His words didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of pressing closer to murmur similar sentiments in his ear, she stiffened, speaking out of the corner of her mouth in a low harsh tone, “You can stop this sexual bullshit right now. I don’t do attached men, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Jerking his head back, he frowned down into her dangerously glittering silver eyes. “What makes you think I’m attached?”
“Are you denying that Pamela, whatever-her-name-is, is planning to marry you?”
He stifled the expletive that sprang to his lips, wondering who’d spoken to her. “Look, Brig, the situation is complicated. I don’t want to discuss Pamela behind her back, just as I wouldn’t discuss you with Pamela.”
“Well bully for you, Princeling, except that there is no you and me, and never will be. I hired out to protect you and I’ll complete my assignment to the full extent of my abilities. But as soon as the conference is over, I’m on the first shuttle out of here, and it can’t come soon enough for me. Now, if you want to fire me, fine. Otherwise, go back to what you were doing and let me get on with my job.”
* * * *
There was a charged silence for long seconds while his hot blue gaze bored into hers, then he inclined his head and strode away. Within seconds, a group of people had encircled him, and Brig was left to get a grip on her emotions.
In spite of everything, she couldn’t drive out her all-consuming hunger for the man, as if she’d been starving for years and hadn’t known it until a feast was set in front of her.
When she looked at him again, he was deep in conversation with another group of delegates. A few moments later, Brig saw Pamela saunter toward the prince and take up a position behind him again, tapping her fingers impatiently against her upper arms while she waited. As soon as Cameron moved away from the present group, presumably to head to another, Pamela hurriedly stepped in front of him, placing a palm on his chest as she pushed her lips into a moue of appeal.
Annoyingly, even Brig’s sharp ears couldn’t pick up their words above the stream of conversation and music, but a few moments later, the prince led a beaming Pamela onto the dance floor. Brig kept them in sight as they moved among the other dancers, Pamela’s blonde hair capturing the light as they swirled through a waltz. They seemed to have a lot to talk about, well, Pamela did while Cameron showed interest, bending his head to listen to her murmured confidences.
Without thinking, Brig grabbed a fresh glass of champagne from a passing tray, and glugged it.
If that superficial son of a bitch knows what’s good for him, he’d better not come near me again with hard-ons
.
Ten minutes later, Brig watched Cameron and Pamela move off the dance floor and head for the French doors, leading out to the garden.
Shit.
If she followed them and he kissed her, it would be sickening to watch. Should she stay and leave it up to the outside guards? Even as she asked the question, she knew it was too risky. If she were in the same situation with any another client, she wouldn’t hesitate to follow.
As it turned out, it was just as well she did. The sentries, who’d taken up positions at each end of the terrace, barely reacted to Cameron’s presence. Doubtless, they believed the prince would want them to turn a blind eye since he was with a woman. That was the problem with regular security personnel. They often endangered their charges with faulty initiative.
Automatically, Brig scanned the surrounding shrubbery, and sensing nothing, stepped into the shadows a few meters behind Cameron and Pamela, where she unashamedly listened in on their conversation.
Seemingly, Pamela was trying to talk the prince into an off-planet trip, hanging onto his arm as she gazed up into his face. ”…daddy specifically asked if I would invite you up for a few days once the trade talks are finished. He’s keen to get your feedback on the site he’s chosen for his new hotel. The trip would be a wonderful break for both of us. Everyone says the Baylis II resort is fabulous…”
While Brig curled her lip at Pamela’s high-pitched little-girl voice, she felt a telltale flutter of sensation whisper across her skin. Turning her head, she listened intently. Someone was out there, in the shrubbery. In short seconds, she was next to Cameron, who spun around in surprise.
“What’s up?” He caught hold of her arms protectively, glancing about them.
“Get back inside. Someone’s hiding in the garden.” She pulled free of his grasp and tried to push him toward the French doors.
Pamela practically flew back into the ballroom, but Cameron stayed, scanning the area. “How many are there? Can you pinpoint them?”
