For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (18 page)

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice vibrating off the
walls.

“Hey man, if you’re looking for the chick you came in with,
she left with some old dude.”

Connor’s limbs unclenched and he turned his attention to the
younger security guard on his left. “Are you sure it was her you saw leave?”

“Black hair, purple dress, rocking body?”

“That’s her,” he said cautiously and shook off the hands
holding him. “It’s okay—I’m not going to touch him. But I am going to call the
detective now, get him out here. Don’t let that prick go anywhere.”

The security guards released him and moved toward Frank.
Connor dialed Mark but watched Frank straighten himself and follow security.
Frank didn’t protest, didn’t try to run, acted the part of an innocent with
nothing to hide. What a shame… Connor wouldn’t have minded using force. Unease
shifted under his skin. Maybe Bob had taken her home? She’d looked unwell when
he’d left her but he’d been a cop too long for that to stick. A dark thought
buzzed at the back of his brain.

The missing money, Gregory’s history, the way he went after
Charlize so deliberately. He watched Frank enter the office and the door
closed. Oh Connor would bet his left nut that bastard was involved with
stealing the money but there was something more to this.

“Hey, buddy, I got a call. I’m on my way,” Mark answered.

Connor glanced around one final time. “Good but I need you
to tell me something. That rock-solid alibi you said Gregory had for the
disappearance he was linked to—who provided the alibi? Do you remember a name?”

“The file’s on my desk but it was Robert somebody.”

Connor’s mind ticked at double speed. “Robert, as in Bob?”

“I guess.”

Sense formed from the rubble of information. He just hoped
he’d figured it out in time.

* * * * *

Her thighs slid against leather seats then a door thudded.
Something in the back of her mind reminded her she wasn’t supposed to be going
anywhere but her body was too heavy to protest. Bob arranged her along the rear
seat of his car.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re about to have a stroke.”

A
stroke
.

Like her dad, like her uncle… Is that why she felt sick? She
should be scared, she was conscious enough to realize that but too relaxed to
actually feel fear. Bob pulled something from inside his jacket pocket, a small
syringe.

“Is it so hard to imagine? With your family history? And I’ve
heard you’ve been very stressed, very overwhelmed. I bet your blood pressure
has been way up.”

Her eyes fixed on the syringe and even though her mind faded
in and out as if she were in some kind of trippy nightmare, a strange clarity
settled over her.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. The needle is fine and I gave
you something earlier to relax you.”

Her tongue moved restlessly in her mouth, bitterness still
coated her taste buds.

Ah
…
the
wine
…

Bob pulled a cap off the syringe and the sharp point of a
needle gleamed menacingly. Why did needles always look so fucking big?

“Please, Bob, don’t…”

“I wish I didn’t have to, I tried to find another way,” he
said and his gaze ran over her almost fondly. He pushed the plunger and liquid
squirted. “I’ve always liked you, Charlize, you were such a sweet little girl.
I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it. But Gregory—he hates you. With
his history, with what he owes me, it wasn’t hard to plant a few ideas in his
head, keep myself out of it this time. But that option didn’t work out.”

Charlize braced herself, knew she had to wait for him to get
close, hoped she still had the strength, the reflexes to move fast enough.

“I’m sorry… I’m going to inject this in your arm now. It
works fast.”

She shifted, pulling herself up a little, balancing a little
better. “Bob, we’re friends. Why are you doing this?”

He paused. “If we were friends, you’d have told me about
your plans, the police. Now I have no choice. You have no idea how hard I’ve
worked to get things to this point. I knew Frank and his team were stealing,
hell, I’m the one who showed Gregory better ways to do it. But it was supposed
to go down my way, give me my turn to take over. I deserve my turn.”

He grasped her elbow with a jerk. She panted. Even drugged
her blood pumped faster—thank fuck for adrenaline.

“Every time I got rid of one Halifax another with the same
self-indulgent sense of entitlement rose up. This is the end of the line.”

She gasped, the horror of that single confession sending
another wave of energy exploding through her system. He’d done this before—to
her father—to her uncle. The needle plunged and she sprang, caught his wrist,
turned it and threw herself against him. His back thumped against the window
with a fleshy slap. Charlize sprawled on top of him.

