The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,65

eight-thirty meeting, so I ignored the pressure of my unwanted hard-on and found some protein powder.

Nicholas came in the back door, dressed in a pink hibiscus shirt, his hair damp, his beard neatly trimmed.

“Morning,” he said with a friendly smile.

“Morning.”

I liked Nicholas. Usually I didn’t trust people who smiled a lot, but he just seemed like a contented dude. Maybe it had something to do with being happily married. He and Inda were an odd-looking couple—she was athletic and fit, and he had a bit of a dad bod—but they were obviously crazy about each other.

I pulled the blender from under the cabinet and opened the protein powder.

“I’d be careful with that,” Nicholas said.

“With the blender?”

“Cameron modified it. I’m pretty sure that thing could puree a chunk of marble. Stick to the lowest setting.”

I dumped in a cup of ice and a scoop of protein. “What do you mean she modified it?”

He shrugged and started getting pans out of a cupboard. “She has a workshop off the garage. She takes stuff apart and when she puts it back together, you need goggles and a hard hat to handle it safely.”

A workshop? I’d noticed a room with tools and a large worktable, but she’d never mentioned anything about it.

“Thanks for the warning.”

I added a few more things, secured the lid, and pressed blend.

It sounded like a jet engine gearing up for takeoff. I held the blender down, worried it was going to vibrate off the counter. A few seconds later, I turned it off.

“Told you,” Nicholas said.

I glanced around the kitchen. “What else has she modified?”

“The garbage disposal could probably chew your arm off, the electric mixer sounds terrifying but it whips heavy cream in about half the time, and I’d avoid the toaster altogether. We talked her out of taking apart the microwave, and I covertly got rid of the popcorn maker. Everything else is more or less normal.”

“Good to know.”

Cameron came downstairs with wet hair, dressed in a silky robe, her long legs on display. God, she was gorgeous. I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and haul her upstairs so I could devour every inch of her.

“Morning, Nicholas. Meal prep day?”

“Indeed it is,” he said, unloading an armful of produce onto the counter.

She sidled up to me and lifted onto her tiptoes to brush a soft kiss across my lips. “Shower’s all yours.”

I kissed her back. “Thanks.”

She glanced around, then leaned closer to Nicholas. “Will I find anything naughty hidden in the back of the fridge when you’re done?”

“You know Inda wants me to stick to the meal plan she made for you.”

“I know, but if you accidentally make a key lime tart or two, I promise I won’t tell.”

Nicholas grinned. “Don’t get me in trouble.”

“It’s our little secret.”

She winked at me. I smiled back, then took my protein shake upstairs to get ready for work.

Cameron’s schedule was packed, as usual, which kept me busy. I shadowed her as she went about her day and checked the security feeds from her house regularly. We were keeping things strictly professional in her office. Nothing but occasional lingering eye contact and a stolen kiss or two. The people in Cameron’s personal life knew about us, and she’d told Brandy. But as far as everyone else at Spencer knew, I was still just Cameron’s personal security.

She’d been in her office for about an hour when the back of my neck tingled. I shifted my shoulders to rub my collar against it. That was odd. It was rare that something riled up my instincts here in Cameron’s office. I still got the subtle sense that she was in danger, but that was a feeling I’d relegated to the background. It wasn’t exactly useful at this point—we already knew.

But her office was reasonably safe. I stayed with her during the day because she often had meetings and appointments off-site, and to send the message that she was well-protected.

My top four exit strategies ran through my mind like a reflex.

Noelle Olson walked into the office, dressed in a cream blouse with a wide collar and navy slacks. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, making her high-cheekboned face look particularly severe. I’d been in meetings with most of Spencer’s executive team, and where the rest of them were cordial, Noelle pretended like I didn’t exist.

She paused near my desk and glanced toward Cameron’s half-open door. She was walking slowly around her office on a phone call. Brandy shifted to the