For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection)

Amber
A Bardan

You shouldn’t mix business with
pleasure.

Yet pleasure seems to be the one
and only thing on Charlize’s mind the moment Connor steamrollers into her life.
Desperate to save her family company, prove she’s more than a pretty face and
worthy of being CEO, pleasure is a distraction she can’t afford.

She doesn’t want a bodyguard,
especially not one whose caveman heroics kick her libido into hyper drive. But
surrounded by enemies and an attacker on the loose, there’s only one man she
can trust with her life.

Connor knows better than to get
personal with clients. Yet there couldn’t be anything more personal about his
feelings for Charlize. From the moment he clapped eyes on her he wanted nothing
more than to throw her over his shoulder and really give her something to
scream about. He’ll get his uptight she-cat to unwind, preferably one orgasm at
a time.

With Connor in her office, her
home, driving her to sweet, merciless distraction, there’s only so long
Charlize can resist his sexy, dominant brand of protection.

A Romantica®
contemporary erotic romance
from
Ellora’s Cave

Acknowledgments

To my critique partner extraordinaire, Tracey, I wouldn’t be
here without your writerly wisdom. To my alpha-beta and dearest sister, thank
you for being my cheerleader and giving me the confidence to believe I could do
this. Thank you to Dani, who has been my writer’s world Yoda. Most of all thank
you to my husband for putting up with my state of constant daydreaming
absentmindedness and for ensuring the children are fed while I pursue my
passion—you are my own personal hero.

Thank you to everyone at Ellora’s Cave for making my dreams
come true.

Charlize narrowed her gaze at the weight machine as if her
glare could wrest it into obedience. No such luck. The powder-coated arms of
the chest-press held three lots of the heaviest weights in the gym. No point
trying to unload it herself. She clenched her fingers and turned toward the
mirror-lined wall of Alicia’s Gym.

Three times this week, the inconsiderate ass-hats currently
preening in front of the mirror had held up her morning workout. The “Anabolic
Twins”, as she liked to think of them, stood flexing arms far too big for any
practical purpose with enough self-satisfaction to make her want to gag.

Try-hards
.

Despite the sign instructing patrons to remove weights after
use, these two liked nothing better than to load ’em and leave ’em, in some
kind of juvenile, dick-measuring contest. Well not anymore. She started forward
but then stopped herself.

No
,
nope
,
no
. She came to the gym to
decompress. She’d need to work off some stress before today’s executive
management meeting—and what a merry circus that would be. Pressure built behind
her ribs. If she didn’t want to end up with a heart condition, she needed to
start letting off steam. She’d have a word with Alicia about the Twins later.

Charlize took a deep breath and strode to the cross-trainer.
She pumped up the volume on her MP3 player then kicked off with her feet. She
moved faster and her breathing accelerated, forcing short breaths through her
lips. Her arms strained and her calves ached but she moved past the discomfort.
Time stretched into nothing but the shuffle of tracks in her ear. Her lungs
burned. A little more and she’d beat her record. She glanced up and her steps
faltered. Sweet lord…

Now that’s what a real man looks like
.

He stalked through the center of the gym with a large bag
slung over his back. He moved like a wolf, lean muscle rippling under the
sun-licked skin of someone who spent time outdoors.

He passed the cross-trainer and her movements stopped
altogether. Her earphones hummed with a hypnotic beat but she only caught some
of the words. Now that was an ass worth stopping for. With every long stride
the black fabric of his shorts stretched over his taut backside. She leaned
against the arms of the cross-trainer, catching her breath.

Her gaze danced after him.
You could crack a tooth on
that ass
. He pulled open a door and disappeared into the empty studio where
classes were held.

He must be an instructor. Going by the look of him—crisp,
dark hair cut almost military-style and a no-nonsense, square jaw—he probably
taught boxing. She could see him as a boxer, his broad shoulders hunched as he
laid into some great big punching bag, pounding it with his gloves, pounding…

He’d be so great at pounding
.

Her chest rose and fell with puffs of breath.
Hip-thrust-inducing rhythms thrummed in her ears. She shook her head and jerked
out the earphones. Damn lust-inducing dance music, clearly a bad influence at
this time of the morning. She picked up her towel and wiped her face and neck,
glancing back to the weight machines. A middle-aged woman slid into an
overloaded leg-press.

Charlize stepped forward, holding out a hand, but the
warning died on her lips. Too late. The woman strained against the foot plate,
moving it several inches before her legs gave way and the plate slammed down on
her shins.

