

“My point is, Charlize, he might be overprotective at times
but trust me—Connor’s heart is in the right place. He doesn’t toy with women
and he doesn’t hurt them.”

Her throat tightened but she took small breaths. How much
about him had she not bothered to ask? Too scared to let him in, she formed her
own opinions instead of seeing the real him. Like he’d said—was she so afraid
of what things might mean, she couldn’t see what they really were?

But did any of this matter? The fact remained he’d tried to
control her then he’d crossed her biggest line—he’d messed with her job. Didn’t
respect her right to a career.

“Good intentions aren’t enough. I won’t be with someone who
doesn’t value what I do, who doesn’t take my job seriously. Who doesn’t take me
seriously—who doesn’t think I’m capable.” She rubbed her throat with the palm
of her hand as if she could wipe away the lump inside. “He kept things about my
own company from me, he tried to tell me to stay away—that’s not respect. I can’t
be with a man who does that.”

“Shit…” Mark whispered. He leaned his arms on his desk and
bowed his head. After a moment, he looked up at her. “Okay so maybe Connor’s
not all-the-way to blame for that.”

Charlize frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I told him that if he wanted to protect you, he had to keep
you away from Halifax.” Mark’s face took on the look of a puppy caught with a
slipper in his mouth.

She stared at him uselessly, thoughts drumming the inside of
her head. A tiny spark of hope bloomed in her chest before more questions came
to stamp it out. Her mind became a blur. “Why?”

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this… But I guess I’ve
already put my neck on the line as far as you and Connor are concerned.” He
rubbed his fingertips on the desk then sighed. “Connor believes you have
nothing to do with it and his word is good as it gets to me, and that means you
need help.”

Her thoughts clicked back into place and she blinked. “Is
this about the report Connor took? You think there’s something happening at
Halifax?”

Mark caught her gaze and he was once more all cop. “And that
puts you right in the hot seat.”

Her heart flipped over in a dull double thud. She hadn’t
considered she could be implicated in precisely what she’d been trying to
uncover. “Then it sounds to me like we should be on the same team. I’ll give
you my full cooperation. I could provide anything you need to make your
case—voluntarily, no warrant or court order required—but we do this together.”

Their gazes held. She could see it in his face—the
hesitation. Over her safety or his loyalty to Connor?

“Could be dangerous.”

Charlize rose to her feet and placed her fingers on his
varnished desk. “So is doing nothing.”

He didn’t look away but a slow smile broke over his face. “Then
I guess we’d better do something.”

Smart man knew when a girl wasn’t going to back down. If
only Connor had been so wise, maybe they’d have had a chance.

* * * * *

A yellow envelope lay across her keyboard when she arrived
at her desk. Bold lettering spelled out her name on the front. His
writing—Connor’s. He wrote things by hand, didn’t print envelopes, didn’t email
unless he had to. The kind of guy who’d pick up a phone and call before sending
a text.

An old-fashioned guy.

Charlize pushed the package aside and sat down, opening her
email instead. She stared at her inbox, looked at the first message but just
couldn’t absorb the words. Her gaze kept flicking to that envelope. That sneaky
little envelope, better left unopened.

What could it be anyway? An apology? More empty explanations
that missed the point? He didn’t get it. She swallowed and slid it closer, ran
her finger over the smooth black ink of her name. Maybe it was something else…
Maybe it was regret, maybe he’d finally seen it’d never work. Perhaps she’d
shown him how he’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could make him
the center of her life. Who’d move into his sweet little home—fill it with a
beautiful little family.

Her lungs closed and she turned the envelope over, tearing
open the seal, then she tugged out the folded piece of paper inside.

Dear Charlize
,

I fucked
up. All I can say is wanting to keep you
safe made me stupid
.
I do respect you
—
you have no idea how much I
do
.
Your work is important but your safety just means more to me
.

Here is the file I took and I’m giving you my own notes
and observations about Halifax
. I’m
on your side, baby
.
I’ll
always
,
always have your back
.

Connor

Charlize peered inside the envelope then tipped it. The
little white USB stick spilled out onto her desk. She bit her lip to keep her
emotions from spewing out again. After months spent trying so hard to keep her
shit together this was like digging her way out of dry sand. The more she
scooped out, the more poured in.

She inserted the USB into her computer. He’d done what he
said. The audit and pages of his own notes. So maybe he was starting to
understand. Slowly. She pressed her knuckles to her lips. Somehow that idea
made the situation worse. Now she had hope. Now she had maybes and what ifs.

Now she had doubts.

Doubts about her choices, about everything. Ironically, she’d
found it easier to believe things with Conner couldn’t work. She rubbed her
temples with two fingers, trying to find the quiet in her mind to think. Quiet
never came, only the buzz of a never-ending stream of thoughts.

Connor had been right about one thing, her work was
important and that’s what she needed to focus on now. Work was the only thing
she had the strength to think about now. She printed the files and started
reading. Her temples throbbed and she wished she’d had time for a coffee. She
poured over pages, broke out the highlighters. She discovered a few things she
hadn’t seen on balance sheets and the financial reports she’d been able to
print from the system. Details of where things were going and what they were
used for. More than budgets and expenses—real, meaningful data.

Some of her previously drawn conclusions grew more validated
with each passing hour, while others sank into gaping holes—holes she intended
to follow to their bottoms. Overall, she discovered that the direction she’d
been toying with was the right one.

Her decision wasn’t going to go down well.

“Charlize?”

She glanced up at Lia, who stood framed in the doorway.
Charlize’s head spun from looking down so long.

“Yeah?”

“The girls and I are taking lunch if you’d like to join us?”
Lia asked warmly, as if she might honestly believe—or perhaps hoped—she’d get a
different answer this time.

Lunch. Charlize’s stomach clenched on a pang of hunger. She’d
not eaten a thing and her brain had just about reached maximum absorption.
Charlize glanced out the window then back to Lia’s beaming face. Connor’s words
rang in her mind, as clearly as if he’d just whispered them in her ear. This
time she listened.

She was the goddamn boss and she’d eat lunch with whoever
the hell she liked.

* * * * *

Six hours later she opened her front door and then turned to
wave at Jason before she went inside. He waved back but his car didn’t move.
She had no idea if he planned to stay outside all night. She toyed with asking
him to stay inside but no—she was done with live-in babysitters. She locked the
door behind her and toed off her shoes. Her aching arches pressed deliciously
into the cool floorboards. She flexed her toes and winced. Too long in heels.
Especially since she’d caved and gone to visit her dad—kinda forgiven him a
little since he’d taken his caregiver back. She knew him and that was as close
as he got to an apology, even before the stroke and breakdown.

She missed him. She’d gotten good at missing people. On his
good days she could remember the father who’d at least tried in his own
abrasive way to raise her after her mother had left. Her phone buzzed in her
jacket pocket and she pulled it out.

Could we talk privately
—
not at work
?
Rebecca
.

Charlize studied the message. Rebecca. A clerk from
accounting. She’d been at lunch. It’d been awkward at first, the six other
women at the table obviously not sure how to act around her but Lia had broken
the ice with her good-natured rambling. Had flat-out asked if harassing the new
security personnel would be considered sexual harassment given that they didn’t
work for Halifax. Apparently Jason’s backside had been taunting her from her
seat in the reception area and harassment was in order.

Before long, between bouts of laughter, Charlize realized
they all should have been on the same side from day one. She’d tried to get to
know a few of the women, handed her card around. But she hadn’t expected anyone
to contact her so soon.