Guarding His Heart (3 page)

Chapter
3

“L
et me know if I can do anything,”

The door shut with a click.

Was that Dana’s voice? Who was she speaking to? Where am I?

Cassie’s fingers gripped a throw and the mattress cushioned her as she rolled to her side. Sunlight filtered into the room and dust motes floated in the rays like dandelion seeds on the wind. Her gaze fell on her bag on the floor.

My room. Wiccan Haus. My life just gets better and better.

Silence in the room was disturbed by birdsong outside the window and the slow, rhythmic breathing of someone in the room.

Fear seized her for a moment, clogging her breath in her throat.

Breathe! Dana would not leave me in danger. Probably a nurse.

She fought to order her memories. She’d gone down to get some air and found Dana. They’d walked to the arbor. The loud boom and ensuing noise had frightened her then annoyed her. She’d decided to return to her room. Allan’s dead bodyguard had appeared out of nowhere.

Like before.

He’s alive.

She must have fainted. She couldn’t remember anything between that shocking moment when he stood before her on the path—decidedly not dead—and now.

Was he sitting vigil? The man who’d saved her?

Only one way to find out.

Slowly, half afraid and half hoping, she rolled to her other side. Butterflies flitted in her stomach, trying to escape out her throat. Her heart pounded against her ribcage when her gaze settled on the huge man standing with his back to her, looking out the window.

Even in shadow, this man had to be her hero. Same erect posture, same immense height. His tanned, lightly furred forearms had the same long lean muscles she’d admired for months. His perfect ass was identical to the man’s backside she’d drooled over in the privacy of her apartment. Wavy hair the color of pine bark curled against his neck.

But he’d died.

She took a few seconds to calm her rattled nerves and concentrated on controlling her breathing.
In, slowly, hold, release. Repeat
. After a couple of breaths, her mind cleared but still raced.

Maybe, my imagination is playing a trick on me. Maybe I dreamed of him and never left my room.

She had to find out. After all, mental health professionals had proclaimed her “unstable.” She hated to prove them right.

Scooting across the queen sized bed, she moved as quietly as possible, expecting him to vanish before her eyes the same way he’d appeared twice before. Surely he heard the pounding of her heart; it sounded like a bass drum in her head. What if he morphed into the creature she’d seen for a split second on that awful day?

Odd that she was more afraid her imagination was playing tricks on her than she was of the beast.

He remained stock still as she placed her feet on the floor and slowly stood.

Three steps until she could reach out and touch him. Make him real.

Come on, damn it! I can do this. I have to do this or else I’ll always wonder if I’m crazy.

A few deep breaths—surely he could hear the rasp of her breath. She gathered all her courage.

One, two, three steps, then reach—

Oh, God, he’s flesh and blood. He’s real
. Hot tears burned her eyes before streaming down her face. Relief flooded her body, mixed with confusion.

What is he doing here? I saw him die.

Questions whirled in her brain like a tornado, wild and uncontrolled. Nothing made sense. She fought a sob rising in her throat and tightened her grip on his arm. He was real and alive and she clung to that shred of reality.

He’s here. He’s alive!

His muscles tightened under her touch. Springy dark hair over warm tan skin disguised sculpted granite hard muscles. His large calloused hand covered hers as he turned to face her. In the late afternoon light, his face softened as he looked at her—or was that her imagination?

His blue eyes locked onto hers.

The same stormy blue eyes she remembered from the man she couldn’t forget. The man who had given his life for her and Allan was standing right here in front of her.

“Hello, Cassidy. We’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Trevor Greene.”

His voice rumbled low through her, her stomach jumping at the sound. Another sign he was real and she wasn’t imagining him, thank God. Her erratic pulse skipped and sped, her breathing came in little gasps. Her fingers itched to dive into his short brown hair, stroke the light stubble on his cheeks.

I’m like a lovesick teenager. Calm down.

She looked up into his face. He was almost a foot taller than she. Those sea blue eyes seemed to gaze right into her soul. Would those thin masculine lips part into a smile for her?

“You’re alive!” she whispered, though it sounded loud to her ears. “I thought you were dead. Knew you were dead.” She shook her head and clamped her lips together because she was babbling like a fool.

Embarrassed when her voice broke, she hid her face against his chest. She needed a moment to regain some semblance of composure.

Warmth from his skin blazed from her fingertips to her chest. Her hidden desire rose in instant response, suffusing her body with an incandescent heat. His scent, fresh pine and delicious male, wound round her like an embrace. Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely think, and her breath caught in her lungs. She gasped.

His loneliness called to her as it always had. Strong and solitary, he was a kindred spirit. He kept a secret that kept him separate, yet it only added to his appeal.

His body was warm solid muscle and she slid her arms around his waist, holding on like her life depended on it. She filled her lungs with his scent, it reminded her of the forest after the rain. Her hero was one hot, intoxicating male. One moment more, she promised herself, since he had not responded. What would she do then?

Barely had the thought coalesced in her brain when his arms enveloped her in a tight hold. A soul deep sigh expelled from his lungs. What was on his mind?

Trevor pulled back and with one finger tipped up her chin.

“Cassie.”

Her name was dragged from deep inside him. Before she had time for another thought, he brushed her lips with his.

Thoughts ceased. Her mind shut down and her body and heart took over. She opened to his gentle exploring mouth, her fingers moving beneath his loose T-shirt and up the taut muscles of his back to dig in and hold on. She darted her tongue past his lips, drawing a groan so deep it sounded more like a growl.

