For His Protection (6 page)

“Not that it’s your business but it’s nothing like that.”

Ty’s leg relaxed and he wriggled back against the couch. “So
how do your parents feel about their child's dangerous ambitions?”

“I’d like to think that if they were alive, they’d be
proud.” She glanced up, then let out a groan. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t give me
that look. I’m no sad little orphan.”

Ek, pity.

He did the soft thing with his eyes.
Not fair.
He
shouldn’t get to be all manly then sweetly boyish all with the same face.

“Look I never even knew them. They were in a car accident
when I was two.” She dropped the cool-pack and picked up the bandage, snapping
it open and pulling the end tight. “My grandparents did a fine job raising me.
It’s no great tragedy.”

“You don’t think it’s a tragedy you never knew your
parents?”

Her throat constricted. She yanked up the leg of his track
pants and wound the bandage. What in the hell was she still doing here with Ty?
He had some kind of skull-opening, brain-messing ability. She hadn’t been
bothered by this tight, achy, lost feeling since she was a kid. Yet somehow with
a few words he had her right back there—at that place she’d been at as a
kid—wishing she knew what it was like to be part of a real family—longing to
have one of her own one day.

Fuck.

Dangerous longings for someone in her position. Such
longings could only end in outright disaster. That life had never and
could
never
be hers.

“What would you have me do?” She pulled the bandage tight.
“Cry about it? Is that the appropriate response?” She fastened the end of the
bandage. “I’m not the crying type.”

Ty leaned forward. “No, Brooke—”

Brooke stood, letting his foot fall off her lap. “This isn’t
the kind of thing I discuss with
clients
.” She scooped up the cool-pack
and dropped it on his leg. “I think I’ll go see that room now.”

She turned and walked to kitchen, picked up her back and
went to find the one space she might actually have some peace from Ty. Yet
something told her, so long as Ty was around, peace was the last thing she
could expect.

Brooke smoothed her pants and stepped into Ty’s dining room.
She had barely spoken two words to him since their discussion the day before.
She had gone to bed early, and for the second night in a row, tossed and turned
and tried not to imagine things she would do better forgetting.

Ty glanced at her over the top of his paper. “Nope, not
going to work.”

“What?” She said, touching her face. The way her head
thumped this morning she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d brushed her teeth with
her mascara brush.

Ty went back to his newspaper, and turned the page.
“Whatever that is you're wearing, sweetheart.”

Brooke glanced down at her work ensemble. Her practical,
functional, if not a little baggy, pants suit. “This is what I work in. It’s
this or I break out the leather.” She clipped her phone to her belt buckle.
“Deal with it.”

So they were back to this, banter and games? Did he know
nothing? You just don’t mess with a bitch before her morning coffee.

He folded his paper and laid it on the table. “No, you're
supposed to be
my
PA, yet you couldn’t be more obvious if you strapped a
holster over that jacket.” He raised a cup to his lips and looked at her over
the rim with an expression that said
now you deal with that.

She strutted to the table, reached past him to the fruit
bowl and plucked out a shiny green apple, then rubbed it on her shirt.

So you want a pin-up secretary do you?

Exposed seam stockings, platform heels, and glasses…
Typical
.

“I’m sorry, boss, I don’t own anything my pussy shows in.”

Coffee sloshed over the newspaper. Ty coughed. Brooke raised
the apple and took a large, loud bite, chewing over her grin.

How do you like them apples?

He wiped his wide lips with a napkin and leveled her with
his gaze. Her grin faded and she swallowed the apple.

“Brooke, when you show me your pussy I promise you it won’t
be because your dress is too short.” He balled the napkin in his palm and
lowered his voice. “But now you know, don’t you, that for the rest of the day
that’s all I’m going to be thinking of. You and your pussy. When you walk past
me, when you speak to me, when you breathe the same air I do, that is all I’ll
be thinking about.”

Heat burst over her skin, only partially with the outrage
the Brooke from two days ago would have experienced. The rest was something
else—anticipation, and God help her, a searing arousal that assured her for the
rest of the day whatever she did she’d be thinking of this moment too.

She placed the apple on the table. Bastard recovered a
little too quickly for her liking. “Ever heard of sexual harassment?”

“You mean such as your bodyguard instructing you to stroke
your cock?”

Images flashed through her mind throwing her systems into
meltdown. Ty’s fist wrapped around his cock, water running over his straining
muscles.

Sweat gathered between her shoulders against her shirt. Her
jacket might as well have been made of hot coals. Dammit, asshole knew how to
land a punch. She didn’t know whether to leap across the space and slap his
smug face or do something else to it entirely. But she did know one thing—this
ability he had of getting to her wouldn’t end well for one of them.