The energy she’d summoned slipped away. Black swarmed the
edges of her vision. She rolled onto the floor, body wedged between the front
seats and the back. He’d come after her now. She wasn’t strong enough after
all.

She turned her head and blinked slowly, consciousness
fading. The image of Bob’s face, one side drooping, blurred into nothingness.

Charlize opened her eyes. She didn’t think she’d been
asleep. Didn’t have that sense of time passing. This was like blinking—eerily
instant. She gazed up at a white roof. The smell of something chemical, perhaps
antiseptic tainted the air. Maybe Bob decided not kill her, maybe this was his
lair.

“Charlize?”

The sound of that voice wiped the nightmarish scenes from
her imagination.

She turned her head and he rose above her. His face filled
her vision, stubble-roughened and lined with worry. Connor cupped her face and
his smile transformed his features.

Her surroundings emerged. A long, rectangular hospital room.
The noise filtered through, hushed voices, shuffling feet, the beep of
equipment. She moved her hands to drag herself up and wires and tubes brushed
her skin. An IV drip wedged into the top of her hand and a heartbeat monitor
clip on her finger. “How long have I been here?”

“About twelve hours. It’s Saturday morning.”

“And you stayed all night?”

“Baby, you’ll never be rid of me.”

“So I guess you saved me after all?”

His smile broadened and he shook his head. “No, kitten, you
saved yourself. I just found you.”

“I guess you did,” she whispered. In so many ways.

He leaned down and kissed her, dragged his lips softly over
hers just enough to make her heart flutter. Footsteps sounded and a doctor
walked in. He strode to the foot of the bed and picked up a clipboard.

“You’re awake, how are you feeling, Ms. Halifax?”

Charlize eased up a little higher and straightened her
hospital gown. “I feel okay, a little headachy but otherwise fine.”

“That’s what I’d expect. We found a date-rape drug in your
system.”

Charlize blanched. Date-rape drug. The phrase alone was
enough to send another wave of nausea through her.

Oh shit
,
that other thing
…

She glanced at Connor as the doctor asked her more
questions. A knock rattled the windowpane. Mark stood in the doorway.

“Tell them to give us a few more moments,” the doctor
instructed.

Connor left her side to speak to Mark.

Charlize lowered her voice, her gaze flickering to the
doorway. “Doctor, while I’m here I need a test for one more thing.” She
motioned him closer and whispered her request.

The doctor nodded. “Certainly, we already have a blood
sample in the lab.” He jotted a few notes and signaled for Mark and Connor to
come back in.

“Hi, Charlize. I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. You up to
answering questions?”

“As up as I’ll ever be.”

Connor pulled two chairs closer to the bed and both men sat.

“So you caught Bob?”

Mark’s gaze moved to Connor then back to her. “Charlize, Bob
was injected with a blood-clotting agent. We found the syringe in his chest. He
didn’t make it.”

Charlize held her breath. Bob was dead. She knew what he’d
done but it didn’t seem real. She still thought of him as her beat-down
president—and old friend.

“Between what we already knew and Gregory’s confession, we
put everything together.”

Charlize gaped. “Gregory confessed?” Her shock wore off. She’d
known he was a coward and cowards had a way of caving under pressure.

“When we found the clotting agent we connected it to his
previous sexual assault case, and with the charges from his assault on you and
no more Bob to cover his tracks, he spilled it all.”

Charlize nodded, pressure eased off her chest. “So I guess
he’ll be going to jail?”

“For a very long time I imagine,” Mark said.

“I’m just pissed Bob’s not around for me to kill,” Connor
said and gazed at Charlize. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on him, baby. I should’ve
sensed something.” The look on his face stole her breath.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known.”

She held out her hand, he took it and she squeezed his
fingers.

“He fooled everyone. With Gregory as his errand boy, not
even Frank knew he was involved with the theft,” Mark said.

“But Frank definitely is?” she asked, a small glimmer of
hope remaining that not everyone she knew was corrupt.

“According to the information Gregory divulged, Frank
thought he was an absolute mastermind. He’s been arrested this morning, along
with three other Halifax directors for fraud and embezzlement.”

“Shit,” she said and squeezed Connor’s hand tighter. This
was supposed to feel good wasn’t it? Yet there was bitterness in knowing her
worst thoughts about people had been confirmed.

