For His Protection (11 page)

“You’re dripping on the carpet.”

He glanced down to see a crimson drop fall from his hand and
bloom on the beige carpet like a petal unfurling. Ty ignored the mess and
looked at her. “We need to talk.”

Brooke frowned but didn’t put up the fight he’d thought she
would.

“Let me take care of that first,” she said and left the room
before he could stop her.

Ty shook his head at her retreating back and sighed then
tugged off his shirt and wound it around his hand. Brooke swept back into the
room with a plastic box. Her steps slowed when she ran her attention over his
exposed torso.

“Give me your hand,” she demanded.

Ever his bossy angel. He held out his arm and she took it
and unwound the shirt. Her breath hissed between her lips but she said nothing.
Brooke sprayed an antiseptic mist from her kit onto his skin and her tongue
flicked out.

“See what happens when I leave you alone for a minute? Maybe
it’s time to admit you need protection.” Her voice started off light but her
smile didn’t work, her attempted ribbing falling flat.

“What I need, Brooke, is you. I can admit that. I think it’s
time you admit you need me too.”

She stiffened but applied a wad of gauze over his knuckles
then wound a bandage firmly around his hand. Her lips pressed together,
creating little dimples at the corners of her mouth. He studied her. Pain
radiated off her thick enough to taste yet as always, her back remained
straight. She would deny it even to herself—that something hurt.

But now he understood what drove her and he would do
something about it.

“I’m sorry I stormed out. I was upset.”

Her movements slowed by a fraction but she didn’t look at
him. “I understand; anyone would be upset by what you heard.”

“Anyone would be upset?” he stammered, “Fuck, Brooke, I
really don’t think you understand at all.”

He flipped his hand over and grabbed the one she used to
tend to his knuckles. The end of the bandage fell from her grip. Her gaze
snapped to him. He’d broken her cardinal rule—touching. But it was time to start
doing something about all these rules. The system she’d built around herself
needed to come down.

“You think I’m anyone? Do you have any idea what it did to
me to hear those things? Do you have any clue how much it killed me to know
that shit happened to you and there’s nothing I can do about it?” His voice
sounded broken even to his own ears.

Brooke’s lashes drifted closed as if looking away could
block out his words. “That’s just the thing—you aren’t supposed to be able to do
something about it. I’m not your responsibility; you don’t owe me anything.”
Her eyes opened and their pure blue focused on him. “I know you’ve had this
fantasy about me all these years. But that’s all it is, just a fantasy. I’m not
that
girl. I’m not the girl you want me to be.” She swallowed and
dropped his gaze. “And I don’t want you the way you think I do.”

“I call bullshit, sweetheart. You think I couldn’t smell the
heat on you earlier?” He lowered his voice and relaxed his hold on her. “You
think I couldn’t feel these fingers tremble against my skin?”

Brooke snatched her hand free and snapped the lid closed on
her first aid kit. Her eyes seemed to look through him not at him when she
spoke. “I like the way your cock looks in your hand, don’t go mistaking that
for feelings. I don’t do those.”

He brushed off the sting of her words. Brooke lied so much
about her own feelings he wasn’t sure if she knew the truth herself or not. But
what it must have taken for her to come to him the way she had… She obviously
couldn't resist him anymore than he could resist her.

She turned to leave.

He was on to her. Knew how she worked. She thought she could
say something shocking or hurtful and he’d back away. Well she was about to
learn that Tyler Black doesn’t back away.

He’d give her one last chance to decide how they would have
to handle this. “Look at me, Brooke.”

She stopped and turned back to him. He caught the flash of
sadness she smothered under a hard frown.

“I’m only going to ask you once to be honest, and this time
I want you to tell me the truth.” He straightened his spine and looked directly
at her. “Do you have feelings for me?”

Brooke swallowed and lifted her chin. She opened her mouth.

“Remember, Brooke, the truth or everything changes.”

She looked away, fixing her gaze on the mark on the carpet.
“I don’t have feelings for you.”

“None?” He watched her cross her arms under her bust.

“No, none.” She stared a hole through the stain.

