More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,18

respect the distance she’s putting between us. I shouldn’t follow her. But I can’t stop myself from lunging into her personal space. She edges away again, until the counter at her back stops her.

She has nowhere else to go.

A smile that isn’t comforting curls across my face. “All you have to do is tell me to back off.”

“Why should I have to? You should give me space, regardless.”

Her trembling voice does something to me. Not because she’s afraid. I know she’s not. Because that, along with her darting gaze, tells me my nearness affects her.

“I should, but I still want to hear you say it—and mean it.”

Amanda presses her lips together, refusing to say anything at all.

Thrill spikes through my blood. I shuffle closer until our chests brush. Until I see her pulse beating frantically at her neck. Until I feel her choppy breaths on my lips.

I lean forward and brace my hands on the counter on either side of her hips. “Nothing to say?”

“I’d rather not lie.”

Fuck, her pouty pink lips are less than a whisper away, and it takes all my self-control not to fasten my mouth over hers and eat her whole. “It’s a good thing you didn’t. What the hell are we going to do stuck together for a whole week?”

“Be adults and ignore it.” Amanda nudges me aside and tries to walk away.

I should let her. But the devil in me won’t let it go.

I grab her arm and yank her back to me. “Is that really what you want?”

Chapter Four

“My last relationship taught me to stop thinking about what I want and start thinking about what I need.”

She means Barclay. What did that bastard do to her?

Yeah, Amanda has only asked me to be her bodyguard, and I should leave it there. I shouldn’t care about her broken heart or the way she’s barricaded it against me. But I do. And I have a feeling that I need to understand exactly what happened between her and her lover thirty-three years her senior to understand her. Unfortunately, there’s no way in hell she’s ready to tell me now.

No matter how much it chafes, I need to be patient.

I watch her go as she disappears into the master bedroom, shutting the door between us. The pipes and pelting water tell me she’s taking a shower. Soon afterward, I hear the whir of mechanical blinds descending. Then silence. I use the opportunity to locate an inflatable mattress in the hall closet and situate it in the office beside the master. I make sure my firearms are both ready and up high where Oliver can never reach them. I text Stephen Lund my number so he can talk to me about his sister, then sit down to start an online grocery order.

Not three minutes later, my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, but it has a 212 prefix. New York. I’d bet a hundred bucks that Stephen didn’t like what he heard from me earlier, so he ran his displeasure up the family flagpole. Now Lund Senior is probably ringing to ream me out.

“Tanner Kirk.”

“Douglas Lund here.”

The guy sounds commanding. Rich and powerful. Like someone I shouldn’t fuck with.

How on earth did he let a dirty old man, even a supposed friend like Barclay Reed, debauch his daughter?

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Now comes the part where he growls and warns me away from Amanda. Probably threatens me, too.

“Is Amanda nearby?”

“Sleeping. After the intruder last night, she didn’t get much rest.” I hope like hell he doesn’t ask me to wake her.

“Good. I want to talk to you.”

That isn’t an encouraging sign, either. “I’m listening. I know you must be worried about your daughter—”

“Very much.”

“I know your son and I had a…contentious conversation this morning—”

“Stephen doesn’t always focus on what’s important. Do I wish I knew you and your reputation better? Of course. Am I more worried about my daughter’s virtue than her safety? No.”

“I assure you she’s in good hands. I’ve been a bodyguard for more than one Colorado State senator and even the former governor for a spell.” I don’t mention that was nearly fifteen years ago. “I’m damn good with a gun, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Amanda and Oliver stay safe.”

“How much has she offered to pay you?”

“Five thousand for this week. That’s as long as I can stay. She’ll be looking to replace me after that.”

“I see,” he drawls, and behind those words I sense he’s gearing