A howl filled the gym. Charlize’s heart kicked into
hyper-time and she dropped her towel, leaping over a small bench and sprinting
to the leg press. The woman grabbed where her legs peeked out above the press.
Charlize hooked her fingers around the sides of the plate and heaved but the
damn thing wouldn’t budge. She strained and held her breath, pulling with her
whole body. Nope too damn heavy.

She placed one foot on the base of the machine and pushed
off. The plate slid back an inch. The woman pried out her legs, Charlize fell forward
and the plate smashed back into the base with a metallic clang. Charlize crept
around the machine and crouched in front of the woman who rubbed her shins.

“Are you all right?”

The woman nodded and flexed her feet. “Yeah I think I’m
fine. Just grazed.”

Charlize’s heart raced, adrenaline charged her system. She
watched the woman’s fingers slide over purpling skin.

“And bruised,” Charlize said.

“I’m okay.” The woman stood and picked up her drink bottle
and towel.

“Let me help you to the front desk, get you a cold pack or
something.”

The woman shook her head and her cheeks flamed red. “No I
can get there myself.”

Charlize frowned and watched her hobble away. She recognized
damaged pride when she saw it but the woman wasn’t the one who should be
embarrassed. She glanced over her shoulder.

The Twins leaned against a column, watching as if the
accident was free entertainment. One of them smirked.
Smirked
for Christ’s
sake. She shot to her feet. Blood throbbed in her ears, her cheeks, everywhere.
The bastards, they didn’t give a crap that their actions hurt someone. Her
nails dug into her palms and she inched forward. Clearly they were amused that
a little woman had thought she could use their big-boy machine—just like half
the executive team snickered at Charlize sitting behind the big-boy’s desk. Her
breath hitched.

Her company—where, like here at the gym, everything was a
fucking dick-measuring contest and she didn’t have one.

Time to flash some balls
.

Shouts drew his attention, the high-pitched voice reaching
him inside the studio. Connor set down the last of the equipment and shook his
head, walking to the swinging doors. Dealing with brawling patrons was not in
his contract. He stepped into the main gym area and his stride faltered.

The closest thing he’d ever seen to a fem-bot stood in the
center of the free-weight area. One of her hands pressed to a narrow waist that
flared to full hips and a cherry-shaped ass sketched directly from a fantasy. She
waved her other hand toward two giant meatheads. He tried to decipher her
screeched words but one look at that ass and he had a hard time making sense of
English.

He slinked closer.
Yeah fem-bot all right
. With a
slicked-back bun of jet-black hair, full-length black tights, matching tank, an
MP3 player strapped to some fancy armband, and wearing high-performance
sneakers, she was all otherworld sex-robot—untouchable but he’d bet worth a
try.

What was a woman like this doing at Alicia’s family gym? She’d
be more suited to the shmancy women’s only around the corner. Not that he cared
right now why she chose Alicia’s—what he cared about was her turning around so
he could see if her front matched the promise of her rear.

A few feet away and her words penetrated his haze.

“Misogynistic, sexist, inconsiderate…”

He groaned. Perfect. He got it now, the expensive gear, the
severe hairstyle, the general untouchable vibe. A high-strung, corporate ball-buster—the
kind who looked down their designer spectacles at him when he gave his
self-defense seminars. He didn’t bother letting them in on the fact this lowly
self-defense instructor also held a masters in criminology.

Connor reached her side and his estimation of Ms. Corporate
Fem-bot turned from exasperated to downright pissed.

“Steroids must’ve done more than shrink your pricks—”

The two semi-identical meatheads’ expressions morphed into
berserker masks and they stepped closer to the girl, who didn’t seem to have
any idea what she’d invoked. But then they never did, that kind of woman. Too
used to having everyone jump when they snapped their manicured fingers, they
never saw the first fist flying—or worse.

He knew what to expect from these situations. Had seen
firsthand too many times what could happen to a woman who pushed the wrong type
of guy’s buttons. Those images still kept him up at night.

He cleared his throat. “Is there a problem here?”

Fem-bot turned and his thoughts collapsed into a hot mess.
Holy shit. Who said fem-bot? The face that scowled up at him put a Disney
princess to shame. It wasn’t the full lips pouting above a deep chin dimple
that robbed him of sanity—it was the wide, almond-shaped eyes, the color of
butter warming in a pan, that turned his brain to mush…even if those eyes were
glaring at him.