“No,” she lied. She couldn’t tell him how she knew. She looked toward the guards, who apparently hadn’t heard her warning to Cameron. “Move it!” she shouted. “Protect the prince.” At the same time, she switched on her mini mic. “Hay, I need back up on the terrace ASAP.” She tried again to push Cameron toward the French windows. “Will you
please
go back inside?”
With relief, she saw Hay and his guards rushing toward them from the far end of the terrace. With that, she pulled a tag on the right side of her gown, which tightened the weave to her waist, revealing black panty shorts beneath. Bending to snap her blaster off her leg-holster, she sprinted away, her galvanized huntress leading her in a straight line to where the intruders were hiding. Even if they ran, she was faster. If they fired weapons, she would see the blast as though it were traveling in slow motion, enabling her to dodge it.
As she ran, she was aware that the prince was still outside, shouting to his guards to help her, but she was already out of sight racing to the far side of the lawn toward her target. As she hurtled through the undergrowth, she sensed there were two life forms ahead of her. Since a large tree blocked her view, she ran to the right of it, gathering herself for attack, only to stop dead with a swallowed curse.
Several feet ahead of her, a man was standing with his back against a tree looking down at a woman on her knees in front of him. His fly was unzipped and his pants were halfway down his hips. He was holding the woman’s head while she moved her lips up and down his exposed cock. Lost in the moment the couple were completely unaware of Brig, whose keen hearing picked up the suckling sounds the female was making while the male gave soft grunts of pleasure.
For a moment Brig’s gaze riveted on the couple while her mind conjured a vision of herself performing the same act on Cameron. When she heard running footsteps behind her, she moved quickly to intercept the security team.
“False alarm,” she called out to Hay who was leading the charge. “It’s just a couple enjoying some alone time.”
The security chief looked past Brig to the shrubbery, but the couple couldn’t be seen. Brig figured they were probably still unaware of the commotion they’d triggered.
“Well, you did the right thing,” Hay said, out of breath. “It was better to take action than risk the prince’s life.” As he spoke, he looked down at the blaster in her hand. Evidently, he recognized that she was more than she’d owned up to. She knew he wouldn’t question her on it. Instead, he shouted to the two guards from the terrace who’d bungled their assignment. “You two with me.”
Brig didn’t need Hay to tell her that the men would be looking for new positions in the morning.
Ten minutes later, Brig was back inside, meandering around the ballroom. It was easier to stay on the move while she watched the prince who was doing the rounds once more. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d returned from the garden, and she figured very few of the guests were aware of the happening. Pamela had reappeared a moment ago wearing a fresh coat of glossy red lipstick, and of course, she’d made a beeline for Cameron.
Brig was pleased to see the crowd was beginning to thin out. She knew tomorrow was a free day for the delegates and the official talks would begin the day after.
While it
would be premature and irresponsible to dismiss the threat
against the prince, she wondered for the first time if it might turn out to be nothing special.
Regardless, she would do what she normally did when she guarded male clients, make up a bed on the floor outside of Cameron’s suite. It wouldn’t be a hardship, since she didn’t need much sleep to keep her functional and, of course, her huntress never slept. What would be difficult was trying not to picture the prince getting ready for bed. However, before that, once the guests had departed, and her charge was back in his apartments with guards stationed outside, it couldn’t hurt to make a quick foray outside the palace grounds. She would reconnoiter the terrain in a fifteen-mile radius, and see if she could pick up anything that smelled like trouble.
Chapter Six
Two hours later, Duncan was back in his quarters, wearing a white sleeveless t-shirt and loose black pants. He was at his desk reading the new mineral rights agreement his lawyer had recently drawn up. Picking up a stylus, he signed the contract, but left the rest of the opened datacubes for later attention.
Pushing away from the desk, he rose and walked to the bar to pour two fingers of Scotch into a crystal glass. Crossing to lounge in his favorite easy chair, he let the first sip of Scotch rest on his tongue for a moment before he swallowed.
