The Protector

redeem him. Something to make him less ugly to me right now. But I know I’m searching in vain.

“I was young.” She says it wistfully, but for the first time I see true regret lingering beyond the mask she wears. Not regret for marrying such an arsehole, but regret because her life has passed her by and, besides me, all she has to show for it is a posh apartment in Kensington. She’s hasn’t found another love. She’s as bitter and twisted as the rest of the divorcees she keeps company with. “Plus TJ was just a boy, his mother gone after your father forced the poor girl back to Russia. Someone needed to instill some humanity into him before he turned into his father completely.”

I smile at my mum’s rare display of a maternal side.

“And look what thanks I got.” She laughs. “Disposed of for that child-wife of his! And the moment I remarry, your father will cease all spousal payments. I barely survive on the peanuts he throws my way now.”

I could laugh. Peanuts in Mum’s eyes would probably keep a small village alive for a lifetime. “You don’t have to remarry,” I point out. “Just date.”

“There’s not a man on earth who could survive me.” She chucks my chin and stands, brushing her skirt down. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You’re making the place look untidy.”

I laugh lightly, not in disbelief because of her cheek, but because this is my mum, and despite her being overbearing and a total snob, I love her dearly. “What am I going to do?” I ask, rising to my feet as I set the china cup down.

“Well, before you do anything you’re going to clean yourself up.” She looks at me and tuts her dismay. “No woman can conquer the world if she isn’t looking her best.” Reaching forward, she brushes a stray tendril of my hair away. “I’ll have my driver pop over to your apartment and collect some things for you.”

“No!” I blurt, making her recoil. “Dad might be there. He’ll know I’m here if he sees your driver dropping by.”

“Then what am I supposed to do with you?” She indicates up and down my tatty form. “I can’t leave you looking like this.”

“I don’t know,” I admit, immune to the offense I should be feeling.

She huffs and wanders out to the hallway. “I’ll call Harvey Nic’s and have them pick out some things for you. My driver can pick them up. Use the pink guest room, sweetie pie. There’s a robe on the back of the door.”

She disappears and I let my whole body deflate a little, exhausted after a particularly strong dose of my mother. God, I feel even more drained.

Once I’ve taken a moment to muster the energy, I make my way to the pink guest room, wincing at the chintzy décor as I pass through to the bathroom. And then I’m shielding my eyes when I arrive in the en suite. It’s like King Midas has been let loose. Everywhere I turn, there’s gold glaring at me—the bath, the taps, the shower frame, the toilet seat. This is the spare bathroom. It’s ridiculously ostentatious, and completely my mother.

After showering and wrapping my hair and body in a towel, I wander into the pink room and see a Harvey Nic’s bag waiting on the bed for me. With a little trepidation, I pad over and take a cautious peek inside. My mother ordered these clothes. This could be disastrous. The first thing I spot are some lacy knickers and a matching bra and, pleasantly surprised, I pull them out and smile when I see the brand. I modeled for this range. Mum knows this.

“Perfect,” I say, now not afraid to delve deeper. I get a rush of warmth knowing Mother keeps up with my career, next pulling out an oversized black T-shirt dress, totally me, followed by a pair of cute Dune ballet flats. Collecting it all up, I pivot…

And walk face-first into someone. Everything held in my hands tumbles to my feet, and my lungs balloon from my shocked inhalation, ready to rush out on a frightened scream.





Chapter 23

JAKE



I only just get my hand over her mouth before she lets loose with what I knew would be a scream that would probably stretch from here to Manchester. Her eyes are wide and frightened as I seize her and carry her into the bathroom, squinting as I enter to avoid being blinded by the offensive amount of gold.

I push the door closed with my foot and set her on her feet, being sure to get my face in her field of vision before I release her mouth. It takes her a few seconds to focus, and I see the moment she realizes it’s me. Her whole body softens in my arms, her dull eyes sparking back to life. Oh God, the feel of her, the sight of her. The past few hours have been pure hell.

I gently peel my palm away from her mouth. “I’ll always find you, angel.”

“Oh God!” She launches herself at me, throwing her arms over my shoulders and burying her face in my neck. “I thought you’d left me!” She sounds freaked…and totally amazing.

“Don’t be daft.” I meld into her and hug her with a force that could probably break a bone. “Does your father know you’re here?” I ask.

“No. I ran away. I didn’t know what to do.”

I smile at her instinct. “I had no choice but to leave, Cami.” The thought of her thinking I would just abandon her is crippling.

“Why?” She starts to kiss my neck—quick, constant pecks across my skin.

“Your father’s paid your ex to press charges against me. The police turned up.”

Her mouth stops moving across my skin, and she’s out of my neck a split second later. “What?”

She heard me just fine. Her request for a repeat is simply because she’s shocked. Fuck me, she hasn’t heard anything yet. “You must have seen the police at my apartment.”

“No! I was locked in your room for…ever!”

I shake my head in disbelief, though the extent of Logan’s ruthlessness shouldn’t be a surprise. There’s no way a bunch of cops would ignore the screams of a woman coming from my bedroom, which tells me Logan has more than one corrupt cop in his pocket. Fucker!