He stepped closer and the subtle apple scent of her shampoo
filled his lungs. “You’re sure that’s your answer?”

She glanced up at him, her expression hard and flat. “Yes.”

Ty nodded and moved away. There was only one way to save her
now. A technique he’d learned from his past. Sometimes the only way to heal an
old injury is to go back in and break it.

The door closed with a thud, blowing the hair back from her
face.

No, he didn’t…

No, Ty, who treated her as if the sun shone out of her
damaged little ass hadn’t just told her to get out and then shut his office
door in her face.
No way.
She stared at the white high-gloss finish on
the door panel, mouth open. The asshole didn’t bluff. When he said everything
would change he went and freaking changed
everything
. No workouts
together, no provocative ice cream breaks, no cheeky flirtation, no looking at
her in a way that made her sweat through her suit jacket. He’d ignored her
all-fucking-day.

She turned around and tugged off her jacket then threw it at
the chair behind the PA desk she’d never actually used. What was she supposed
to do now? Sit there and file her nails?

He’s trying to punish me.

No more than she deserved. Not even half of what she
deserved actually. She deserved shit-loads worse than a dose of the cold
shoulder for being a cruel, nasty, heart-breaking bitch. She deserved every
second of sleeplessness she’d endured, imaging Ty’s hurt expression over and
over again. She deserved having her own heart broken.

Brooke swallowed over the fist-sized rock in her throat and
tried to pretend she wasn’t really experiencing that last part. She dragged
herself to the desk, perched herself on the edge and crossed her legs.

Really, what kind of sick cow lies to the face of a guy who
has just implored her for honesty? A guy who she’d just begun to know well
enough to understand he didn’t open himself up easily.

No, no, no.

She’d done the right thing. She’d done the only thing she
could. There was never going to be any chance of her having any kind of
normal
relationship. There was almost no chance of her ever even having sex like a
normal
person, let alone living his little romantic fantasy. It was better he get a
little hurt now than continue mooning after her. He’d end up miserable, unhappy
and unsatisfied and still chase her because of some twisted sense of
obligation.

She had done the right thing.

Oh shit, I’m going to die old, alone, miserable—and
fucking horny.

The door opened and she jumped up, stumbling for a moment on
her heels.

“Let’s go.”

Ty walked straight past her toward the lifts. Brooke
followed and stopped behind him while he pressed the button. The elevator
opened and they both stepped inside. She stood next to Ty but looked ahead.
Soft classical music filled the carriage. His phone beeped and he pulled it
from his breast pocket, turning it toward himself as he checked the display. Brooke
tried not to strain toward him.

“You’re going to need to dress up tonight. I’ve ordered
something for you to wear.”

Some of the sadness that clung to her like a blanket since
the night before lifted. Going out was just what they needed. Just because
there couldn’t be anything more between them didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy
each other’s company, right?

She looked at him. At least he was talking to her again.
“Where are we going?”

“I have a date,” he said, eyes focused on the digital
display screen above the control panel. The elevator beeped and the doors
opened into the basement car park. Ty stepped out.

Brooke watched him walk away, feeling as if that blanket had
come back with a lead insert. The doors shuddered closed and she leaped
forward, sticking her arm and shoulder between them until they opened again.
She jogged in her heels to Ty’s car space as he shut his door behind him. She
opened the passenger door and slid inside.

Ty started the engine and flipped the car into reverse. He
glanced over his shoulder, his gaze settling on her for barely a second before
it focused out the rear window and he pulled out of the parking space. Brooke
stared at the dash and listened to the revving of his car. Her heart seemed to
be accelerating faster than the engine. She bet if she put a stethoscope to her
chest, it would sound just as violent as the Maserati.

He has a date…

They turned onto the street. Brooke crossed her legs and
stared out the window. Did he think she was that naive? That she’d fall for
high school tactics? She linked her hands over her knee and her teeth squeezed
tight.

Buildings and roads flew by her window in a blur. They
turned into Ty’s street. She glanced across the silent interior at him. The
bastard looked straight ahead as if she weren’t even in the car. They arrived
at his building and parked in his garage.