“I’m going to change,” she gritted out and stepped toward
the kitchen.

“Have your coffee first—while it's hot.”

She paused and turned to him, her fingers curling. He slid a
coffee across the breakfast table. A cup layered with foam and dusted with
cocoa, not to mention the type of aroma that only came from freshly ground
beans. Yet another one of her weaknesses he’d somehow uncovered. Her only
guilty indulgence.

Pretty fool just saved his life.

Perhaps he’d survive the morning after all. She picked up
the cup and took a sip. The coffee was warm and freaking amazing, almost a
shame really. She tipped the cup back and drained the contents then set it down
with a clink. “Changing now.”

She went to the bedroom and jerked off the suit then slid on
her multipurpose black dress. Knee length but with an overlapping split that
allowed for kick-space. All good clothing must factor in thigh-raising
kick-space. She slipped on modest, kitten-heel pumps that at least had the
ability to inflict stomping pain and then went back to the breakfast table.

“Satisfied?” she said, twirling then placing her hands on
her hips.

Ty stood, collecting the empty cups. His gaze ran over her
before turning back to his task. “You're perfect.”

She cleared her throat. “Well you might regret this when I
have to chase down someone for you while I’m wearing these heels.”

He walked toward the kitchen with dishes in hand, a sly
smile back on his face. “Hey, you want to look the part, don’t you? My personal
assistants always wear heels.”

“Hmm I wonder what else is in their contract…” she
whispered.

* * * * *

Brooke’s head fell back against the headrest as they arrived
at the Black Trident building. The tower rose toward the sky—metal, windows and
a rounded dome top, reflecting blue as if it were made of water.
Amazing.
She cast a look at Ty. How old was he? A few years older than her twenty-three
years?

“Did
you
build this?”

The car turned toward the underground parking lot, closing
off her view. He glanced at her, then paused and wound down his window to punch
in a passcode at the ramp to the next level.

“Black Trident was the first project Dad and I took on
together.” He pulled into a space next to an elevator with a large gold name
plate screwed into the cement and brick wall, then pulled the handbrake up. “It
was a few months after the accident when I was still in college. I know he included
me in the project to distract me, give me something to focus on.” He turned to
her, a slow smile spreading his lips. “I just don’t think he expected I’d be so
fucking good at it.”

“You’re all modesty, aren’t you?”

He winked. Devilish laugh lines crinkled his eyes. The
action sent her chest fluttering. They exited the car but Ty walked right past
the elevator beside them and toward another located in the center of the
parking lot. He pressed a button and the doors opened. They stepped inside. Ty
scanned a card and pressed the button to the top floor.

“I’ll show you where you can set up, then I’ll have Ken from
security take you around.” He tugged the knot on his tie tighter and rolled his
shoulders.

Brooke nodded, watching as his demeanor changed just as
surely as if he’d stepped into a different body. He became the man in the mask
she’d met that first night. All power, all control, completely in charge. It
didn’t matter if he was twenty-five or fifty-five, this man was a leader. She
hadn’t noticed until then just how different he was when it was only the two of
them. The way he softened, loosened, opened.

She placed a hand on her warming belly. Obviously she’d drunk
that coffee too quickly. The doors opened to a floor bursting with light. She
stepped onto glistening gray tiles, glancing up to the roof, to the glass dome
drenching them in filtered sun rays. She stood there, taking in the magnitude,
the surreal beauty.

“You like?” Ty whispered beside her.

“It’s freaking magnificent.” She turned around, noticing the
marble surround on the elevator they had just stepped out of, the gold buttons
on the wall beside it. Green plants sprang from oversize pots on either side.
Brooke turned full circle. A modern fountain with arching steel sculpture
dominated the middle of the space. Ty touched her arm and she glanced at him.
His expression had slipped, showing her that hint of warmth that seemed
reserved for her.

“This way.” He led her through the foyer past the main
reception desk to a doorway, then scanned his card again on a panel. The door
clicked open and they walked into an area that looked more like any other good
office building.

“You don’t have a guard in reception?”

He took a hallway to the left. “It’s unnecessary. There’s
secure access from the parking lot and security at the ground floor main
entrance.”

Brooke huffed then stumbled. She fell on Ty, grabbing at him
as if she had jelly feet. His arm came around her, wrapping around her waist.
He looked down at her. His large brown eyes flickered. Her head swirled but she
slid an arm around him, wiggling a foot in her shoe.

“Sorry, warned you about heels.”