Shifting back in the chair, he stared up at the ceiling and released a heavy sigh as his mind return to the subject that kept demanding his attention, Brigitta Monroe…Brig. He smiled as he pictured her. By turns, she aroused, fascinated and annoyed him. It seemed impossible that he could want her so badly when she could resist him so easily. Perhaps he
should
have told her about Pamela.
The thought made him frown. He really had to do something about that situation before it got out of hand. An inner voice told him it was already out of hand, but he’d chosen to ignore it. He sighed and took another mouthful of Scotch. The problem was they’d known each since childhood, and Pamela had gotten into the habit of accompanying him to official functions because she knew the ropes, and, truthfully, it was convenient for him. He hadn’t intended to bed her, but she’d made advances and he’d succumbed. Then again, he had never made her any promises, and he had never stopped seeing other women. While Pamela was beautiful and amusing, her clingy ways had put him off some time ago, but he’d left well enough alone hoping she would get tired of waiting and set her sights on someone else. Now, it seemed he’d be forced to set things straight between them, and he did not relish that prospect at all. The problem was every woman he met seemed to be full of female wiles, trying to lure him to a commitment…except for Brig.
He paused to picture her again, how she’d looked in that tight black dress, when he’d wanted nothing more than to push her to floor and push himself inside her creamy warmth.
When his dick reacted to the thought, he grimaced, shifted and adjusted himself. Whatever Monroe did to him physically, it wasn’t solely her body that intrigued him or even her intelligence—though there was nothing he admired more than acumen—no, Brig Monroe had that indefinable quality called presence. Tonight while he’d been making the political rounds, talking the talk, he’d found pleasure simply knowing that she was in the same room.
* * * *
An hour later, dressed in a black bodysuit, Brig grasped a low hanging branch to climb back up a tall tree adjacent to her bedroom window. Since her highly developed senses hadn’t pick up any warning signals on her countryside explorations, it seemed more and more likely that Cameron’s advisors had simply overreacted to one of the standard threats that plagued the rich and famous. Balancing on a branch, she waited for the two guards patrolling the grounds below her to pass before she sprung forward, landing lightly on the black-tiled roof, then walking a few feet before she bent to grip the guttering and swing her body down through an open window.
She smelled him before her feet touched the soft carpet.
She didn’t switch on the lights. She didn’t need them. She could see him clearly, sitting in a high-backed chair with a crystal glass in his hand and glittering intent in his eyes.
He saluted her with the glass. “Without a doubt, Monroe, you’re the most fascinating woman I’ve encountered.”
She pushed stray stands of hair from her face. “Why, because I use a window instead of a door?”
He chuckled, a low rich sound. “Where have you been?”
“Why are you here?” She countered.
A beat passed. She knew he could see her face in the moonlight. “You know why. To deal with what’s between us.”
She stared into his steady gaze and shook her head. “I made it very clear. There is nothing between us. If you need a woman tonight, find someone else. I’m sure there are countless females who would love to be with you…like Pamela.”
His gaze intensified. “Whatever you might have been told, I am
not
engaged to Pamela. If that’s the problem, you don’t need to feel guilty.”
Uh-huh.
And what horny man can be trusted to tell the truth
. “That changes nothing. I’m not sleeping with you. So please leave.”
She watched him set his glass down on the side table and stand before he moved with unexpected swiftness to grip her upper arms and push her back against the wall, trapping her with his hard frame. She didn’t struggle. She could take him down if she had to.
“Whether you admit it or not,” he whispered against her hair. “You loved what we did in the gym.”
“All right, so I’m human. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again. Let go.”
“Are you sure?”
His thighs pressed against hers, his erection prodding her belly. He moved slowly in a tantalizing rhythm, causing a violent pulse between her legs. She controlled her voice, trying to instill some logic into the situation. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“I’m not drunk, damn it. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.”
“Fine, why don’t you go back to your quarters and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”