Ty was wrong. It would take a little more than a fake date
to get to her. The fingers she linked together lost feeling as her grip
intensified. He couldn’t make her jealous and she’d make sure he knew it. She
turned to Ty, catching a glimpse of the back of his head as he ducked out of
the car. Brooke unclipped her seat belt and tossed it aside.

Dismissed again
.

She exited the car and followed him toward the elevator to
his apartment. Oh, she’d tell him exactly what she thought about his damn
immature, juvenile games. Ty stepped into the elevator and reached for a
button. The doors shuddered and she increased her pace. The large metal doors
closed off the view to Ty’s smug, brow-arching expression.

Her temper snapped. She kicked the shiny surface of the
elevator door. The sound boomed through the garage and her toes throbbed.

Oh you’re going to hear it now, Ty.

Brooke tugged off her heels and stormed to the stairwell.
She leaped up the stairs two at a time, only slowing at the fourth floor when
her muscles refused to react with the same intensity as her emotions. Damn, she
should have just waited for the elevator to come back down. She took deep,
harsh breaths but pushed herself up the last two flights. Her stupid, impulsive
decision to take the stairs was his fault too. He deliberately provoked her.
Deliberately tried to be an asshole. Deliberately tried to hurt her feelings by
pretending to be interested in someone else.

Brooke reached the top of the stairs and stumbled into the
penthouse foyer then rapped three times firmly on his door. He made her wait a
full two minutes before letting her in.

“You look a bit flustered.” Ty leaned against the door in
just his pants, unbuttoned shirt and bare feet.

She wasn’t going to look at him though. Wasn’t going to look
at that skin, that silky trail between his pecs. She pushed past him into the
apartment.

“I know what you’re doing and it won’t work so drop it.”

“Really, and what am I doing?” He shut the door.

Brooke snorted. “You’re being an asshole. Ignoring me,
trying to make me jealous with some bogus date. You’re trying to hurt my
feelings.”

Ty tucked his hands into his pockets and lowered his voice
to the light tones you use to speak to a child. “Sweetheart, how can I make you
jealous when you don't want me?”

The itchy, explosive feeling curling in her stomach
magnified and she scowled despite her efforts not to.

He stepped toward her, backing her against the couch. She
held her breath, refusing to let his scent sneak up and fog her brain as it
tended to do.

He leaned closer and brought his lips beside her ear. “How
can I possibly hurt your feelings when you don’t have any?” he whispered.

She gasped. His scent drifted into her lungs. That heady,
masculine smell rolled over her but his words hit her straight in the chest.
The back of her eyes burned and she shoved her palms into his chest and pushed
him.

“I guess I better get ready for your big date then,” she
said and stalked to the guestroom.

* * * * *

A fork in the eyeball might not be the most effective means
of murdering one’s foe but right then Brooke would bet it’d be pretty damn
satisfying. Her stare bored into the couple sitting across the restaurant
table. The other blonde rubbed herself against Ty’s shoulder and whispered
something in his ear. He gave a rich chuckle, leaned down to speak closely to
her then slid his arm around the woman’s shoulders. Brooke rotated the utensil
in her hand and imagined it sliding right through one of his date’s murky gray
eyes.

“It looks as if you could use some privacy, Mr. Black. I’ll
gladly move tables.”

A waiter strode to the table and placed three glasses of
champagne on the white linen tablecloth.

Ty didn’t glance up. “I told you already, Brittany
understands we don’t need privacy from you, Brooke.”

“Its fine, honey, Ty’s told me
all
about you,”
Brittany said, smiling over brightly bleached teeth.

The civilized expression Brooke cultivated twitched. “But
what will people think, you on a date with
two
women? I would gladly
stand in the entrance.”

Ty focused his attention on her for the first time since
they’d arrived at the French restaurant. “I don’t think it’d surprise anyone to
see me with two women.” He looked down at his date and grinned. “Especially two
beautiful, matching women.”

Brittany laughed, drawing looks from the other diners.