No amount of hairspray or Lycra could make her less sweet.

“It’s none of your damned business.” She turned back to the
pair towering above her.

He blinked. Did she just fob him off? And with a thick
helping of attitude to boot? When he was trying to help her. He’d leave her to
the hole she was digging if she wasn’t about to get hurt. Meathead one rubbed a
palm with a fist. It’d only take another push. But this girl was like a
firecracker, too busy exploding to notice what was happening right in front of
her.

“I’m making it my business.” He placed a hand on her
shoulder.

She jerked back and shot him another scowl. “Then you can
fuck off as well.”

Meathead two twitched. Fuck, Alicia would be pissed if he
ended up spattering blood all over her gym floor. But he would, if that’s what
it took to protect this beautiful, hissing kitten.

She took a breath and opened her mouth, most likely to spew
more venom. A fake tanned hand rose toward her. Shit, there was only one thing
for it. Connor ducked and swiped an arm under her legs then flipped her over
his shoulder.

Hell, if the girl was going to act like a shrew, he’d just
have to handle her like one.

Her chest hit a rock-hard shoulder and the breath emptied
from her lungs. The booming laughs and cheers of the Twins filled the gym. She’d
seen red but now the world turned black. Charlize screeched, beating her fists
on the back of her assailant. He didn’t seem to notice, just carried her into
the empty studio.

The doors swung closed and he dumped her onto a pile of blue
exercise mats. She scrambled to her feet and spun to face him. For a moment she
lost her words. Somewhere in the heat of losing her shit, she’d totally blocked
out the intruder to her argument. Now face-to-face with him and totally winded,
the sight of him smacked her upside her ovaries. His flinty dark-blue eyes
watched her like a predator. His broad, athletic body poised, ready to spring
if she so much as twitched.

She panted, struggling to wrestle her leaping estrogen under
control. Too bad he’d turned out to be a complete goddamn caveman. Had he
actually slung her over his shoulder and hauled her ass into his cave? What was
that they said about men who looked too good to be true? Yeah well, this one
had a flaw she wouldn’t ever overlook. No man treated her as if she were some
prehistoric prize.

“What the hell do you think you were doing out there?”

Charlize’s mouth opened. What the hell did she do? After
what he’d just done, he wanted an explanation from her?

Fat chance
, c
aveman
.

“It’s none of your goddamn business. Who do you think you
are throwing women over your shoulder like some Neanderthal?”

One dark eyebrow jerked up and he scanned her from head to
toe as if he had X-ray vision. She resisted the urge to cover herself against
the sensation of being rendered naked by his gaze.

“Neanderthal? Perhaps I wouldn’t have acted like one if you
weren’t screaming the place down like some crazy she-cat.”

Charlize gasped, the still unsatisfied rage in her chest
spewing back out. “Now you’re calling me names, that’s slick, buster. Tell me,
does this strategy work for you? Drag your knuckles and hurl some insults and
the ladies fall to their knees?”

He stepped forward, his nostrils flaring. “You’ve a high
opinion of yourself, kitten. I wasn’t trying to get you on your knees. Make no
mistake—if I was, you’d know it explicitly.” He enunciated the last word
slowly, drawing out each syllable so the word became truly explicit. His black
sneakers stopped an inch from hers and he flashed a grin, a tight-like-a-wolf
grin, all hungry white teeth. “And for the record I’ve never had to trick a
woman to get her on her knees.”

Heat coursed through her system, centering somewhere in her
panty region. She squeezed her thighs together and her tongue darted between
her lips.

His gaze homed in on her mouth and his voice lowered. “If
you’d stopped to listen instead of shooting off that sharp tongue, you’d have
seen I was trying to help you before you got yourself into trouble.”

Helping her was he? Of course he’d think she was completely
unable to stick up for herself. Charlize took a step out of the gravity
surrounding him, hoping it’d free her from the pull. “I didn’t need help. I had
it under control.”

“Is that right?” He smiled again and again his expression
made her feel as if she were about to be dinner. “You handle yourself by
insulting and provoking men twice your size? Very clever, kitten.”

If the condescending caveman called her a kitten one more
time she’d show him some claw. “I could handle them—just like I can handle you.
You only got me over your shoulder by catching me off guard.”

He laughed and leaned in again. She refused to back away
this time.

“Is that so? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

Charlize swallowed, a thrill trickling over her skin. She
could think of a few places she could put her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“You say you can handle them? Handle me? I could have you
facedown, ass-up on that mat by the time you count to three.”