His hand gripped her hair at the nape of her neck. He plunged his tongue deep, took absolute control, and plastered her to the length of his hard body.

Her mind short circuited. Colors exploded behind her closed eyelids. She clutched at the long lean muscles of his back as the soft fabric bunched in her hands. Adrenaline coursed through her like lightning zapping her nerve endings. Every synapse fired with the sweep of his tongue, the nip of his teeth.

She matched his passion in her kiss, pouring everything into her response. Her breasts ached for his touch. She pressed harder to him, her nipples tightening, heat pooling between her thighs.

God, his body was harder than she’d fantasized on long nights alone. His skin warmer, his kiss more intense. He made her feel alive and sexy.

Yes
.
Yes. I want more.

She moved her hand south but he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.

Staring at him, her chest heaving with passion and confusion, she struggled to ask what was wrong.
What the hell was she doing? And more importantly,
why had he stopped?
No intelligible words came to her.

He dragged a hand through his hair, his gaze still on her, his breath quick and harsh. So he was affected too. He closed his eyes.

He backed away from her, his jaw hard, hands in fists.

Leaving her thoroughly confused.

He shook his head, his eyes closed and his nostrils flared. “I can’t do this, Cassie. I want to, but I can’t.” He started toward the door then stopped, his hand on the door knob. “Shit.” He slammed his fist on the door.

With his forehead against the door, he muttered, “I need you to help me to get down to the lobby.”

Okay. Strange, but okay
. Strange was the new normal at this place. In her life.

“Trevor,” she began, but seeing the furrowed brow, the almost pain in his eyes, she simply nodded and followed him out into the hallway.

“Lock the door.”

“Huh?”

“Go grab your key and lock your door.” He leaned heavily against the wall next to the elevator.

We have a searing hot kiss and he wants to talk about security? Whatever
.

“It’s in my pocket.” Grinding her teeth against the frustration and stung by the humiliation of being rejected, she dug in her shorts and produced the key, then pulled the door tight, jiggling the knob to prove it was secured. With more force than necessary, she jammed the key back into her pocket and punched the down button for the elevator.

For a moment after he straightened to his full height, he looked down at her. His empty stare, the downturned corners of his mouth, the heavy sigh all indicated a regret that almost made her forget her anger. Almost.

Bing!

Anger still burning in her chest, she moved into the elevator. He had to duck a little to enter to avoid taking off the top of his head.

A shame
,
he could use some sense knocked into him
.

Anger at being rejected was better than embarrassment for the need still throbbing between her legs. His scent still pulled her, her body still tingled from his touch, her lips still trembled from his kiss.

Did I do something wrong? Is he taken? Oh, God, is he married?

The possible reasons for his rejection swirled in her brain. He’d been as affected by the kiss as she was; his erection was as rock hard as the rest of him.

He waited for her to push the button for the lobby. The elevator began its descent and she couldn’t stand it one more minute. Her emotions spun wildly out of control. Perhaps it was dealing with the aftermath of being attacked in what she thought of as her sacred space. Getting locked up for what she saw could have added to her reaction.

She needed answers. Maybe he knew the reason for the assault on the school.

She slammed the emergency stop button, stumbling slightly as the car jerked to a sudden stop. When Trevor reached out to steady her, she snatched her arm from his gentle grasp. Slight remorse niggled her at his pained expression, but she held tight to her anger. His rejection still stung.

She backed against the handrail and glared at him.

“You never explained how you just appear.”

He returned her gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It’s one of the things I use to protect my charges.”

Charges? Things he uses?

“What are you? Secret Service?”

“Not exactly, but I am assigned to protect certain individuals.”

Too vague. And not exactly true.
Certainly not what she saw.

“And Allan is your charge?” Her heart pounded now as she was pulled back to that day. She refused to get derailed.
The past
is the past
.

“Yes.”

From the clipped answers, he could have been FBI, but he wasn’t.

“He’s okay, thanks to you.” He had to be wondering about Allan. He’d been the boy’s bodyguard, always so attentive, so kind. No way he was only doing a job.

“Thank you for telling me.” While his face was expressionless, his voice cracked, betraying his affection. He did care about the boy.

Anger drained from her, replaced by resignation. What was left to say? He wasn’t giving her answers, at least not the ones she needed. She pushed the button to resume operation and the elevator jerked back to life.

Once at the lobby, the doors opened to anxious faces, including Sage’s.

She found one more thing to say.

“Thank you for saving my life. Goodbye.” Tears streaked down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Let her go, Trevor.”

Sage had him by the arm, dragging him out of the elevator.

“Botched it again, did you?”

Damn, she was one observant bitch. He liked her, but did she have to rub salt in his open wound?

“Probably.”

“Probably?” The smirk on her face stirred the beast within. When he growled at her, she shrugged and smacked his arm. “Don’t you growl at me, and don’t even think about releasing your inner animal on me. Especially in full view of my guests. You’ll give them a heart attack.”

“I need to find Cassie.” He headed toward the front doors, where he’d last seen her.

Cemil stepped in front of him and blocked his way. “Give her some time, Trevor.”

As Trevor made to push past him, Cemil grabbed his arm and held on.

“So, my friend, she offered herself and you refused? Women don’t take rejection well. You need to give her tonight to calm down. Especially since you haven’t told her she is your new assignment.”