Protector Unmatched, page 5
Pearce lifted his hand and slid it onto her nape, while he stroked her neck with his thumb. A heartbeat later, he slanted his lips over hers and kissed her. Gently at first, just lips touching lips. Chaste. Innocent. Tender.
~ ~ ~
He’d warned her, given her enough time to pull back, to say no, but Daphne hadn’t heeded the warning. Pearce’s phone still in her hands, she’d at first been too worried that he noticed that she’d tried to go into the settings to plant a trace. That was the reason why she’d turned her back to him, but he’d looked over her shoulder, and she’d been unable to execute her plan. And when he locked eyes with her, a new plan had formed in her head. One that was ultimately more dangerous and fraught with too many variables. And depended upon one fundamental question: would she be willing to use her body to save her brother?
Apparently, her body was answering that particular question for itself. Because not only did she not push Pearce away, she tilted her head slightly and parted her lips to allow him access, to invite him. She could certainly blame all kinds of things for this: her love for her brother, her fear of landing in prison if she did whatever the kidnappers wanted, her attraction to Guido’s henchman despite knowing what these people were capable of. For all she knew, Pearce could have been the one who’d cut off her brother’s finger. Yet here she was, allowing him to kiss her.
Well, of course, she could blame the kiss itself. This man knew what he was doing. He was no shy computer geek like he pretended to be. He’d probably never seen a line of code in his entire life. Because no geek she’d ever met kissed like this. And in her time as a hacker, she’d met plenty.
No, Pearce was something else altogether. His kiss spoke of passion, of experience, of desire and lust. Of so many things she should never share with an enemy. Yet she responded to him, allowed him to explore her, to tease soft moans from her, to send erotic shivers down her spine. He tasted of maleness, of power and strength, of danger. Maybe it was the danger she responded to most. Maybe she’d missed that in the last six months after she’d been forced to give up her life as a hacker. That had to be it, because why else would she put her arms around him and press her body to his, chest to chest, groin to groin?
Her response seemed to do something to him, because he suddenly moaned too. Whatever the reason was, why he’d decided to kiss her—and she was sure it was part of Guido’s plan to keep an eye on her—it didn’t leave him cold. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she could use it against him and his associates. Though right now, her brain didn’t seem to function properly, because all she could think of was this kiss, this man, his hands on her.
One hand was still on her nape, but the other one he was now sliding down her back to her ass. He gripped her possessively and yanked her against him so hard that she couldn’t ignore the other reaction she’d conjured in Pearce: he was as hard as a crowbar. He definitely wasn’t faking this. He was attracted to her, but would it be sufficient to make him betray Guido?
Again, she couldn’t find an answer to her question, because her brain kept shutting down, and her senses overloaded. Her apartment suddenly felt like a sauna. The blood in her veins was like hot lava, while her skin prickled with anticipation. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Everything around her seemed to blend into the background. Nothing seemed real anymore.
Tired of her problems and the choices she had to make, she let herself go. A few moments of bliss, of abandon, surely couldn’t hurt. Even if what she did was wrong. Even if Pearce was an enemy. An enemy with the perfect touch. A touch that awakened something in her, a need she’d not fulfilled in quite a while, the need to feel a man’s hands and lips on her.
With every second their mouths were fused, the heat between them increased. As if they were two matches rubbing against each other, daring the other to ignite first.
When Pearce squeezed her ass harder while rubbing his hard-on against her, a loud moan escaped her. Suddenly, he ripped his lips from hers and loosened his grip.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his baby-blues shining with lust. “I’m going too fast, aren’t I?” He took his hand off her backside and let out a breath. “I didn’t mean to maul you like that.”
“Maul me?” Far from it. Though the word did act as a cold shower.
“Yeah, your lips are all red.” He rubbed his chin. “Sorry, five o’clock shadow. Had I known, I would have shaved…”
She almost had to chuckle at that. Almost. His act was good. First, he’d played the shy but loveable geek, then the experienced kisser, and now he was the date who showed concern.
“It’s okay,” she said automatically, and turned her head away.
But a moment later, she felt his fingers underneath her chin, turning her face back to him. “I should probably leave.”
Damn it, how was she gonna get access to his cell phone now? Or a chance to win him over to her side so he would betray Guido? “So soon?”
With a smile, he shook his head. “As tempting as this is, I can’t stay. I know where it would end. And I’m not gonna take advantage of you like that.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek in a gesture so tender that it made her forget for a moment who he was. “But you haven’t seen the last of me yet.” He pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “Now how about that phone number so I can ask you out for a proper date?”
She looked at her hands and realized that she wasn’t holding the cell phone anymore. Where was it? But before she could look around, Pearce was already reaching for something on the floor. It was his phone.
