"Namely you?" Oh no, that was not going to work. No way, no how. "You'll have to tell Mr. Wyatt I've refused your charming company. You can sit outside with your buddy."
"That scared you can't resist me?" His brow arched, and there was an arrogant confidence to the curl of his lips.
"Excuse me?" He couldn't mean what she thought he did.
"You heard me," he said. "Are you that afraid you can't handle your own response to me, that you'd put your life in danger?"
Now that was a dare. She hated dares. A dare had landed her there to begin with.
"I would have no problems resisting you, Mr. Warrant," she snapped, her voice cold despite the heat traveling through her body. "This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with privacy. I like living alone."
He crossed his arms over his chest, his broad, powerful chest, and stared down at her with a frown.
"We aren't willing to risk your life for the sake of your privacy," he informed her. "You can accept the conditions or we'll be forced to call Vanderale Industries and inform them of the danger and your lack of cooperation. We were assured you would cooperate with the protective measures we set in place."
Dammit. She was going to kill her boss. If Sanctuary complained, it wouldn't just go through her own department, it would also hit the desk of the president and owner of Vanderale. And no one, but no one messed with him over his favorite charity. Except her boss. Dane Vanderale might be the son and potential heir, but he was still answerable to his father, just as she was. And he had no idea she was here. She was trapped and she knew it.
"Don't you have a female enforcer you can assign to the house?" She fought back her irritation. "Someone who at least has a sense of humor?"
"I have a sense of humor." He shrugged again. "For example, I find it very amusing that you're afraid to be alone with me."
"Afraid?" She smirked. "You have an overrated opinion of your appeal, Mr. Warrant. I just don't want the aggravation of your hard-on bouncing around my house and invading my privacy. If I wanted that, I would have brought a man with me."
Yeah, right. She hadn't had sex in years and wasn't likely to anytime soon. For some reason, she hadn't excelled in sexual relationships as easily as she excelled in her job.
She got along with her vibrator much easier than she got along with men.
"Regardless of my opinion or your wants, I've been assigned to the house. We don't have enough enforcers to go around as it is. You're stuck with me."
Oh great. She stared at him, pursing her lips in displeasure as she met his gaze. His hot gaze. He watched her like the four-legged lions that patrolled the estate watched dinner being led in. It was nerve-wracking.
"This is not going to work," she bit out. "This is Friday. I don't even come in for the next two days."
He stared back at her silently, as though she hadn't even spoken. God, she hated it when he did that.
"I need to talk to Jonas," she insisted. "Now."
"Not possible. He's preparing to head back to Washington tonight for meetings this weekend, and he's currently heading into conference with the Ruling Cabinet. You'll have to wait until Monday."
She snapped her teeth together. She wanted to stomp her foot and curse, but hated to give him a reason to be any more amused at her discomfort than he was now. He seemed to delight in throwing her off balance.
"This is not going to work." She jerked her purse from the corner of the desk. "Not in any way."
He straightened as she neared the door, all animal grace and sexual confidence. He was dressed in the black enforcer mission outfit, a mini-Uzi strapped to his side, a knife sheathed at one of his thighs and a holstered handgun at the other. He was too tall, too broad, much too sexy and way too dangerous.
"It's going to work fine. You'll be perfectly safe," he assured her as he opened the office door and allowed her to pass.
He made her brush against his body, her shoulder sliding along his chest, the heat of him surrounding her as she moved past him. God, she loved it when he did that. Loved the sense of strength and protective power she could feel surrounding her. That didn't mean she liked the thought of dealing with it all weekend. She used the time away from him for distance, to push back the attraction and the growing need. How the hell was she supposed to do that with him in her face twenty-four-seven?
"This is so not going to work," she muttered again as she made her way down the sterile hallways of the underground offices.
"You worry too much." He followed her too closely.
"You're not the one stuck with an overgrown male all weekend," she snorted. "I like my privacy, Mr. Warrant."
"You'll survive, Ms. Rodriquez."
Maybe.