Watch Me

  “You left one guy…only to get caught by another. You sure seem popular here, Gwen.”

  She had to swallow to clear the lump in her throat. “It’s a busy club. If you look around, you’ll see that everyone is dancing here.” Her chin notched up. “And I wasn’t about to fuck the blond on the dance floor.” She’d very clearly told him that she was only there to dance.

  “Learned from last time, huh?”

  At those low words, everything slowed down for her. Slowed down and got quiet. Because he had not just said that to her.

  “It’s not safe to screw a stranger you meet at a bar. But you learned that, didn’t you?” His jaw was harder, his words rougher. He was angry.

  So was she. “Let me go,” Gwen said.

  He gave a short, negative shake of his head.

  “Let me go,” Gwen said again, “Or I will start screaming. Want to see how fast the bouncers close in and drag you out of here?”

  He was silent a moment. The heat from his touch seemed to sear her. Gwen held her breath and she got ready to scream.

  He let her go.

  Quickly, she stepped back. She bumped into the dancers behind her, and Gwen muttered an apology. Then she kept right on muttering apologies as she pushed her way through the crowd. She couldn’t believe that Chance had just hurt her that way. To bring up Ethan. Yes, she knew hooking up with him had been a colossal mistake—one that still ripped at her heart.

  But she didn’t need Chance pointing out her past mistakes to her. No one was perfect, not even the mighty Chance.

  She hurried back to her table, said her good-byes to her friends, and she grabbed her jacket. Gwen still had that too-aware feeling, as if someone was watching her.

  Chance?

  She didn’t look around for him. Instead, she made a beeline for the exit. Gwen shoved open the door and headed out into the cold December night. December in D.C….that meant the politicians were mostly out of town and the snow was on the ground. Or, in this case, the snow was falling. Light snowflakes feathered down over her and Gwen shivered. She pulled her coat a bit closer and hunched her shoulders. She’d hail a cab and get the hell out of there. She lifted her hand—

  Chance caught her fingers.

  When she exhaled, the cold turned her breath into a little puff of smoke.

  “I’m sorry,” Chance said, that deep voice of his a rumble that she could almost feel. “I hurt you back there, and, believe me, that’s the last thing I intended to do.”

  The snowflakes kept falling on them.

  “I can be a jealous jerk sometimes,” he told her as he stepped closer. “You should probably know that about me.”

  Cars were rushing by on the street. She could grab a taxi, no problem. But even though the cold was starting to make her toes tingle in her boots, Gwen didn’t move. “Jealous?” It took an effort to get that one word out. Then she gave a strangled laugh, convinced he was mocking her. “You’ve never been jealous—”

  “I wanted to punch the men who were dancing with you in that club. Shove them the hell away from you. I wanted to be the only one touching you.”

  She couldn’t be hearing him correctly. The cold had frozen her ears and she wasn’t hearing—

  “And do you know how long I’ve wanted to beat the hell out of Ethan Barclay?”

  Ethan. Her ex-lover. The man who’d taught her how very wrong it was to ever trust a sweet-talking stranger. The man she’d turned to out of desperation…

  Because I couldn’t have Chance.

  Gwen shook her head.

  “Ever since he had you.” And he stepped even closer to her. So close she could feel the tempting warmth of his body again. “He had what he never should have touched.”

  She had no clue what was going on right then. Chance was saying things…the way he was looking at her…

  “I wanted you.” His head bent toward her. His lips were so close. “If anyone was going to fuck you, it should have been me.”

  This wasn’t happening.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “But I screwed up. I know I did.”

  Yes, he had.

  “I want another chance with you.”

  She was pretty sure her jaw dropped. Her whole body was shaking from the cold, though, so it was rather hard to tell for certain.

  “You and me,” Chance murmured. “Let’s see what can happen between the two of us.”

  Gwen already had a pretty good idea of what would happen. An explosion. No, maybe an implosion. They’d touch. They’d go wild. It would be awesome.

