For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (4 page)

A satisfied quiver twisted into his smile. “Why thank you,
Charlize. So let’s not waste time.” He pulled a pen from inside his jacket and
handed it to her.

Charlize glanced back across the sea of faces. Neville, who
moments ago had been so vocal, now watched her silently. She frowned. As
director of manufacturing operations, Neville would lose almost all his staff,
his factories, maybe even his own position. Yet there he sat, offering not a
word of protest…

“You know what amazes me the most about this report? How you
were able to put together projections without access to financial reporting.”

Deep lines cut into Frank’s cheeks. “You’re mistaken. We
have access to all financial reports.”

Charlize smiled. “Is that so? Because I have been completely
unable to obtain correct or accurate reporting at all since assuming the role
of CEO.” She snapped the folder closed. “So if you could simply provide me with
the full information referenced in your analysis, I would be happy to look at
it and then make a decision.”

The silence in the room changed to a symphony of squeaking
chairs and clearing throats.

Frank’s gaze darkened. “I can assure you—”

“Can you? Because I have been assured many things by your
department that have been forgotten or overlooked. So I can only imagine what
has been overlooked in this contract. It would be remiss of me not to give it
proper consideration.”

She saw the shift in Frank’s body and rose. “Thank you,
everyone. This meeting is concluded.”

After a few moments of deep silence the room came back to
life and people filed toward the doors. Charlize turned to Frank.

“Frank, I’d like you and Gregory to stay.” She nodded to Bob
at the other end of the room.

Bob reached her side and she released a breath. She’d need
him beside her to do this.

“Bob, would you call security please and have someone escort
Gregory from the building.”

“What—?” Gregory rose from Frank’s side, a scarlet flush
toning his neck.

Frank shot him a glance and Gregory fell back into his
chair.

“Charlize, I’m not sure I understand what you are doing.
What cause do you have to make such a request?”

Charlize arched an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a request. It was an
instruction. Today I gave Gregory a final opportunity to provide me with
information promised to me and he failed. This kind of incompetence won’t be
tolerated. He’s fired, effective immediately.”

Gregory sprang forward, up out of his chair. “You little
bitch. You can’t do this!”

Frank clasped Gregory’s arm. “We understand. Gregory, I’ll
have your things packed for you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Frank? She can’t do
this.”

Gregory tugged his arm but Frank held fast, blasting him a
long look. Gregory stiffened and gazed at Bob for the briefest moment before he
jerked his arm free then stormed toward the doors.

Frank adjusted his tie stiffly and he gazed at her through
half-lowered lids. “You may be CEO but you might regret such impulsiveness.”

He turned and followed Gregory out the door.

Charlize pushed down the handle of the back exit and shoved
against the door with her hip. She barely had energy to haul her own ass out of
the building, let alone the box of files in her arms. To top it off she had to
lug it through the massive rear lot instead of to her usual spot in the
underground parking garage.

Perfect
.

Just like her perfect freaking day. She hoisted the box onto
her hip and strode toward her car, sticking to the left of the lot where dim
light streamed from streetlamps. The odd vehicles of late-working staff dotted
the parking lot. The crunch of her heels on rock amplified in the deserted
space.

Her Mercedes hunched in the corner, dwarfed by the Jeep
looming beside it. She slid her keys from her pocket and pressed the button.
Headlights flared in response. Half an hour and she’d be home, neck deep in
files but with a tall goblet of Sav Blanc to take the edge off. Hopefully it’d
take the edge off the raw ache between her legs as well.

She sidled up to the car and pressed the trunk release. Yeah
she’d need a tall goblet all right. Better yet, she’d drink straight from the
bottle. Maybe that would wash away the memories of dark blue eyes, thick
fingers rocking against her hose, the addictive cologne she stilled smelled
every time she inhaled, all of which seemed stuck in her mind like a
half-watched movie she was desperate to finish.

Charlize nudged open the trunk and bent over, lowering in
the box. A door clicked next to her. She jerked up, spinning toward the Jeep. A
dark figure rushed out of the vehicle in a head-down bull charge. She choked on
a gasp and stumbled back. The body slammed into her. She fell to the ground,
her cheek hitting rock. Breath rushed out of her.

She raised her head and a meaty hand slapped over her mouth
and hauled her to her feet. Her legs flailed, struggling to gain leverage on
the moving ground. She sucked air through her nose. Stale tobacco wafted from
the fingers smothering her face. Her heart hammered in a sickening tempo.

She twisted and jerked like a cat in a pillowcase. An arm
clamped around her waist, pulling her to the larger vehicle. She dug her heels
into the dirt but her shoes flipped off her feet.

The open door of the Jeep loomed as if waiting to swallow
her. She threw out her arms and closed her fingers around the Mercedes’ rear
door handle. He tugged but she clutched the handle, halting their progress to
the open doorway. Her attacker changed tactics, pushing her against the door
she clutched. Her stinging cheek pressed into the cold window, the hand still
covered her mouth.