Crap
.

Facedown, ass-up? What part of that visual did what it was
supposed to do—repel her? The image was like a lick straight over her crotch,
sending heat zapping down nerves she didn’t know she had. Not that she’d let
him in on her reaction, cocky asshole.

Her chin rose. “Deal. What do I get when I win?”

“When you win?” He chuckled and his eyes shone with pure
mischief. “Fine, what would you like from me—should you win?”

Her mind ticked over. How about him…on his knees, face
planted against her—
dammit
,
no
. But a groveling caveman wasn’t
totally unappealing. “You get to be my gym bitch for a week. Fetch me weights,
be my water boy, take care of anything and everything I need.”

His lips twitched and his voice lowered to a rumble. “I’m
more than prepared to satisfy all your needs. But are you prepared to give me
what I want if I win?”

Heat progressed down her cheeks to her neck. God willing she
wasn’t as red as she felt.

Only if it involves the facedown
,
ass-up scenario
.

Her pussy throbbed. She’d lost it. Must have just let
herself get a little too wound up. Her libido was getting confused with
everything going on and the fact that the caveman was hot. She didn’t want to
jump him anywhere near as much as she felt like she did.
Yep that makes
perfect sense
. “What is it you want?”

“Not much, just an apology. First to me then to the two
meatheads out there.”

An apology? He looked at her like that and all he wanted was
an apology? He’d have more chance with the ass-up bit.

“Of course if you think you’ll lose…”

“I won’t lose.” She held his gaze. Sure he’d be able to pin
her down eventually but no way would she let him do it in three seconds. She
could run, she’d played her share of dodgeball. She could evade. “Assuming I
get an advantage?”

“What kind of advantage.”

Charlize stepped back. “I’m thinking six feet. It’s only
fair since you’re not trying to sneakily catch me off guard and all.”

He flashed his neat row of teeth again and pressed buttons
on his watch. “Six feet it is. Three seconds on the stopwatch.”

She took her remaining steps back.

He glanced up. “Now to be clear…three seconds and you go
facedown on that mat.”

“I understand—if you can get me there.” She flashed him her
own set of pearly whites. “I’ll countdown from three then your three seconds
begin.”

He nodded and she put one foot back, ready to spin and run. “Three.”
All she had to do was outrun him for three seconds. “Two.” Her muscles poised. “One.”
She spun off her back foot. Her other foot didn’t reach the ground before a
solid resistance slammed into her from behind.

She hit the mat facedown, fall broken by the lift of her
arms over her head. Her knees pressed into the mat, her bottom pressed into the
air as a weight descended on her, sinking between her knees. His hips rested
behind hers. He held her wrists in the vise of his fingers.

A beep filled the empty studio.

“You yield?”

Warm breath brushed against her ear, shivering its way down
to the throbbing pulse of her pussy.

She was pinned—immobile—helpless. Yet the urge to flee never
turned up. Instead her hips flexed backward, seeking the hot weight behind
her—trying to grind against something that might ease the ache in her core, the
mounting pressure that needed something to uncork it so she could finally
explode out of the bottle she’d been stuffed inside for too long.

“No.”

He groaned behind her. His hips met the grind of hers. A
large rock-hard erection pressed through fabric to brush against the crease of
her backside. She swallowed a soft moan.

“Shit, kitten, I’m starting to think this was your plan all
along.”

Her hips bucked and his fingers tightened on her wrists.

“Connor, what the fuck are you doing?”

The voice broke through the single-minded, heat-seeking
agenda of her body. He jumped off her, rolling to his feet smoothly. Charlize
glanced up and a different, less pleasant kind of heat burned its way over her
face. Her cousin Alicia strode into the room, coming to a stop beside them and
crossing her toned arms over her chest.

“Charlize?” Alicia stood above her, brows twisted in a look
of complete what-the-fuckery. “What the hell is going on?”

Connor glanced down at Charlize then took her by the elbow
and eased her to standing. He cleared his throat. “Just giving her a private
lesson.”

Alicia’s gaze flicked between the two of them. “Yeah it sure
looked private.” She settled her attention back on Connor. “But you didn’t have
the studio booked for a private lesson and you have women lined up outside
ready to begin their class.”

Connor flashed Alicia a smile. Not the kind he’d given her,
but one that lit up his face and made her insides quiver. For an instant she
felt the urge to act like a possessive three-year-old and push her cousin—whom
she adored—over on her rear end.