  But then the aftermath would come. She’d just be left with ashes.

  Been there, done that.

  She slipped away from him. Raised her hand. Got a taxi to miraculously stop in about ten seconds.

  Chance just watched her with those dark eyes of his.

  “Good-bye, Chance,” she said as she reached for the cab’s door. She’d learned her lesson before. Some fires burned too hot. It was better to be cold than to go up in flames.

  She slid into the cab and mumbled her destination to the driver. When the cab eased away from the curb, Gwen told herself not to look back at Chance. But, dammit, she did.

  The snow was falling on him. His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket. And he was just…staring after her.

  Gwen shivered in the cab. She didn’t know why Chance Valentine was suddenly back in her life, but she wasn’t dumb enough to believe his reappearance was due to some overwhelming desire for her.

  If only.

  She knew how Chance felt about her. Chance and his control…the man never let anyone or anything break through that iron control of his. And he sure as hell wasn’t coming after her because his need for her had grown too strong.

  No, something else was happening. She just had to figure out what it was.

  But if Chance is involved…it can’t be good.

  Chance had been her father’s chief of security. The man who took care of any danger that arose. He had a well-deserved reputation for being a bad-ass.

  So why was the bad-ass after her?

  ***

  He watched the taxi drive away. Chance didn’t even feel the icy touch of the snow around him. He seemed to be burning up from the inside. He’d screwed up in the club. A grade-A screw up. But he’d seen Gwen with those other men, and a white-hot jealousy had exploded within him.

  His phone was ringing. He yanked it out of his pocket even as he stalked down the street. “Valentine,” he snapped.

  “I thought the whole point…” Lex’s mocking voice said, “was to keep a twenty-four, seven watch on her. Not to have your pretty blonde lady run away as fast as she could.”

  Lex could be such a dick. “You’re tailing her, right?”

  “I’m behind the cab right now.”

  Chance grunted as he climbed into his car. “I’ll be at her apartment before she is.”

  “Cause that’s not going to make her uncomfortable,” Lex murmured.

  “I understand Gwen. She ran tonight because I was an idiot.” He slammed his door. “I said the wrong thing, but I’ve got this.”

  “You’d better, man. With the power her father has, the guy could make or break our business.” Lex wasn’t mocking anymore. “We need his clout, you know it. So if I need to take over this case, if there’s too much between you and Gwen for this to work out—”

  “Gwen is mine.” He hadn’t meant to say those words. Had he? “I’ve got this,” Chance repeated. “Trust me.” And we don’t need Will Hawthorne. We can make this business a success on our own.

  Lex’s sigh traveled over the line. “All right, but just remember, I’m here as backup, if you need me.”

  He disconnected the call. He didn’t need Lex’s help. Not then. What he needed was to stop seeing the image of Gwen’s pain-filled green eyes in his mind. When she’d looked up at him, the hurt plain to see in her gorgeous gaze—well, she’d nearly gutted him. And the woman had no idea. She thought he was screwing
around with her? Hell, no. Every word he’d said that night had been the truth.

  As much as he could, he only wanted to give Gwen the truth.

  He cut through the city, taking the path that Chance knew would get him to her apartment long before the cabbie arrived. His fingers were tight around the wheel. He’d gone into that club, he’d tracked her there when her apartment had been empty, and he’d been so pissed when he saw her slammed against that prick on the dance floor. Her movements had been pure sex, and the dumb-ass with her had been holding her tightly.

  He’d looked at them and thought…

  The fuck, no. When Gwen leaves, she’s only leaving with me.

  He wasn’t going to wreck things with her again.

  He cut through the falling snow and was soon at Gwen’s place. He parked his car, turned up the collar on his coat, and headed toward her building. He propped his back against the bricks there, standing in the shadows, as he surveyed the scene. No one else was out. No neighbors. This area was far too isolated for his peace of mind. Especially if Ethan Barclay really was trying to hunt Gwen.