“Oh, sorry, I must have dropped it,” she said.
“Not your fault,” he said, and unlocked it. “Now, what’s your number?”
Seeing that he wasn’t handing the phone back to her but had decided to program the number himself, she had no choice but to recite it for him.
He typed it in, then added her name. Her full name. She sucked in a breath, and he looked up instantly. Their eyes met.
He looked caught. Guilty. This confirmed it more than ever before. But she was curious what excuse he would have for knowing her last name, when she’d only introduced herself by her first name.
“How did you know my last name?”
He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then pointed over his shoulder. “Uh, the mail on your kitchen counter.” He shrugged. “Sorry, didn’t mean to nose around, but I notice stuff.”
“Hmm.” Smart. She cast a look toward the counter, where, indeed, some of her mail was piling up.
Pearce pressed a button on his phone, and a second later, her own cell phone began to ring.
“Now you have my number.” He disconnected the call, and the ringing stopped. “And you can program me in under Douglas, Pearce Douglas.”
“I will,” she promised, and right after he was gone, she would scour the internet to find out if a Pearce Douglas existed, or whether he’d just made up the name to put her at ease.
Pearce grabbed his jacket and put it on, then shoved his phone into his pocket before looking at her again.
“Are you gonna answer when I call you?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you suddenly have that look as if you regretted letting me kiss you.”
“Regretted?” She couldn’t let him believe that, because there was still a chance that she could milk him for information, if not tonight, then maybe tomorrow.
She felt like a vixen when she took a step toward him, put her hand on the back of his neck, and pulled his head to her. “Does this look like regret?” she asked, and kissed him as deeply as he’d kissed her earlier.
Pearce immediately slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, but she was already taking her lips off his.
“Are you trying to drive me insane?” he asked, and pressed his forehead to hers, while letting out a ragged breath. “Have mercy on a shy computer geek, Daphne.”
“I don’t think you’re as shy as you claim to be.”
He laughed. “Well, I guess you’re gonna find out the truth sooner or later.”
Another threat veiled with a joke. He was subtle, but they both knew what game they were playing. The question was: who was better at it?
8
Once outside Daphne’s apartment, Pearce took a deep breath. Wow! This evening hadn’t gone at all how he’d expected. But he wasn’t complaining. Kissing Daphne hadn’t been part of his initial plan, but when it had happened and when Daphne welcomed him so openly, he’d barely been able to stop himself from ripping her clothes off and burying his rock-hard cock deep inside her until they were both sated. Only one thing had stopped him: the knowledge that Daphne was his would-be killer. He couldn’t trust her. Besides, he had her wallet in his jacket pocket and a dagger in his boot. Had they gotten naked, she might have seen either item.
So he’d played the respectful man who didn’t fuck a woman on the first night of meeting her, even though that was a difficult character to play. Shy computer geek had been a little easier—it came more natural, because, deep down, that’s what he was. He still couldn’t figure out why she’d invited him to her place, but once he was back at the compound, he’d run a full background check on her to see if it would help him understand her. But first, he had to return to Daphne’s office.
Entering the locked and guarded office building at night was much easier than it had been during the day, because this time he was alone and could make use of his skill of walking through walls. He remained invisible the entire time he was inside the building, and the night security guard was none the wiser. Nevertheless, Pearce had to be careful. A few employees burned the midnight oil on the floor Daphne worked on.
As quietly as possible, Pearce made his way to her cubicle and looked for a good spot where to leave Daphne’s wallet. It couldn’t be in plain sight, or she’d never believe she’d forgotten it in the office. The solution came in the form of a half-eaten bag of chips. He placed the wallet underneath it, only allowing a small corner to peek from it. Tomorrow, when Daphne returned to the office and wanted to snack on the salty treats, she would discover her wallet.
His work done, he left the building the same way he’d entered it.
When he entered the compound kitchen around midnight to grab another drink, he was surprised to see that he wasn’t the only one still awake. In fact, all his fellow Stealth Guardians—Aiden, Hamish, Manus, Logan, and Enya—had congregated in the kitchen.
“What the fuck, Pearce!” Logan greeted him.
“Somebody’s in a bad mood. What’s going on? Did we have demon activity?” Pearce asked, and glanced at the others. To his surprise, they looked just as surly as Logan.
“Where the fuck were you?” Manus growled.
“We’re your family, and you just let us wonder what happened to you?” Hamish added.
Fuck, the jig was up. But on the off chance that this wasn’t about the death vision, he played the clueless one, another role he had trouble identifying with. “Can you guys be a little less cryptic? I’m tired. I wanna go to bed.”
