How was he going to convince her to help him, to even trust him, if he couldn’t control his desire to explore the attraction so obviously between them?
He almost laughed. Not a humor laugh. What the hell was this feeling he had burning him inside. Demanding he take her. That he find a way to bury himself deep inside her body? He’d never wanted with such potency. Never felt this kind of power urgency.
To take. To seize. To control.
And though he had no doubt she wanted him as he wanted her, he didn’t want to make her feel he had manipulated her. When she found out his agenda in seeking her out, she would think he had used sex to get her to do his bidding.
But it wasn’t that way.
He burned for her. Didn’t want to. He simply did.
It was as real as anything he had ever known in this lifetime.
A slow smile turned up the corners of her lush mouth. “I’m glad,” she said softly and a bit shyly.
“Can I take you to dinner?” He needed a good time to ask her help. That meant, despite the risk of more intimate moments, he needed some quality time with her.
She shook her head. “You already bought me one meal today.”
He smiled, trying not to think about what happened after lunch. About touching her. About wanting her. “I hardly think the Chinese buffet put a dent in my wallet.”
“Still,” she insisted.
He reached for her hand instinctively. Before his mind could reason with his desire to touch her. Even his words seemed a creation of his desire, not his good sense. “I want to spend time with you tonight.”
She studied him a moment as his thumb drew soft strokes across her palm. He couldn’t seem to resist touching her. Then she said, “My neighbor brought me over a pot of spaghetti. If you want, I could heat it up. She’s a great cook.”
Alone in her house. Bad idea for so many reasons. He didn’t let himself think about it. Instead, he asked, “Why would your neighbor bring you food?”
“I live in my parents’ old home. She was my mom’s best friend. She worries because I work late.” She paused. “Too much, according to her,” she added, grinning. Then, she reached out and touched his chest with her fingertips. “Will you join me?”
The touch of her fingers, so light, yet so heavy in sensation, rocked his reasoning skills to zero-level. “Sounds good,” he said, knowing he was wrong to do so.
Holly was a woman to treasure, to make long-term commitments with and to marry. He could fuck her. Nothing more. No way could he offer her what she deserved. Those things were gone for him. Had there ever been a woman who could have made him want them, he knew in his core, Holly Heart would have been the one.
He dropped her hand and took a step backwards. “Can you leave now?”
She frowned at his sudden withdrawal as if she sensed it was more than a physical distance he had just drawn. “Yes. I only live a few blocks away so normally I walk home.”
His eyes widened. “Haven’t you heard about the abductions going on?”
She shrugged. “I have but—”
“No buts,” he insisted. “Walking home is crazy.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she said succinctly.
He fixed her in a hard stare. “Yes,” he said. “It is.”
She tilted her head to the side and her eyes darkened with a building anger.
He laughed.
She frowned. “What are you laughing at?”
“You,” he said, giving in to the crazy feelings she evoked. He stepped forward and slid his hands under her hair as he maneuvered her backside against the desk. “You don’t like having anyone tell you how or what you can or can’t do.”
“And you do?” she challenged, looking up at him, her hands resting on the sides of his waist, not at all fazed by his size or how he pressed against soft curves.
Or how hard his dick was as it brushed her stomach. She was fearless and smart and too damn amazing to resist. His dick was right. His mind, wrong. At least at that moment. “Very few people get away with telling me what to do, that’s true,” he admitted, somewhat absently as he lowered his head, hungry to taste her.
Just once more, he told himself.
Just once.
He would make it be enough. Perhaps then he could be more focused. Her lashes fluttered shut as she willingly tilted her mouth up to receive the kiss. God, she was beautiful. He brushed his lips across hers in a soft caress.
“Mmm,” she purred and he eagerly repeated the action. Her sweet little response only heightened his need. Called to his body and even, it felt, in that moment, his soul. He didn’t understand the feeling. It just was.
His hands moved to her lower back, molding her against him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Instantly, she slid her arms around him, pressing her body even closer to his, her lush breasts molding his chest. She let out a soft, seductive little sigh.
It affected him like gasoline on a fire. Instantly, he was burning hot.
His tongue delved deeper…
A noise. Mason froze. Holly didn’t. Her tongue reaching for his. Someone cleared their throat. No doubt, Roger.
With great irritation, Mason pulled back from Holly but he couldn’t bring himself to release her completely. He began to loosen his grip to a more casual stance but Holly still clung, staring up at him with something in her eyes resembling shock. As if, he decided, she couldn’t believe her own reaction to their intimacy.