“Hey, this is good, baby. Halifax can move forward now.”
Connor rubbed her fingers.

She smiled at him. “And so can I.”

Mark shuffled in his chair, reminding her of his presence.
For the next hour, she gave him her undivided attention while he asked what had
to be close to five hundred questions. By the end she was ready to claw her way
out of the hospital room.

The doctor strode back in. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I need a
moment with my patient.”

“Want me to stay?” Connor asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

Connor planted a kiss on her forehead and walked Mark out.

Charlize clutched her hands in her lap. “So?”

The doctor gave her a long look and hooked the clipboard
onto the end of her bed. “You’re not pregnant.”

“Oh.” Her hands opened but the relief didn’t come as freely
or as instantly as she’d expected. When it did, it came with a side dish of
something she recognized as a sense of loss. “I guess I just had it in my head
that I was.”

“You said you vomited after drinking the champagne?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Ms. Halifax, that sometimes happens with black-market
substances. You don’t know what’s in it or how it will affect you. You’re lucky
you had a bad reaction and expelled most of it. That probably lessened the
effects.”

She nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,
Doctor. So when can I leave?”

“As soon as you’re ready.”

Charlize took a deep breath. “Then discharge me. I’m ready
to go home.”

Her gaze drifted to the open doorway. Just outside, Connor
stood in the hallway with Mark. The only thing left to find out was if she’d be
going to her home—or theirs.

The moment she sank into Connor’s passenger seat tiredness
washed over her, tugged at her eyelids. Odd since she’d spent twelve hours
unconscious. Connor started the car and drove out of the hospital lot. Sunlight
cast harsh lines over his face, revealed the shadows caused by lack of sleep.
He’d stayed by her side—he loved her. She believed him and she loved him back.

Easy, right? True love, respect, admiration all tied up in a
kinky red bow of lust. Freaking destiny and all that. She looked out the window
as he drove but the world outside flew by in a blur. She toyed with the folds
of her skirt, her heart sinking into her churning stomach. They were all in but
all in what? And could he live with her brand of baggage?

Connor reached over and took her wrist, slid her palm into
his lap and pushed his fingers through hers. “You okay? It’s been a crazy few
days.”

“It’s not that, it’s something else,” she whispered and
gently slid her hand free.

He glanced at her, a frown pushing his brows into a shallow
vee. “Do I need to pull over?”

“I don’t know—no just keep driving.” She swallowed and
blurted out her thoughts. “That time in Alicia’s storeroom, we weren’t careful.”

His fingers hesitated just above the stick-shift but then he
grasped the knob and changed gears. “I don’t think either of us was thinking
clearly that day. You’re on the pill, right?”

She exhaled deeply. “What I’m saying is—it’s not always
effective. Last night at the awards when I threw up what Bob gave me, I
realized it might be something else making me sick.”

Connor hit the turn signal and the tires screeched as the
car pulled to a space at the side of the road. He yanked up the handbrake,
switched off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to her.

Her chest fluttered as if she’d been running after a
coffee-drinking contest. His eyes, his attention centered on her. She couldn’t
look at him, couldn’t watch them change when she told him the truth.

“If you’re saying what I think you are, you can just tell
me, Charlize. It’ll be okay.”

She blinked, a screen of tears blurring her vision. “No I’m
not, and if I were, it wouldn’t be okay. But I thought—I was terrified
actually—that I might be.”

Silence blistered through the car. Connor spoke, his voice a
broken whisper. “And that’s it? The horrific possibility of carrying my child?”

“I’ve seen your house. I’ve seen you with kids. I know you
want a family.”

“Is that so awful?”

She flinched at the undisguised hurt in his voice. “No,” she
whispered and reached for him, took his big hand in hers. “So do I but I’m not
ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to give up my job and everything I’ve
worked for to do the house and kids thing.”

His fingers tightened over her knuckles. “Is that what you
think? That I fell for you because I think you’ll look hot in an apron?”

She forced her gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes
reflected a hundred pained emotions all wrapped up in affection. It freaking
killed her. “So you’re not going to want that? Because I can’t live with your
future not being everything you dreamed it would be because of me.”

He leaned closer, studied her. “Charlize, one day, if you
ask me to put my kid in you, I’ll fucking be ecstatic and we’ll work it out.
You won’t have to give up everything to do it.”