Her chest pressed against his for a moment before she drew
back. Ty remained still, then came back to life, showing her to the end of the
hallway and another secure door.

“This is the executive area. Only authorized staff members
have access.
No one
unauthorized is getting in here.”

Ty fished in his pocket.

“Is that so?” Brooke asked, a smirk twitching her mouth.

Ty’s face scrunched as he explored his other pocket.

“Allow me to assist.” Brooke stepped forward and swiped a
card in her hand against the security panel. She pushed the handle and held the
door open for Ty. He remained on the other side, the look on his face tempting
her to dig out her phone to take a picture.

“You picked my pocket?” He stepped through the threshold,
shaking his head.

“I have boobs, how hard do you think it is for me to
distract you?”

His gaze traveled to her chest, his smile slow and brazen.
“Well in that case consider me open to distractions.”

Brooke shoved the security card at him. “I was proving a
point.”

“And you proved it sublimely.” He took the card, closing his
fingers around hers before tugging the card free and continuing down a shorter
hall. “That’s the elevator directly to my parking space.” He motioned to a
simple lift on his right.

“So we took the other one because—are you trying to impress
me, Mr. Black?”

Ty cleared his throat and led her into a small reception area
with an unmanned desk. “Just showing you around.”

Brooke smiled behind his back. “I don’t generally impress.
But your building
is
pretty. Maybe you were modest after all.”

Ty glanced at her. “This is where my PA usually sits,” he
said, then pointed to polished wood double doors. “And my office.”

“So I’ll position myself out here? Are there any other
entrances to your office?”

He finally turned to her. “No, but you won't work out here.
I want you where I can see you.”

Her cheeks warmed and she raised her jaw. “Don’t you mean
where I can see you?”

“Either way,” he said, “as long as you’re close.”

She held his gaze, more warmth traveling to the surface of
her body. Buzzing sounded from the reception desk. He ushered her into his
office.

“My actual PA is working from down the hall and filtering
calls so all you’ll have to do is look like an assistant if someone comes in.”

Brooke paused in the doorway then strode directly to the
rear of the office. The Seattle skyline stretched outside windows that extended
the entire expanse of the wall.

Fuck me.

She resisted the urge to press her palms flat to the glass
and look down as a child might do. Instead she clasped her hands behind her
back.

“You can sit wherever you like. There’s no lack of options.”

Brooke turned, scanning the rest of the office. A glossy white
desk sat near the windows adjacent to a set of gray fabric couches. A glass
conference table with white chairs took up the center of the room and a row of
small tables holding model buildings lined another wall. Her attention was
drawn to the small tree in the corner, which brought a pop of color and life to
the room. Simple, elegant and an entirely nice place from which to work. She
glanced at Ty, who stood in front of the desk, his hands in his pockets,
watching her as if he could read every one of her thoughts from her face.

Far too smug—and he didn’t know her at all.

“Okay, I will,” Brooke said and brushed past him then
planted herself in the high-backed chair behind the desk. She wiggled forward,
linking her fingers on the desktop.

“Are you so cheeky with all your clients?”

She smiled wide. “Never. Don’t need to be. The others are
far too afraid to provoke me.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice.
“They’re smart.”

He rested his palms on the desk, looking everything
but
afraid to provoke. “Well, that spot does suit you.” He leaned in. “But you’re
forgetting
my
one rule.”

“Which rule is that?” Brooke asked, refusing to draw back
from him.

Ty stepped around the desk, coming to stand at her side
without breaking eye-contact. “Look like my assistant. But then I knew any kind
of subservience would go against the grain.”

Brooke raised a single eyebrow. She had muscle control down
to an art when it came to disdain. “If that’s what you want, as I’ve told you
before—wrong girl.”

He grasped the arm of the chair, turning it toward him.

Her knees brushed against his and she fell back into the
seat.

“I think we both know that’s not true, Brooke.” He placed
both hands on the arms of the chair, trapping her in. “But today
you
work for
me
. Today, you are my girl.”

Brooke breathed deeply.

“So if you want to sit in
my
chair, you sit on
my
knee.”

A shiver, hot like from a fever, ran up her center. Her
eyelids drifted lower but she refused to let them close to absorb the image of
nestling in Ty’s lap.

“Now that would be acceptable.” His voice lowered to a
whisper. “I promise you’ll enjoy your seat.”

Her eyes widened at his words and the implication of all the
things that might be possible in that scenario.

The phone on the desk rang in a series of low beeps. He
stood and reached for the receiver. Brooke seized the gap and rose from the
chair, crossing the room and pretending the potted tree was far more
fascinating than it really was.