“Holly,” he whispered. “We have company.”
She shook her head as if shaking off a thick haze and he watched reality slowly seep back into her eyes. She looked at Roger.
“Something wrong?” she asked him, sliding away from Mason, suddenly appearing a bit self-conscious. She leaned one hand on the desktop, making an obvious effort to seem at ease.
Mason refused to move away from her for reasons he himself didn’t completely understand. He stepped behind her, his body close to hers, his hand on one of her shoulders, towering above her head to look at Roger.
“Usually people do things like that in private,” Roger said snidely.
Stiffening, she glared. “Like that?”
“We were just leaving.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze.
“What is your problem, Roger? You never act so—”
“Because you never act like you are,” he retorted before she finished her sentence.
She stared at him, baffled. Mason gave her another gentle squeeze. “Let’s get going.”
Holly shook her head in frustration and looked up at Mason. “Yeah, okay.” She reached to retrieve her purse from her desk drawer. “Will you lock up, Roger?” she asked, giving him a cautious look.
“Yeah, sure,” he said unpleasantly but turned and walked toward the lab before she could say anything else.
Holly looked at Mason. “I really don’t understand him.”
“Men do strange things when they feel territorial,” Mason told her, thinking about himself, not Roger.
Where Holly was concerned, he indeed felt territorial, possessive, lustful and completely torn by too many things to count.
Inwardly, he sighed. One thing was for certain; He wasn’t about to let the wrong people get their hands on her. As far as he was concerned, she was under his direct protection.
And even Roger could take that to the bank.
Chapter Three
Mason had helped Holly into the passenger side of his Ford Explorer like a perfect gentleman. It appealed in a big way. The man could easily set her on fire, yet he also made her feel like a lady. The combination did funny things to her.
Tugged at her heartstrings.
As he maneuvered into her driveway, she glanced at his profile, staggered by the power of his presence. No words spoken. His silence still held power.
Something in him reached out to her. Perhaps it was his sense of loneliness. Something she, too, had felt all too often. Deep in his eyes lurked dark shadows of things she didn’t understand.
/> But wanted to.
When he had insisted Roger had feelings for her, she had sworn he was wrong. Yet now, thinking about it, she wondered if he was right. There was something about Mason. He knew things. How, she didn’t know. But he did.
She wanted, no, needed, to know who Mason Alexander was as a man.
Looking at her house, Holly noted the abnormal darkness. “My porch light must have burned out.”
Mason turned off the motor. “Good thing you didn’t walk home alone.”
She flicked him a look. “Don’t you dare do the I-told-you-so thing or I may have to hit you.”
He gave her a teasing look as he pushed open his door. “But I did tell you so.”
He was out of the truck before she could respond. Holly laughed and pushed open her door, not bothering to wait on his assistance.
Mason was standing in front of her the minute her feet hit the pavement. “You’re supposed to wait for my help.” There was reprimand in his voice.
She just looked at him. Big, powerful and, oh, so male. He simply took her breath away. How had she lived all these years and never experienced anything like this…so deeply moving?
The answer was clear—she had only just met Mason.
He leaned on the doorframe of the truck, successfully caging her. Not that she was an unwilling captive. “You know,” he said softly, his voice hinting at desire, his eyes flaring with smoldering heat. “When you look at me like that, all hot and wanting, it makes it real damn hard for me to do the right thing.” He paused a second. “To be a gentleman.”
She had always spoken her mind. Her parents had taught her that silence fed confusion. Something no scientist found acceptable. It was the only way she knew to express herself.
Frankly.
“You are a gentleman. I was just thinking that a few minutes ago. But sometimes being a gentlemen can be overrated.”
His eyes flared with something resembling torment. And so much more. Heat. Sexual in nature. No question, he wanted her. And just when she thought he might accept what was between them, he abruptly stepped backwards.
He glanced at the house, seeming to dismiss what had just passed between them. As if he thought something was wrong.
The thought made her stiffen. “What is it?”
He literally thrummed with alertness. Without looking at her, he held out his hand, palm open. “Give me your keys and then get in the truck and lock it.”
Suddenly her heartfelt like it might jump out of her chest. “Mason, you’re scaring me.”
He turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers. His hand slid under her hair, settling on her neck, warm and comforting, as he gently caressed with his thumb. “I’m just being cautious. Everything is fine, I’m sure.”