Her blood pressure rose to explosive levels. His words
created such a tempting fantasy, worming its way under her skin, beckoning her
to dream it with him. “That’s optimistic but I want to be realistic. I was
raised by a mother who left because she wanted more and then by nannies who
just wanted to be paid. I want more for my kids. I want them to have parents
who are around to raise them and I honestly don’t know if I could cope with
being completely absent.”

Connor scooped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing
her cheekbones. “Then they will. Who said it had to only be you? Who said we
couldn’t do it together?”

“So you’d take time off from Crowe Security for daddy
duties?” Her eyebrow twitched up. Absurd. No way would this big, domineering,
made of testosterone man submit to domestic obligations and give up the pride
of being breadwinner.

“I’ve managed to look after you, haven’t I? Crowe’s designed
to survive without me in the office every day.” He released her face and
settled back into his own seat then strapped his seatbelt back into place. “A
man’s job is to protect his family, give them what they need. What they really
need from him. That’s not something that can be offered in dollars or muscle
mass.”

By the time he finished speaking, Charlize’s world had
tilted. All the things she thought she knew, the things she’d decided, the
things she believed got tipped out and shaken, put back in and rearranged into
something more spectacular than she could have envisioned on her own.

“And you want to be my family?”

He looked at her, a brief glance before gazing back at the
road and starting the engine. That one expression, eyes storming with emotion
beneath scrunched brows, lips pressed together as if he feared what they might
say, told her even more than his words had.

Words like love were easy, lazy…she’d heard them before.
They could be empty, hollow sounds or mean one thing to one person and
something else to another. But that look, that raw, pregnant need, that exposed
yearning that seemed to say, “Here, take my heart”… There was no mistaking that
kind of look.

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled
onto the road. He glanced her way again but didn’t touch her. They couldn’t
touch right now, not with the air laced with emotion like an electric current.
He turned into the road around the block from her house. The car filled with
the sound of their breathing, growing faster as they rolled into the street
where she lived.

The car pulled up and Connor turned off the engine. His
hands slid into his lap. He turned and their gazes locked. She knew her
feelings poured into her face. She knew what her expression said—you have all
of me.

She pulled her handbag from the floor and dug out her keys
then slid her nail into the ring, prying it open. She tugged off her spare key
and offered it to him. His hand opened and she placed it in his open palm.

“We’re home,” she whispered.

He closed his fist around the key. His eyes flashed, his
gaze flickering between her eyes and lips. He didn’t kiss her but his body
changed. Told her that when he touched her there’d be no stopping. Told her how
it was going to be the moment they got inside.

She already ached for him. With her body, her heart and
more. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. Connor’s footsteps
thudded after hers. He climbed the steps beside her, silent as a predator
before striking at its prey. His hand hung not an inch away from hers but she
didn’t take his fingers, didn’t make contact, not here in the street.

Her heart thumped and her blood felt hot and heavy. He slid
in his key and opened the door. She strode down the hall into the kitchen—felt
him behind her, felt the anticipation like the sound of a spark before an
explosion. It was going to be like the time in the store room—out of control.
But this time there’d be a crushing tenderness. Emotion already swamped her
from her heart to her toes.

She dropped her bag onto the counter and it
happened—contact. His body pressed against hers from behind, he circled her
waist and the heat from his body surrounded her. She turned her head and his
mouth slanted over her lips. His tongue lashed hers and she met its thrusts,
letting him lead. She tasted the need on that kiss, felt his desire in his
shaking breath and the hands that roamed over her desperately. Then his lips
left hers and he stepped forward, shuffled her ahead of him with his knees
pushing against her thighs. The kitchen counter knocked against her abdomen. He
bent her over, pushing between her shoulders. His knees hit the ground with a
thud that shook the floor under her heels.

He drew her dress around her waist with a sweep of his
hands—his fingers hooked in her panties and tugged them over the swell of her
ass. Her pussy tingled, squeezed tight between her closed legs. His mouth
followed the urgent path of his hands, teeth scraping along one sensitive ass
cheek. She jerked against the counter, trying to spread her legs, widen them to
show him what she wanted but her panties held them closed. His thumbs dug into
her thighs just below her cheeks, kneading, prying her open. He left her
panties there, just below her exposed ass, trapping her legs.

