working either. He wanted her. Not just any woman. Her.
When he had taken this gig his arrogant fat head had led him to believe he could control himself around her. Yeah, right. He’d proved in her hotel room two hours ago that he showed about as much control around her as a shark in a blood bath.
As a special ops soldier he had been trained to dig deep when every bone, muscle and tendon in his body was screaming for rest. He was trained to hold his line under extreme forms of torture no man should ever have to face. Apparently they hadn’t thought to train him to resist desire of this magnitude. Of course in reality he could resist her—there was simply some part of him that didn’t want to. And that was the part that scared him the most.
Ten minutes.
He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and searched the baroque-style ballroom for her. She wasn’t hard to find in that showstopper of swirling scarlet that hugged every inch of her lush curves—those it managed to contain anyway. If she’d wanted to make a statement of availability she’d succeeded. And Lorenzo was in the market and had the correct weight to buy.
But not Wolfe. his life was mapped out just as surely as hers. Work, women and play—in that order. It was a great life. A life any man with his head screwed on right would envy. A life he had never questioned before and, dammit, still didn’t. That soft, sexy sound she made every time he slipped his tongue into her mouth was nothing he wouldn’t forget with time.
Raucous laughter from somewhere behind him brought him out of his daze. Where the hell was she? The ever-moving crowd kept blocking his view, but even so his sixth sense told him she wasn’t there.
An icy chill slid down his spine.
Glancing to the left, he caught the eye of one of his team acting as a waiter. Jonesy subtly signalled towards the patio doors leading to the gardens. His mouth tightened. He’d told her not to leave the room. No doubt the perfect Prince of Triole had taken her outside, and that wasn’t going to happen on his watch.
Furious with himself for yet another lapse in concentration, Wolfe wove a determined line through the throng of guests until he was outside. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, he strained his hearing for the sound of her voice. Then he saw the flash of her strapless gown through the trees and the matching red stripe down the side of the Prince’s trousers. His and hers. Perfection in the making, he thought acidly.
Lorenzo had caught her hands in his, the expression on his face one of earnest concentration. Was he about to propose? Wolfe didn’t wait to find out.
‘Nice night for a stroll, ma’am.’
Ava stiffened at the sound of Wolfe’s voice behind her and tugged her hands out of Lorenzo’s. She knew Wolfe was reprimanding her for going against his orders, but she didn’t care.
Since he’d walked out of her hotel room she’d been more determined than ever to find Lorenzo attractive. She didn’t want Wolfe to be the only man who could make her melt with mindless passion, because she knew he was determined to stay unattached for ever and she needed the opposite. She wanted the opposite! And wanting something more with him was just asking for heartache. Especially when the look on his face as he’d stormed out of her hotel room had left her in no doubt as to how appalled he was by the attraction that still simmered between them.
He moved now, blocking her way, his legs set wide apart, his hands clasped behind his back. He was so intensely male he took her breath away and, try as she had all night, she couldn’t forget the way it felt to be pressed up against all that hard muscle.
Previously she would have said she wasn’t a woman who could get turned on by a powerful man. But of course previously she hadn’t met Wolfe. Hadn’t felt this explosion of chemistry that made her tingle and burn. Hadn’t felt such a strong need to be with someone not just sexually but…always.
She let out a silent, shaky breath she hoped he wouldn’t notice and stared him down.
‘Prince Lorenzo and I would like some privacy, Wolfe.’
‘I need to talk to you.’
Ava shook her head. Talking was a bad idea. Forgetting about what had happened in her hotel room was what was required. ‘Not now.’
Wolfe cut his eyes to Lorenzo and she knew he was on the verge of ordering him to leave. Only Wolfe would consider doing that with a man who was second in line to the throne.
‘Wolfe, please.’ She hated the way she sounded as if she was begging but she was. She couldn’t do this any more. First thing tomorrow morning she was going to contact her father and tell him to organise another bodyguard. Wolfe could still head up the case if he liked, but she knew there was absolutely no way she could feel anything more than friendship for any man she met while Wolfe was by her side. Even when he wasn’t with her she thought of him, ached for him. She was starting to fear that no one would measure up to him. Ever.
His jaw clenched, as it always did when he was annoyed with her, and if possible his expression grew even more remote.
God, he was impossible! That kiss back in her hotel room…Her lips parted…
Don’t think about it, she ordered herself.
Not easy when he blocked her path, giving her no choice but to either wait for him to step aside or turn around with her tail tucked between her legs and retreat back inside as he wanted her to do.
Ava knew which option she wasn’t going to take.
Stepping closer to him was a mistake, though, as her senses became immediately overloaded with the faint trace of musk and man—a combination that instantly flooded her body with heat and need.
She shivered and Lorenzo placed his hand on her shoulder. Straight away her undisciplined mind compared its size and texture to Wolfe’s. It felt cool, where Wolfe’s always felt so warm it bordered on hot, and it didn’t make her want to wind herself around him until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
‘Are you cold, piccolina?’
For a minute Ava thought Wolfe might do Lorenzo damage, and she quickly smiled her reassurance at Lorenzo before throwing Wolfe a baleful stare. ‘We can talk later. Right now I need you to move out of my way.’
In more ways than one, her mind quipped unhelpfully.
Ava waited, remembering the time he had threatened to toss her onto his horse. Back then she hadn’t believed he’d really do it. Now she knew better. Wolfe always got the job done, no matter what.
He glanced at his watch and then stepped aside, but it didn’t feel as if she had won a major victory.
In a fit of frustration she tightened her hold on Lorenzo’s arm in an attempt to disconnect her senses from Wolfe.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d done it to send a message to Wolfe that his rejection of her hadn’t affected her in the slightest. That she didn’t need him. But silently she accepted that if Lucy hadn’t interrupted them they’d have made love again. And she couldn’t dislodge the sensation that it just felt so right to be in Wolfe’s arms.
‘Ava?’
‘I’m