I take her cheeks in my hands, bringing my face closer to hers. “He really, really doesn’t want me to have you, angel.” I say it with a light, almost humorous edge, but her jaw still tightens.

“How did you find me?”

“Your phone,” I tell her, seeing her frown. “You switched it on an hour ago. I tracked it via GPS.” I can’t help but smile at her astonishment. It’s simple tracking technology, though I’m seriously considering having her microchipped so I don’t have to go to hell and back again should her phone ever be switched off when she’s out of my sight.

She withdraws and jabs me in the shoulder with surprising force, her face going from astounded to annoyed in a nanosecond. “Then why didn’t you call me and tell me where you were? I’ve been going out of my mind!”

“I didn’t know who was with you,” I grate, unreasonably thinking that she has no idea what it feels like to be going out of your mind. Fuck me, every artery I have is blocked with stress. I feel like I could have a heart attack at any moment. “Your father could have taken your phone. How the hell was I supposed to know?”

“He did take my phone, but I got it back. And he deleted your number so I couldn’t contact you. But even if you didn’t want to risk calling me, you should have contacted me somehow!” she argues.

“How?” I’m truly flummoxed.

“I don’t know! You’re the stealth ninja in this relationship!” Her gorgeous face twists with frustration that’s heavily mixed with relief.

“Sure.” I laugh. “Next time I lose you, I’ll have a satellite signal sent to your lipgloss.”

She gasps her disgust as her arm flies out again, except this time I block her swing with ease, making her stagger forward a little on another disgruntled gasp. She quickly finds her composure, the nostrils of her cute button nose flaring. I keep my lips straight, but there’s nothing I can do to stop my cock lunging behind my fly. How easy it would be to bend her over that gold-plated bath and smash into her from behind. Lord knows, I need to let off some steam.

I see every muscle in her go lax, despite her raging eyes. She’s playing it cool. Her willowy body wrapped tightly in that little towel is one of the most gratifying things I’ve ever seen.

But then the tiniest of movements from her right arm catches my eye and tells me her intention. My hand comes up between our bodies and her wrist lands in my waiting palm. She grunts her annoyance, bringing the other up in quick succession. I catch that one, too, now unable to hold back my victorious smirk. She yanks, incensed, and battles with my hold. And I let her, unmoving, working out the distance to that gold tub.

“Jake!” She flips her body, sending her towel tumbling to the floor. She freezes. I smile.

Then I lock her in my hold and push her toward the tub, placing her hands on the edge. “Hold on, angel.”

“Jake…” Her voice is now pure lust as I bend her over in front of me, my mouth lax as I drink in the expanse of her back, my palm stroking the entire length slowly. Good God, I need to be inside her. I pull my fly open and push my jeans down a little, letting my cock spring free.

Widening my stance to level me up, I take her hips and inch forward, no need to hold myself to guide my cock to her pussy. It knows where it wants to be. I nudge at her opening, teasing a little, wanting her to beg.

“Please, Jake.” She says it softly, desperately. “Please.”

I smile and sink into her, gasping and freezing when she constricts all of her muscles, hauling me in the rest of the way. “Ohhhh, fuck,” I breathe, clenching my eyes shut. “Cami, today I need to take you hard.”

“I don’t care!” She rams back onto me, her arse hitting my lower stomach, prompting my eyes to spring open and watch.

“Fuck!” I dig my fingers into her flesh and retreat, watching with rapt attention as my cock, slick with her arousal, slides from her passage. “Angel, I can’t tell you how fucking good you look.” Her back stretched before me, her head bowed, her arse firm and round, all within my sights. “Fucking amazing.”

She groans, her wet golden hair cascading onto the side of the gold bath, her arms ramrod straight against it. The urge I have to pound into her can’t be contained. My relief at having her back is too great. I let rip, yanking her back onto me hard and fast, needing to possess her, needing to surrender to my body’s demand to demonstrate my need for her, to show her in the best possible way that I’m here and I’m going nowhere.

I throw my head back on a suppressed roar, feeling the blood in my cock begin to bubble. I’m mumbling mindlessly. I’m starting to shake, my knees going weak. I can’t hold back any longer.

“Cami.” I choke her name through my mind-bending pleasure, trying to tell her that I’m tipping the edge.

“Go!” she shouts, ramming back onto my groin with a force that nearly knocks me to my arse.

“Fuck!” I can’t even find the decency through my pleasure to ensure she’s nearly there, too. I let go, tingles penetrating my skin and ripping through me, shaking me to the core.

“I’m coming!” she yelps.

I force a few more strokes, gritting my teeth, the sensitivity almost too much to bear. I know the moment she comes. She slams her fist on the side of the bath, and I tug her back, holding her tightly against me as my cock rolls out its release and my body starts to tremble uncontrollably.

“Ohhhhhh…” Cami breathes, going limp against me, her arms giving against the tub. “Oh, fucking hell, that’s powerful.”

I find some energy from nowhere and pull her up, holding her naked back against me while I fight my way through the furious attack of my climax. My breathing is all over the place, my heart beating for the first time since I fled my apartment. I’m alive again.

She mumbles something, exhausted. I can’t make it out. “What, angel?”