“You think someone is here.” Intuitively she knew he did.
His eyes narrowed on hers a long moment as if he was trying to decide what he could get away with saying. Or not saying. “Maybe,” he said cautiously. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Please get in and lock the doors.”
Something in his voice made her comply.
She handed him her keys before climbing into the truck. The instant she was inside the cab, he refocused on the house, yet he didn’t move until she clicked the locks into place. It was strange how he moved the second she hit the button.
As if he knew when she did it without seeing her action.
* * * * *
Someone was watching them.
Mason didn’t want to scare Holly. But he was quite certain they had company. Besides, he didn’t want to explain who and what he was just yet. Not tonight.
Stepping onto the porch, he quickly surmised the light had been purposely broken. He eased around the side of the house, tuning in to his unique sensory abilities. He picked up Walsh’s scent. Clearly he had traveled the backside of the house. And there was another scent…Arion soldier. One of his enemies. No doubt following Walsh. The bastard was drawing attention to Holly that she couldn’t afford.
Mason inwardly cursed. This was a cold, hard reminder that he was running out of time. He needed to convince Holly to help him before the Arions targeted her. If it wasn’t already too late. They’d kill her rather than let her join the war against them.
Squatting by the wall, fading into the darkness, using it as a cloak, he scanned the perimeter. A tiny movement, not perceivable by normal human eyes, caught and held his gaze. And then it was gone.
No fight, no attack, just gone.
The intruder had one intent—surveillance. No Arion shied away from a fight. They were too aggressive by nature.
Cautiously, Mason moved around the house. A window was broken. Someone had been inside. He unlocked the back door and flipped on the inside light, already certain whoever had been there was gone. He’d sense a presence. A quick walk-through of the house confirmed nothing appeared disturbed. At least, nothing obvious.
Walsh had been the intruder. Not the Arions.
He’d come for Holly’s research.
Sighing, Mason headed toward the front door. He was in a damn difficult position. His hope of easing Holly into the reality of who and what he was, was quickly dissolving.
He would have to move much more quickly than planned.
* * * * *
By the time Mason walked through her front door, Holly was about to lose her mind. She unlocked the truck door and shoved open the door. In a split second, she was running toward him. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms.
“You had a break-in,” he said, leaning back to look down at her and she realized how much safer she felt with him touching her. He continued, “It appears the intruder was scared off before anything was taken. You’ll have to inspect things yourself to be certain.”
She blinked, stunned. “What?”
He nodded, calmly stating the facts. “They broke out your front light and there is a broken window in the back.”
She swallowed hard. Her little neighborhood had always felt safe. What if she had come home alone? Had this person been there waiting on her? Why else would the porch light be knocked out? She could have been killed. Had Mason not been here, who knew what might have happened?
“But I was here,” Mason said softly.
She looked at him with shock in her eyes. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“It was written all over your face.” He traced her jaw with his finger. “You have a very expressive face, you know.”
She had never thought she needed anyone, for anything. Now Mason was here, a force so comforting, she didn’t want to let him leave. It felt good to have someone, to have him, with her. And as crazy as she knew it was, especially in such a short time, she felt linked to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for being here.”
“Perhaps,” he said, with the tiniest hint of emotion in his voice, “I was meant to be.”
“I’ve always loved this little house.” There was a slight quiver in her voice despite her desire to seem strong. “This is the first time I haven’t felt safe here.”
He ran his hand down her hair in a comforting caress. “I’m sorry.” His voice was laced with sincerity.
She sighed heavily and looked toward the front door. “I should call the police.”
This was her home, the place where her parents had lived and raised her, one of the few things she had that kept her connected to them. She eyed the red brick, the large concrete porch and the big white swing to the left, beside the door.
She didn’t want to be afraid here. This was her safety zone, her place to process life’s ups and downs.
“You can call if you like,” he offered, “but they won’t find anything. If it will make you feel better though…” he let his voice trail off, clearly letting her know he would support whatever she decided.
“I want to call.” Determination laced her words. “I’m here alone a lot. If the police say this isn’t anything to worry about, it will make me feel better.”
> He nodded. “Then call,” he said, motioning toward the house. “While they are here, I’ll go get a new glass to fix your window.”
Holly looped her arm around his elbow. “You fix windows, too?” she teased, though it came out a bit lame. Somehow, she managed a small smile.
He covered her hand with his. “Ask and you shall receive,” he said, looking down at her with hard-to-read, dark eyes.