Damp cigarette breath blew against her ear as a chunky body
pressed against her. The adrenaline winding through her insides exploded into
her muscles. She shoved back, causing a satisfying crack as her skull connected
with the face behind her.

The hands loosened for a moment. “Fucking bitch!”

She scrambled, rearing from the car, but a fist in her hair
smashed her forehead into the window. The world spun and her body loosened.

“Think you’re a clever bitch don’t you? Well I’m gonna put
you in your place, cunt.”

Somewhere in her reeling mind she recognized the voice but
the knowledge disappeared beneath the whooshing in her ears. The hand in her
hair mauled its way down her body to her chest, groping at her breast. Her skin
pinched where his fingers moved roughly over it.

Wet breath hissed against her ear. “It’s not going to be quick,
bitch. I’m going to fuck you over slow. You’re going to be so sorry—so fucking
sorry, you cunt.”

Gregory
.

Awareness penetrated the painful fog. Nausea rose in her
belly. The hand on her breast dived down and tore her skirt up over the back of
her thighs. She yelled but the sound muffled to nonexistence in the fleshy palm
covering her mouth.

No
,
no
fucking
way
.
This isn’t
happening
.
Isn’t happening
…

His porky fingers reached the crevice of her backside and
curled into her hose. “No panties? You are a dirty cunt, aren’t you?”

Her pantyhose tore and she yelled again, but the sound
caught on a sob at the back of her throat. Cold met her ass cheeks. She threw
back her head again and bucked but he was ready, her movements proved useless.
A belt jingled behind her and she gasped through her nostrils. Her vision
blurred.

Trembles weakened her limbs. The world slowed. Nothing
mattered. It didn’t matter who she was. Bravado couldn’t save her and no amount
of fortitude would rescue her. Nothing more than a stronger arm rendered her a
soft, weak female.

A zipper creaked.

She extended her jaw, taking that stinking hand into her
mouth, and bit down. Her teeth crunched on sinew and skin. She clamped her jaw
like an animal—as if she could pierce bone. Warm, coppery blood flowed over her
tongue. She twisted her head, taking flesh with her. A shout rang in her ears,
the hand on her mouth disappeared but the weight still had her pinned.

He grabbed the back of her hair and her neck arched. Pain
tugged her scalp and chill air slid over the metallic coating on her tongue.

Charlize filled her chest and screamed—screamed from her
gut. The sound stretched, resonated through the lot, echoed off the building.
Her shout filled the night until the quiet corners seemed to come to life.

The beam of a flashlight kissed her eyes. A distant yell
reached them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned.

Suddenly she was free and then she was moving—moving toward
the light, moving faster than she thought humanly possible, moving as if she
were weightless, straight into the arms of the waiting security guard.

Hands steadied her and dust and rock hit the back of her
legs. The Jeep revved and tore out of the parking lot.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded up at the guard. John, he’d been night guard for
years. Why hadn’t she asked him to walk her out?

The suggestion prickled along her nerves. No, she’d thought
herself too capable for that. It was a miracle he’d even heard her scream. She
swallowed the sob itching against the walls of her chest.

“I’m calling the police. Is there anything you need? Anyone
else I can call for you?” John said, helping her back to the rear exit on her
scratched feet.

She clutched her gaping shirt and paused in the doorway.

Her voice shook. “Get me Connor Crowe.”

* * * * *

Connor strode through the corridors of General Hospital,
blood rushing abnormally under his skin. He reached the door, the scene
unfolded before him like re-runs of an old horror show.

Two police officers stood in front of a hospital bed. He
stepped inside and stalked through the room. A nurse hovered over a patient. He
pushed an officer aside.

A woman sat on the edge of the bed. Not a woman, Charlize… A
nurse stood beside her, dabbing at a graze on her cheek. He knew this
scene—knew what had happened. Not by the way she clutched the edges of her
shirt, not by her injuries, but by the tight pinch of her lips. The empty look
in her eyes.

He clenched his jaw, cutting off a budding roar. His hand
moved to his belt before he remembered… He didn’t carry a gun anymore. But some
fucker was still about to die.

A hand clamped on his arm. He snarled.

“Connor, buddy.”

He tore his eyes from Charlize to the officer touching him.
He blinked, snapping back to Earth. “Mark?”

His former partner patted his arm then jerked his head
toward the door. Connor followed him into the hall.

“You looked as if you were about to go Hulk in there. You
know her?”

Mark gave Connor an assessing gaze, eyes narrowed under
thick brows. It was the look. The calm-the-hell-down-partner look. Well they
weren’t partners anymore and Charlize was hurt.

“What the fuck happened to her? Tell me now, Mark, and don’t
be sugar-coating anything.”

Mark sighed. “It’s all right. She managed to get away before
any serious harm was done.”

His body shook. Thank god. “You mean she wasn’t raped?”

“No. Assaulted, roughed-up for sure but not raped.”

Connor’s shoulder thumped against the cold hallway wall and
he rubbed his brow. “Who did this?”

