Leah Braemel - Personal Protection

“Mr. Watson?” Rosie said, touching his arm. “Are you okay?”

An electric shock jumped from her fingers and crawled under his skin in a tingle that caused his breath to hitch. He’d noticed that she was a toucher, seen her patting people’s arms or hands to calm them or support them, but she’d never touched him before. His cock hijacked his thinking processes and started him imagining her tiny hands closing about Sam Junior, milking…

Shit on a stick! She’s your employee, not a member of the Rouge.

“Yeah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled as he forced his mind back onto the scene in the hall. “Look, Kris, I didn’t mean to imply you’re not a good CPO. Chad wouldn’t have assigned you to the team if he didn’t have confidence in you.”

Color crept up Kris’s neck. “Thank you, sir.”

“Sam.”

“Sam,” Kris repeated, his smile breaking out.

Feeling that at least one corner of the world was back on its axis, Sam headed toward the end of the hall and his sanctuary.

Rosie stopped him as he pulled his keys from his jacket pocket. “Let me get that for you.”

His teeth threatening to splinter when his jaw locked down, Sam stepped back and let her unlock the door with her own key. She drew her gun and entered his apartment. Chad had reported they’d monitored the cleaning service doing their thing that afternoon, so they knew the apartment was clear. Though he couldn’t fault her vigilance, it was what she’d signed on for when Hauberk hired her, but damned if it didn’t shrivel his balls that she was willing to take a bullet meant for him.

*

The office had emptied as he leaned back in his chair, running one hand through his hair. Sam had finally yielded to pressure and accepted the detail.

His sense of accomplishment dimmed as he thought of the obstacles still in their path. When the truth came out, would he find himself out of another job? Too late to worry about it; the wheels were already rolling down the hill.

Releasing a long slow exhale, he pulled out his Berry and scrolled through the menu. When he reached the text messaging option, he entered his co-conspirators’ addresses, typed “Operation Payback Begun” and hit send.

Rosie checked the apartment and called the all clear before they let Sam enter. They’d been monitoring the hallway since they’d arrived that afternoon and knew exactly who was home and who wasn’t but she wasn’t going to take any chances. They’d coordinated with the Hauberk Security guards manning the front desk and had descriptions of all the regular tenants. Plus, while Kris and Andy were installing the extra hallway cameras, they’d discovered a high-pitched yapping down at 1206started anytime someone opened a door, loud enough that they would have heard it even if someone hadn’t been monitoring the cameras. The sensors on the terrace doors showed no breech, so they would-should-know if someone had scaled the wall or climbed in from another apartment. But even so, it was her job to make sure the perimeter hadn’t been breeched and no one was laying in wait inside the apartment. She’d be damned if she’d slack off when her boss was watching.

Once she’d given the all-clear, Sam walked into the living room and shrugged off his jacket. He tossed it over the back of one of the leather couches. She tried to inhale a lungful of air filled with his scent without him noticing. God, just being in the same room had her wanting to rip her clothes off and jump him.

When he realized she’d shut the door with her still inside, he frowned. “You don’t have to stay with me. I don’t need a babysitter, Ms. Ramos.”

“Until we discover who’s making the threats, I want someone with you twenty-four/seven. Besides, Chad gave me orders to stick to you like glue.”

A flash of his eyes told her he wished he could countermand his second’s order, but his clamped jaw told her he’d swallowed his objection. God keep her from men who thought they were bulletproof.

He headed toward the kitchen she’d scoped out earlier. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the granite counters, the cherry wood cabinets and the gleaming stainless steel appliances.

“You want a beer?” He opened the fridge and stared. “What the…? You didn’t have to shop for me.”

“Aside from a six-pack of Heineken, the fridge only contained a hunk of moldy cheddar and a half dozen boxes of take-out Chinese that were about to sprout legs and walk out on their own. I figured if we wanted to eat, I’d better order some groceries.” Not to mention she’d thrown anything out that had been opened in case the prowler had tampered with them. The right poison could kill him as efficiently as any bullet.

He poked through the Sub Zero. “Chicken, cold cuts…hey, you bought pecan pie. How’d you know that was my favorite?”

She shrugged, wondering at the warm and fuzzy feeling creeping through her. “Lucky guess.”

“Thank you.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The fleeting touch zapped the warm and fuzzies to scorching flames.

There was a look on his face she couldn’t quite fathom. A hungriness-not for the food she’d put in his refrigerator, but for her. It left her both excited and unnerved.

“F-for someone who has a kitchen as big as most people’s apartments, and appliances my mother could only dream of, you sure don’t look like you make use of it.” Ay bendito, he’d actually made her stutter.

“It’s sort of wasted on me. Unless I have someone to cook for that is. I make a mean Chicken Creole for two.” He removed a Heineken and cracked it open. “So how come you’re the one babysittin’ me tonight, and not Walters or Campbell?”

He lifted the beer and sipped then lowered the bottle and stared at her, frowning. “Tell me you didn’t agree to play a game of poker to determine who got stuck with me.”

“Hardly-Andy cheats.”

Sam chuckled. “He sure does-I lost almost two thousand to him before I twigged to his game. That boy’s slicker than owl sh-droppings.”

“I was lucky. When I first joined Hauberk up in New York, Rick Sparks taught me how to spot someone cheating. So I caught Andy dealing from the bottom on the second hand we played. I’ve never trusted him with a deck of cards since.”

“Yeah, Rick’s pretty slick too.” He placed the beer bottle on the counter, turned it in precise quarter turns. “But you never did tell me how you ended up with the short straw tonight?”

“We figured it might raise some eyebrows if people found him sharing the apartment with you. Easier to explain a woman coming and going in your apartment than a man.”

At least that’s what she thought Andy had said, but he’d managed to twist and turn the conversation around in such a convoluted path, she wasn’t entirely sure what his point had been. She’d given in because she knew Kris was still concerned about his joke about her checking the mail and wouldn’t want to face Sam just yet. From the way her panties were starting to soak she already knew that she’d made a mistake in agreeing to stay in the same apartment with him. She’d go to sleep smelling the cologne that subtly permeated the sheets knowing the only thing separating her from him in that custom made bed of his was two thin sheets of drywall and a couple of metal two by fours. That and her willpower. Which was threatening to take up sleepwalking.

She realized he was talking and forced herself to focus. “-day and age, I don’t think many people blink at two guys sharing an apartment.” He lifted the beer then paused and frowned. “You sure you don’t want a beer?”

Rosie leaned her hip against the counter and decided to deliberately put some space between them, mentally if not physically. “You know, earlier today Kris wondered if maybe you were trying out some new form of employee evaluation. Is he right? Because frankly, if this is all your idea of a test, I find your methods insulting.”