This day was getting worse by the second.

“It was one maneuver. I thought we’d have time. You can let
the ladies in, I’m ready.” He ran his fingers from Charlize’s elbow to her
fingers and pressed his lips to the top of her hand with an infuriating wink.

She snatched her hand away.

“I guess I’ll take that apology next time?”

Her spine stiffened and her cheeks grew hotter. Not likely.
She turned and stormed to the doors. Outside the studio women of all ages
crowded the gym. Great, no wonder he was cocky, women swarmed to him in droves.
She headed for the locker room.

“Charlize.”

She paused and glanced over her shoulder at her cousin.

“We’re not done yet. I want to talk to you.”

“I’m going to be late to work.”

Alicia gave her a stiff smile. “Good thing you’re the boss
then.”

“Five minutes,” she said and followed Alicia into her
office.

Alicia sank into the chair behind her worn wood desk but
Charlize simply leaned against the wall. She didn’t plan on staying long enough
to sit down. The office was neat but in dire need of refurbishment. Besides
threadbare carpet the room also smelled faintly of oil. Alicia’s didn’t seem to
be doing so well.

“First I get called out of a PT session because there’s been
some kind of accident then I hear someone’s been carted off shrieking and then
I find you of all people, in the studio grinding your ass against my
self-defense instructor? What’s going on?”

Despite being two years younger than Charlize, Alicia knew
how to exercise authority. She’d always been that way, in charge of the games
they’d played as kids. Charlize would give anything to be like her cousin.
Alicia was all Keira Knightley wielding a broadsword—narrow body coated in
tight muscle, high cheekbones and perfectly pointed canines.

Alicia leaned back and tapped the fingers of one hand on the
toned biceps of her other arm. Her slight curves disappeared under her shirt
instead of straining against the material. Alicia would never look better
suited to dangling her legs over the edge of a giant champagne glass than
leading an executive team consisting of men. No one would underestimate Alicia.
No one would think her incapable of running her family business—she looked like
a boss.

“The Anabolic Twins loaded and left the machines again, this
time someone got hurt.”

“Well I know that and I’ve dealt with it. What happened with
you?”

Charlize snorted. “Nothing happened with me. I was just
giving the wankers a piece of my mind then that Neanderthal you made the
mistake of letting work for you tossed me over his shoulder and carted me off.”

Alicia let out a laugh then attempted to mask it with a
cough.

“It’s not funny. You should sack him. He’s completely
belligerent.”

“Let me get this right. You were losing it at two bodybuilders
so pumped full of drugs they’d probably attack their own mother for looking at
them, Connor stepped in and removed you from the situation and he’s the bad
guy?” Alicia brushed a lock of short blonde hair off her forehead.

“He threw me over his shoulder.”

“If he’s so terrible what was the dry-humping I walked in
on?”

Charlize leaned her hip against the wall. “That was nothing.”

“If you say so. I don’t know what the deal is with you and
Connor, and you’re my cousin and I love you but I won’t get rid of him. He’s
the best thing that’s happened to this place.” Alicia sighed and held up her
palms. “I mean where else am I going to find a former cop, taking time out from
his own business to give free women’s self-defense classes? He’s bringing in a
whole new clientele.” Her hands rose higher. “Not to mention he’s also a former
Judo champion.”

Charlize sucked in a breath.
He’s a what now
? She
lifted her hip from the wall and placed her hands on Alicia’s scarred wood
desk. “Judo? You mean like that Karate-type thing where they throw and wrestle
people?”

“Actually it’s not Karate, it’s a form of—never mind, yeah
it’s a takedown form of self-defense. But actually Connor teaches more than the
traditional techniques when it comes to women’s protection.”

Charlize’s pulse hummed again and she clenched her jaw.
Sneaky, lying prick. She’d never stood a chance. He was a champion at taking
people down.

“Actually the class is out of this world. Like him or not
you should attend a couple sessions. Could save your life one day.”

“Not a chance.” She removed her hands from the desk and
straightened.

Alicia slid from her chair. “Charlize, I know you’ve had a
lot going on but I’ve never seen you like this—so angry. Is everything okay?”

A wave of exhaustion hit her. She couldn’t consider the
question too closely. No one had bothered asking. “I’m fine, work’s just a
mess. The way Uncle Steven left the place it’s all I can do just to wade
through the muck. Not to mention, no one in that office takes me seriously. I’m
just the owner’s pretty little daughter.”