  He kept his hands shoved into his pockets. He’d have to play this one very carefully with Gwen…if he messed up again, there was no way she would let him get close.

  The cab turned onto the street. He could see its lights clearly. The wheels slowed in front of Gwen’s building. The back door opened and Gwen slid out. Before she’d even reached the sidewalk, the cabbie had already left.

  Gwen headed straight for her apartment building. She didn’t even look his way. There were too many places to hide on that street. Too much darkness. He stepped forward, ready to call out to her but—

  She reached for the door to her building. Even as she pulled it open, someone else was shoving it back toward her. Someone was shoving Gwen back and knocking her to the ground.

  Chance flew toward them, yelling Gwen’s name. He could make out a figure in black—black pants, black shirt, black ski mask. A big guy who was crouched over Gwen. She was fighting the fellow, punching at him.

  The hell, no.

  The attacker glanced up just as Chance threw a punch right at the bastard. The man flew back, slamming into the ground. Chance immediately reached for Gwen. He pulled Gwen to her feet. “Baby, are you okay?”

  He heard the thud of retreating footsteps. Chance looked to the right and saw the guy racing away into the night.

  “He’s got my bag!” Gwen said. “He took it—”

  Swearing, Chance gave chase. He rushed after the bastard, his legs pistoning fast. He could see the jerk up ahead, nearing a parked van and—

  The van’s lights flashed on right then and the engine growled to life. Sonofabitch—a getaway car! The side of the van flew open and the guy in black leapt inside.

  In the next instant, the van came careening straight for Chance.

  “Run, Chance!” Gwen’s scream—and that scream was coming from just a few feet away. He looked over his shoulder and saw her standing in the middle of the street. The van’s lights were on him, on her, and, dammit, that van was rushing far too fast toward them.

  He ran—to her. Chance grabbed Gwen and they leapt out of the road and flew toward the sidewalk. They hit the ground and he made sure to take the force of the impact, and then they were rolling, spinning away from the street as the van roared past them.

  He could smell burning rubber and exhaust. He could hear the van’s growling engine. And when he looked up, Chance saw the back of the van and its glowing red tail-lights. The vehicle screeched down the road and made a hard right turn at the intersection.

  Chance sure as shit hoped Lex had just seen what went down. Lex had better tail that van and catch that jerk.

  “Are you hurt?” Gwen whispered.

  He looked back down at her. They were under a street light and the glow fell on them. Her eyes looked even bigger than before. Her lips were parted. Such red, full lips. Lips that he thought about far too much.

  But then, he thought of Gwen too much. Beautiful, perfect Gwen. Gwen with her wide eyes, her delicate nose, and those cheeks that looked as if they were made of glass. Gwen’s body was all sensual curves—curves that drove him out of his head and made him itch to touch her.

  Except…she wasn’t for him. That was what he’d thought, anyway. Too good. A woman like her would shatter if he touched her.

  Only she wasn’t shattering just then.

  “Are you hurt?” Gwen asked again.

  Hell, that was supposed to be his line. He shook his head.

  “Good,” she whispered. “I’m so glad. I-I was worried—”

  He kissed her. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline. Maybe it was because of the desire that he was so sick of holding in check around her. Maybe the why didn’t matter.

  Chance let go of his control. His mouth crashed onto hers. Onto those full, make-me-beg lips. His tongue thrust into her mouth and he tasted her the way he’d been dying to for so long.

  The lust he felt for her filled him. His cock stretched, aching to sink into her. And he kept kissing her, right there on the ground, with the snow falling around them. He kissed her hard. He kissed her deep. He kissed her the way he wanted to fuck her.

  And he knew that they’d just crossed a line, a point of no return.

  Gwen Hawthorne was going to be his, and anyone who tried to take her from him, anyone who tried to hurt her…he would fucking destroy.

  Chapter Two

  “It was a mugging, Chance. Just a mugging. Unfortunately, those happen in D.C., just like they happen in plenty of other big cities.” Gwen was proud of the fact that her voice sounded all nice and normal. Especially considering how very far from normal she actually felt.

