I’ll drive you home. Any questions?”
“Connor, I told you last night I didn’t want a bodyguard—”
“Too bad.”
She shoved against his chest. “I refuse to be pushed around. You have no right. You can’t—oh!”
“Watch me.” He shoved her back against the car, bending her over backwards. She blinked up at him, her chest heaving.
He knew it wasn’t fair to intimidate her with his size and his strength. It didn’t work in the long term anyway; it was just a quick and dirty temporary solution, but she was so warm, her tits straining against her blouse. He felt every tremor that rippled through her soft, pliant body. And her scent was a low-down, nasty trick. A drug that went straight to his head and made him stupid.
Her thick eyelashes swept down, veiling her eyes. She wiggled against him, unintentionally sensual. “Connor,” she whispered. “Please. This isn’t right.”
“I’m holding your suitcase hostage, Erin. I mean business.”
“I am not your responsibility, Connor.” Her voice had a stern, lecturing tone that was strangely at odds with the vulnerable pose of her body. “You have no right. I can decide for myself—”
“I have to do this,” he broke in. “You know why?”
He waited to answer his own question until her eyes flicked up to his. “Because this is what your dad would’ve done,” he said flatly. “He had the right to shove you around, but he’s not here.”
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. He seized her chin and forced her to meet his eyes again. “You’ve got no clue, Erin. No clue what Novak is capable of. Do we understand each other?”
She licked her lips, her throat bobbing. “But it’s so rude!”
He was totally lost. “Rude? Who? Me?”
Her mouth tightened. “Yes, you, now that you mention it, but I wasn’t referring to you. There’s a driver waiting for me. It’s rude to just not show up without even calling them!”
He was so startled, he laughed out loud. “Is that all? Who cares if Mueller’s flunky waits at the airport? He won’t get his feelings hurt.”
She frowned. “If I had wanted to change the travel arrangements, I should’ve notified them in advance! I can’t just—”
“So call them when we get to the coast. Tell them you had a change of plans. You met someone, you brought someone. Tell them your boyfriend decided to come along at the last minute.”
“Boyfriend?” She shrank back.
“Why not?” He couldn’t keep his eyes from her breasts, which were straining the buttons of her blouse to their utmost. “Don’t you think they’d buy it? A woman like you, and a lowlife like me?”
She shoved him away, clearing just enough space for her to stand up. “Stop acting like a lowlife, Connor McCloud, if you don’t want to be taken for one!”
“You’re pissed at me because I kissed you?” His voice was dangerously unsteady. “I dared to touch the princess with my rude hands. Is that what’s bothering you?”
She made a break for it, trying to duck out from under his arm. He blocked her. She straightened up, adjusted her jacket, tugged her skirt into place. She wasn’t up to a physical tussle with him. She couldn’t win it, and dignity was more important to her.
“To be perfectly truthful, no,” she said stiffly. “That’s not what’s bothering me at all. It’s just not very flattering to have a man kiss you only because he wants to shut you up.”
He pulled that statement to pieces in an instant, looking at it from every side. Then he waited until curiosity compelled her eyes to flick up again. He stroked her exquisitely soft cheek with his thumb until the pink stain deepened to wild rose. He looked around. No one to see or hear. No reason at all to shut her up.
He kissed her again.
He wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe for her to stiffen up, shove him away. Anything but the roar of heat swelling inside him, the dazzling explosion of sparks. She clutched his upper arms; for balance, to pull him closer, he couldn’t tell, he didn’t care. He coaxed her mouth open. He wanted to touch that succulent pink tongue, to dance with it. He didn’t mean to stick his hand inside her jacket, he just found his calluses snagging her blouse as he explored the exquisite heft of her tits, the small nipples, tightening under his palm. He had no deliberate intention of pressing the aching bulge of his crotch against her.
Jesus. What was he thinking? They were in an airport parking garage. He’d come down here to protect her.
Fucking her was not part of the plan.
He pulled away, with enormous effort. “I wasn’t trying to shut you up that time,” he said raggedly. “You feel flattered now?”
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