Sharp jolts of desire batted her insides, seized her lungs,
flooded her pussy. He spread her cheeks wide, the heat of his breath the only
warning before his mouth descended on her vagina. He sucked her, rubbed his
hot, hard tongue against her opening then drove it into her. She gasped and her
stomach tightened with pleasure.

Her clit throbbed, desperate for his touch but he wasn’t
trying to get her off. This was preparation—preparation for the way he was
going to take her. He opened her wider, licked his way from her pussy to her
rear entrance. She twitched but his tongue didn’t touch her there again. He
rose behind her, foil tore then a moment later his bulging head drove against
her slick entrance.

Air flooded her lungs as he stretched her, filled her with
the sweetest sting. He thrust deep, pumped hard. Each thrust stoked the
pleasurable fire building in her core. He took her without restraint, using
irregular, out-of-control movements. She bucked into him, needing more, needing
all of him.

He hunched over her, slid his hand under her chest and
pulled her back against him. His lips pressed into the curve of her neck and he
crossed his arms over her breasts, driving harder with each surge.

Heat flooded her face, her eyes squeezed closed, the
pressure built. Slapping thighs, driving cock and the tremble of his breath
against the sensitive skin on her throat, a tsunami of sensation.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

She didn’t think, knew what he needed to hear. “I love you,
Connor,” she cried.

His whole body tensed along her back. He bucked, squeezing
her breasts in his hands. “I fucking love you, Charlize,” he groaned against
her neck and pushed deep.

He rocked against her, buried his face in her hair and
spasmed. Inside her his shaft tightened and swelled, pushed her so close to
ecstasy it burned. The breaths in her hair slowed and his cock tugged out of
her. Her pussy clutched him, not wanting to let the fullness go. He released
her slowly, giving her a chance to balance herself on her own feet.

He lifted the folds of her dress over her head, tossed it to
the ground then trailed his hands over her shoulders. The clasp on her bra
snapped and a split-second later he tossed that too. She rubbed her sore
nipples—so tight they hurt. He pushed her panties down, let them fall to the
floor. His palms ran over her back like salve over a burn. Her skin ached,
needed, wanted.

He knelt once more behind her. His lips pressed against the
small of her back before he turned her with firm hands. His stubble grazed a
path over her abdomen. She leaned against the counter and gazed down at him.
Connor on his knees in front of her, kissing the swell of her belly as if it
was the most beautiful thing on Earth. She hadn’t thought it possible to be
more turned on but that sight nearly brought her undone.

He looked up at her and she saw what he was doing in the
stormy blue of his eyes. Waiting—waiting for her instruction. There was nothing
they wouldn’t share, not even control. She pushed him back gently.

“Take off your shirt,” she said.

Connor flicked the buttons, revealing his perfect male skin
inch by inch. He tugged off the shirt and threw it aside. Fucking perfection.
Her pulse doubled. She drew up a knee and hooked it over his shoulder. His gaze
focused on her pussy and he grabbed her hip, drew her to his mouth. She palmed
the sides of his head, halting him a breath away from her glistening sex.

“You get what I give you,” she ground out.

His nostrils flared, the air brushed her clit. He’d just
handed her control but she knew it was an illusion, knew he’d have her back
under him in a flash, knew he did this for her. She tugged him closer and pushed
her hips forward. His lips closed over her clit and thoughts—about things like
control, business troubles, future babies…about anything except this—fled her
mind. She rocked against his mouth. He worked her with his tongue.

Her body drew in, tension swarmed, intensified. She squirmed
and heard herself beg. He pushed two fingers into her and pumped. Her hips
bucked. She drew closer and closer to what she needed—that sweet peak. She
exploded over the edge, crashed down the other side, plunged into the abyss.
Heat and pleasure coated her veins, liquefied her bones, zinged along her
nerves.

Her vision cleared and she released her grip on his head.
Connor still lapped her as if her orgasm tasted like bliss. She sank down and
collapsed into his arms. He held her in his lap and leaned against the counter.
His heart beat against her ear. She reveled in the scent of him, the security
of his strength.

He stroked her back, brushed his chin over the top of her
hair. She breathed in, filling her whole chest.

This was home and there were no rules. Just the two of
them—making it together.