Mark cleared his throat. “Now, Connor, you’re not a
detective anymore. Leave it to us to help your girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? He hadn’t had one of those in a while. It didn’t
matter. For now Charlize was his, whether she agreed to it or not, and no one
would be touching her but him. They could call it whatever the fuck they
wanted.

“No. I need to know who it is if I’m going to protect her.”

Mark sighed. “Connor—”

“Mark—” he countered, a knife’s edge in his voice. “I won’t
go vigilante but I’m keeping her safe.”

Mark hooked his thumb in his belt and glanced into the room.
“It was an employee she gave the boot today, Gregory Craig.”

Gregory
Craig
. Connor would remember the name
and that fucker would sure as shit remember his once he caught up with him. “You
have him?”

“We’ve sent out a patrol to his house but they haven’t
gotten him yet.”

Connor watched his old partner, saw the pull of his right
cheek. The bastard did that when he was worried. “What’s going on, Mark?”

“We found zip ties at the scene. Must’ve fallen from his car
or he dropped them.” Mark looked back at Connor. “I think it was more than a
revenge sex attack. I think he was going to take her.”

Connor exploded off the wall. “What, you think he was going
to kidnap her?”

Mark grabbed his arm. “Calm down or I won’t be sharing
anything else. Got it?”

Connor rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. Calm down,
he could calm down. He could act calm. He’d be calm when he had Gregory’s
corpse.

He met Mark’s gaze. His partner’s gut had never been wrong. “You
tell me when there are any developments.”

Mark nodded. “Sure I’ll keep you updated. No vigilante,
right?”

Connor nodded and turned back into the room.

* * * * *

Two hours later, Conner watched Charlize punch the numbers
into the keypad next to the front door of her modern single-story duplex. He
committed the numbers to memory. Politeness would mean waiting for her to give
the code to him, but well—screw that.

She hung her handbag on a hook and strode into the kitchen.
The she-cat he’d met earlier had vanished and he had no idea what to say to
this subdued creature. Or how to act around her. She-cat he could manage.
She-cat he could fuck until she forgot her problems.

Cock therapy—the best kind.

He followed her to the kitchen and watched her swallow some
pills with a glass of water. She tipped her head back and her bedraggled bun
flopped to the side. His fists curled. She was probably in pain. A drop of
water trickled down her chin and trailed across her neck.

Blood rushed to his cock. He was a bastard. What the hell
was he supposed to do now, comfort her? He was shit at that. Besides, patting
her back would lead to stroking, which would lead to cupping that sweet ass of
hers, which would lead to—fuck. He’d behave tonight. After what she’d been
through he would keep his hands off. But soon. Soon that skin would be his.

She set down the glass. “You can put your things in the
guest room but you’ll have to sleep on the couch, there’s no extra bed.”

Connor looked around the open-plan house and—nothing. This
woman had no stuff. The central living area was empty and only a wrinkly,
oversized leather couch and glass coffee table sat in front of a plasma TV in
the corner. Two cardboard boxes rested against one blank wall.

“Did you just move in?”

“No. I’ve been here for over three months now.” Her voice
was flat. She picked up her glass again, rinsed it and set it in a strainer next
to the sink.

He gazed at the couch. A man’s couch. The whole place was
devoid of feminine influence. Girls didn’t live like this, not unless…

“Who do you live with, Charlize?”

For the first time since he’d seen her at the hospital her
eyes looked like they focused properly.

“No one. What are you talking about?”

He frowned. “That looks like a dude’s couch.”

Charlize’s forehead scrunched. “So because I have a vagina I
should have floral furniture?”

She-cat inched back. He wouldn’t smirk, he’d go easy on her
tonight. Kinda. “No I just thought women had taste. That thing’s fucking
hideous.”

Her gaze snapped to the couch and her mouth slanted. “Yeah
it is, I fucking hate it. It’s the only furniture my ex would let me take. I
figured I’d better keep it.”

Ex? She’d lived with someone? He crossed his arms to keep
them from grabbing her like a possessive asshole. He wasn’t jealous. He just
didn’t like people touching his stuff—so what if she wasn’t his yet, she would
be soon. He’d have her soft and yielding in no time.

Yielding. Yeah she would be. He’d strip back that
act—underneath she’d be all woman. He swallowed. “Burn it.”

A hint of a real smile twitched the slant on her lips. “I
might.”

Her shoulders drooped again and she strode to a door off the
main living area. “This is the guest room. There are pillows and blankets in
the wardrobe and it has a bathroom. I assume you know how to use a kitchen.
Help yourself to whatever you want, I’m going to bed.”

Help myself to whatever I want
…

She stood next to the door—bare feet, lopsided bun, still
clutching her shirt together, missing the usual bite of her aloofness. She’d
somehow gotten sexier. Did she have any clue what he planned to help himself
to?

“You can stop looking at me like that, Caveman. So we’re
clear, my room is off-limits. Don’t come near it, hear me?”

He grinned and swaggered over to the guest room door. “I can
wait ’til I’m invited, kitten.”