Brooke’s skin heated, flushed hot and prickly from her chest
all the way into her scalp. Oh someone was going to have to make a sacrifice to
the pointy end of her fork all right. Her gaze flicked to Brittany. She wasn’t
sure what was worse—that his date was Brooke two-point-bimbo-zero, same blonde
hair, same long limbs but with three times the bust and ten times the makeup—or
that he’d dressed them the fucking
same
. She glared at the plunging blue
neckline of Brittany’s identical satin dress. No, maybe the worst bit was that Ty
decided to dress her in the pink version.

Always with the damn Barbie colors
.

Brooke picked up a glass from the table and drained it in
three long gulps. The bubbles burned the back of her nose and she set down the
empty glass. Great, now she could add drinking on the job to the long list of
professional boo-boos she’d made since working for Ty.

At least things couldn’t get much worse, right?

The waiter arrived with their food and Brooke jammed her
fork into her salad, skewering lettuce leaves. Ty swirled a spoon of pasta from
his plate and held it out to Brittany. She laughed and opened her thickly
painted lips, accepting his offering. A dribble of thick, creamy sauce trickled
down her chin.

Brooke shoveled the lettuce into her mouth and chewed
briskly.

“Want a taste, Brooke?” Ty asked from across the table.

Brooke looked up and continued to chew with an aggression
more potent than words.

He extended a fork toward her. Steam rose from the pasta.
Bits of bacon clung to the pale strands, bathing her in a rich aroma that clung
to her nostrils.

“It’s good,” he said.

Brooke swallowed, looked him in the eye and stabbed her fork
right through a chunk of tomato.

Ty just smiled and brought the fork toward his lips. “That’s
right, we wouldn’t want to risk you enjoying it, now would we? Not when it
might not be good for you.”

He pulled the pasta off the fork with his teeth and chewed.
His lips glistened. Her gaze flicked to his mouth and just as in the park the
day before not even the rage expanding her blood vessels could stop her from
wanting those lips on her. Her heart squeezed and the energy seeped out of her.
She deserved to be punished for hurting him so if he wanted to torture her, he
could go right ahead. She’d taken worse and survived.

The back of her throat ached. Brooke picked up her napkin
and dabbed her lips then set it down. “I need the bathroom.” She stood and
glanced back at Ty. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”

“I know how to behave, remember?” he asked.

Her fingers shook and she squeezed them into a fist. Damn
right she remembered. She’d never forget. Brooke turned away and made her way
to the ladies’ room at the rear of the restaurant.

Brooke pushed through the swinging doors and went right to
the basin. She ran her hands under cold water and wiped them on paper towel
then pressed her palms to her cheeks. Finally she raised her gaze to the
mirror.

Shit
.

Her skin was pink all the way to her temples. She ran her
cool fingers over her forehead, cursing whichever genes gave her such
transparent skin, almost white eyebrows you could see through and hair yellow
to the root. She’d never wasted time on her appearance but if she could change
one thing, she’d be a bottle-blonde like Brittany. She’d have enough warmth in
her tone to hide her sins.

Brooke rested her hands on the edge of the basin and took a
few long, slow breaths.

Then several more.

The bathroom door creaked and she stepped back as a woman
walked past her to a cubicle. She tugged at the bust of her dress then went
back to the table. Ty saw her and stood, helping Brittany to her feet.

Brooke raised a brow. “No dessert for your date, Ty?”

“I have something else planned for dessert, don’t worry,” he
said in a voice that destroyed whatever progress Brooke had made at diminishing
her flush.

He placed his hand to the small of Brittany’s back, guiding
her to the door. Brooke followed behind them, watching Ty’s splayed fingers on
Brittany’s skin. They looked like a couple. His hand on her back, guiding her
toward his car. Brooke’s stomach clenched. That would never be her. She’d never
be led by a touch on her spine, never giggle and flick her hair. Never accept
forkfuls of someone else’s meal. She climbed into the small rear of the car,
letting Brittany take the front next to Ty.

She stared out the window, tuning out the small talk from
the front of the car. Ty turned, pulling the car into the large entrance of a
schmancy hotel. He got out and opened the door for Brittany. Brooke climbed out
after her then shut the door. Ty tossed the keys to a valet then led them
through the main foyer doors.