She drags in air, and I lower my face into her neck, getting close to her mouth. “Muuuuu,” she breathes.

I frown, slipping free of her, making sure I keep hold of her body. She feels like she could crumble to the floor. “Cami, I can’t hear you.”

“Mum.”

“Sweetie pie!”

I fire a look toward the door, hearing the shuffle of some shoes across the carpet.

“Camille, sweetie, I’m popping out.”

“Oh, shit!” I yank my trousers up with one hand while holding Cami up in my other, willing her to come back to life. “Cami, for Christ’s sake!” I reach down and grab the towel, pulling it up her body. She doesn’t help. She’s bloody useless.

The door flies open and I’m confronted with her overbearing, preened, perfectly coifed mother. She freezes when she clocks the scene, her manicured hand poised on the gold doorknob.

“Hi.” I cough, arranging Cami’s towel around her useless body. I wish she’d fucking snap out of it!

“Well, hello.” She looks to Cami, eyebrows raised, then to me. I’m just relieved as fuck that I was too desperate to be inside Cami to think about removing any of my clothes.

Cami seems to come round, taking the towel from my grasp and holding it up herself. “Mum, this is Jake,” she blurts without warning, startling me.

I feel like a delinquent. Fucking my girl in her mother’s bathroom? And being caught? I’m fucking mortified.

There’s no escaping the condemnation on Camille’s mother’s face and for the first time in my life, it bothers me. For the first time in my life, I care what someone thinks of me. I really am a pussy. I step forward, all chivalrously, and extend my hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Logan.”

She eyes me with caution. “It’s Ms. Bell.” She raises an indignant nose and I die on the spot. I knew that. I knew she’d reverted back to her maiden name after Logan dumped her for a younger model. What’s gotten into me? I’m all nervous.

“Of course.” I mentally shoot my brains out and smile sincerely. Camille Logan is unearthing all kinds of chivalrous behavior from me. “Pleasure.”

Her hand finally puts me out of my twitchy misery and takes mine. “So you’re the man causing all this trouble?” she asks, a roving eye skating up and down my disheveled frame.

Again, I scoff, but only on the inside. There’s a man causing trouble all right, but it isn’t me. I pull myself together and release her hand, trying to stand tall when I feel like a midget before this woman who is a foot shorter than me. “I’m trying not to.” I take an out, not knowing what other angle to take. She’s one of the good guys. I don’t usually bow to anyone, but I have an overwhelming need to bow to this woman. She’s the epitome of everything I hate in a female, but she’s Cami’s mum. “I realize Cami’s father isn’t so keen—”

She snorts, interrupting me. “You could be Prince Harry and he still wouldn’t approve if he hadn’t set up the date, or wasn’t set to get some financial perk from it.” She looks at her daughter, a little twinkle in her eye. “Why don’t you get dressed, sweetie pie? I’ll take Jake into the lounge. We’ll have tea.”

I look down at Cami and see her frown as she drags her towel close, like she hadn’t realized she was half-naked until her mother pointed it out. “I thought you were going out.”

Ms. Bell purses her lips and flicks an eye to me. “It can wait.” She spins on her polished shoes and sashays out, and the moment her back disappears I stagger toward the wall, feeling a pressure like no other. The irony of it doesn’t escape me. Approval isn’t something I care for. Cami’s mother might have changed that.

“You okay?” Cami asks, her forehead creasing.

I need to pull myself together. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Pushing myself away from the wall, I approach her and slip my arm around her neck, pulling her into me. Then I go in for the kill. She needs to know how I feel. All her fears, the thoughts that I’d deserted her, hurt like fucking hell. I just have to say it. With spoken words. Loud and clear.

Yet when I open my mouth, nothing materializes. The words are there. They’re everywhere. “I…” My throat closes up, and I start to tremble under the weight of my intended confession.

“Jake?”

“I…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Shit, Camille.” I cup her cheeks with my big palms, leveling my face with hers. The wideness of her eyes kicks me into touch. She’s worried. “I love you,” I say, searching her blue eyes. “I love you so fucking much and I need you to know that.”

She moves back, making my hands drop from her face. She’s shocked, her eyes clouding over. I don’t know what I expected her to say or do, but I wasn’t prepared for this reaction. She looks ready to bolt.

After what feels like a lifetime—a torturous, painful lifetime—she finally speaks, her lovely lips trembling over her words. “I love you, too,” she blubbers, hiding her face in her hands.

Her reply brands itself on my heart and brings another small part of me back to life. I breathe out, not realizing I was holding my breath until that moment, and move in to claim her quaking body, lifting her from her feet and constricting her in my hold. She loves me, too, and I can only pray that it’s enough to see us through the dark days ahead.

I spend not nearly enough time holding her in my arms, reinforcing my declaration with the force of my squeeze, before detaching her from me. The light I catch in her eyes floors me. So bright and hopeful. I’m the reason for that, and it’s both deeply gratifying and equally guilt inducing. She doesn’t even really know me. But she will. Once this shit is all cleared up, I’ll take the steps I’ve been avoiding for so long. Just the thought of what needs to be done makes my heartbeat slow.