  They were in her apartment. The cops had already come and left—the uniformed officer hadn’t seemed overly optimistic that her attacker would be caught.

  And while the fresh-faced cop had jotted down notes, Chance had glared at the guy. If looks could kill…

  “You don’t know that it was just a mugging,” Chance argued. “We can’t be sure of that.” He was currently stalking in front of her couch.

  He was sexy when he stalked. All tall, dark, and menacing.

  He’s even sexier when he kisses me.

  She still couldn’t believe that had happened. He’d kissed her on the street, with the snow all around them. And he’d wanted her. No way had she missed that too-telling sign. It would have been nearly impossible to miss the huge swell of his arousal pressing into her.

  “The cops should patrol your neighborhood. Keep guards on you.”

  That was the last thing she wanted. She’d already spent too many years being under guard, or rather, under the too watchful eyes of her father’s security team.

  Speaking of her father… “You’re not going to tell him, are you? You aren’t planning to tell my father about the mugging?”

  He stopped pacing. “You were attacked. The guy was waiting at your place—”

  “You heard the cop! He thought the guy was probably just casing the neighborhood. I was the unlucky one who happened to be here, at the wrong time.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “What would have happened if I hadn’t been here?”

  “H-he would have taken my purse and left.”

  He shook his head. “You really believe that?”

  No. Yes. She didn’t know. Gwen rose to her feet. Closed the distance between them. “Why were you here?” He’d burst out of the darkness like an avenging angel.

  His eyelids flickered. “I couldn’t let things end like that between us. I needed to…to talk with you.”

  “So you followed me home?”

  “No, I beat you home. And that’s how I know that jerk was waiting inside the building—he was waiting for you.”

  Goosebumps rose on her arms.

  Chance’s gaze slid toward her door. The door she’d triple locked. “He got away with your keys. I’ll get my men to change the locks here first thing. And the locks at y
our gallery. You told the cop that there weren’t any credit cards in your bag, but are you sure about that?”

  “I only had a little cash in my bag. Nothing more.” Her shoulders straightened. “And I don’t need your guys coming to fix my locks. I know how to hire a locksmith. I can easily take care of that on my own.”

  Silence. His gaze swung back to her. Oh, my, but that stare of his glittered with intensity. “Has anything else like this happened to you recently?”

  Gwen forced herself to keep holding his stare. “Has someone mugged me, you mean? No, this is a first—”

  His hand lifted and curled around her arm. At that touch, her heartbeat instantly went into a double-time beat.

  “Has anyone given you trouble? Have you noticed anyone following you?”

  She jerked a bit at his questions.

  “Gwen?”

  Her eyes narrowed on him. “You have your own PI business now.”

  He stared back at her. “It’s a bodyguard business. We specialize in high-end protection. The discrete, save-your-ass variety. But we do occasionally handle…other types of security cases.”

  He’d saved her ass tonight. She sucked in a deep breath, one that seemed to chill her lungs. “Has my father been to see you?”

  “What does he have to do with anything?”

  “He wants me protected.” No, that wasn’t quite true. “He wants me in a cage. So the world can’t hurt me. And so I can’t see the world.” He was still touching her, and she was far too conscious of his touch. “It’s because of Ethan, isn’t it? My dad is still worried about him.”

  “Ethan’s a sick bastard.”

  Her stomach knotted. “Ethan can’t get close to me. I have a restraining order against him, remember? Besides, he’s not after me. I know that’s what my father thinks, but he’s wrong. I haven’t seen or heard from the guy in six months. Not since…”

  Silence. The kind of silence that she hated.

  But maybe she needed to say these words. “Not since you burst into my bedroom and beat the hell out of him.” Talk about a memory that had been permanently seared into her brain.

  ***

  He tossed the ski mask onto his bed. That bastard had come out of nowhere. Had the asshole been hiding in the dark? Waiting for Gwen?