“You’re not going anywhere before we’ve talked about this,” Logan insisted. “You were gone for hours, without asking anybody to cover your shift, without answering your phone.”
Ah, shit, Pearce had totally forgotten that he was supposed to cover the late shift in the command center. In his defense, he’d thought he’d be back earlier. “So I forgot. And my phone was probably on silent.” Had he forgotten to put the ringer back on after his earlier excursion with Winter? Anyway, it didn’t matter. At least all his friends were pissed about was that he’d skipped a shift and hadn’t answered his phone. “Sorry, guys, but you’re really taking this all too seriously. Do you have any idea how many shifts I’ve had to cover for you guys? So, I miss one tiny little shift, and you give me crap. That blows.”
He marched toward the refrigerator to get a drink.
“You think this is about a fucking shift?”
Logan’s incredulous tone made Pearce look over his shoulder.
“This is about Winter’s vision.”
“Shit,” Pearce cursed under his breath, but they all heard him. It was time to go on the offensive. “If your wife could keep a secret for longer than two seconds—”
Logan already had him by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you say one bad thing about Winter, or else! You should be grateful that she warned you! And that she was worried about you when you didn’t show up for your shift and didn’t answer her calls. So worried, in fact, that she confessed that she’d seen you die in her vision. But instead of heeding her warning, what do you do? You go out and chase after your killer! Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Pearce had heard enough. He pushed Logan off him and narrowed his eyes. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do. Yes, Winter warned me. But she also promised to keep the vision to herself. I thought she was on board after we identified the woman from her vision together and—”
“You did what?” Logan glared at him. “Are you saying you took Winter out of the compound to identify your killer for you?”
Pearce raised an eyebrow. Apparently Winter had conveniently left that part of the story out in order not to get into more hot water with her overprotective mate. Pearce hadn’t meant to rat her out; he’d simply assumed that Logan already knew.
“Oops.” When Logan growled, Pearce said, “Don’t blame her. I talked her into it. Besides, she was invisible the entire time. There was no danger of a demon spotting her. You can trust me on that. I’d never put your mate in danger.” He looked at Hamish, Aiden, and Manus. “Nor yours.”
“You’d better not,” Aiden grumbled, while Hamish only nodded.
Manus tilted his chin up. “You should have called a meeting to discuss how to proceed.”
“What part of it’s my business did you not get?” Pearce asked.
“Well, apparently none of us got that part,” Hamish said. “So why don’t you explain it to us?” He folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance.
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m gonna deal with it.”
“Without a Second? Out of the question,” Hamish said. “You can’t go out to eliminate her without backup.”
Pearce felt his heart miss a beat. A shaky breath left his chest, and he suddenly felt an icy shiver slither down his spine. “Eliminate? You thought I’d gone out tonight to eliminate her?”
Hamish furrowed his brow. The others also looked perplexed. They had no idea about his plan. Apparently Winter had been rather stingy with facts when telling her mate about the situation. It appeared that she could keep a secret after all. Not that it would do him much good now. He had to come clean before his brethren took matters into their own hands and eliminated the threat to Pearce’s life.
“Well,” Hamish said. “Did you?”
Pearce shook his head.
“So all you did was reconnaissance?” Manus asked. “You made no contact with the subject? Just figured out what the best way will be?”
Pearce tilted his head a little to the side. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, still sounding infuriated.
“What I said!” Pearce shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m going to deal with it. With her. I need to find out why she wants to kill me. And then I’ll make sure it won’t happen.”
Logan looked at him suspiciously. “How?”
“You know what, Logan? I’ve had enough of your pissy attitude for one night. It’s my business how I make sure Daphne doesn’t kill me, okay?” He stabbed his index finger into Logan’s shoulder. “It’s my fucking business!”
“It’s compound business,” Logan replied, his anger barely leashed.
“Oh yeah? Was it also compound business when you decided to change the outcome of Winter’s own death vision? Huh? I seem to remember that you asked us to butt out too. So excuse me if I do the same. My life, my death, my choice. Do you get it?”
Logan blanched with fury. “Are you saying that you’re mad enough to try and change Winter’s vision by befriending your killer?”
Befriending was perhaps not the most accurate description, not after the passionate kiss that Pearce had shared with Daphne tonight, but that was none of Logan’s business.
“It worked for you. You think I’m not capable of changing whatever turns Daphne into a killer?”
“Have you checked out her background? Her history?” Enya asked.
“Who says she’s not a killer already?” Aiden added.
Pearce glared at him. “She’s not!” Why he was so sure about that, he didn’t really know. But the woman he’d held in his arms tonight had never killed anybody. And he’d do anything to make sure she never would. For both their sakes.
Hamish gave him an odd look. “Where exactly were you tonight? And what were you doing?”
“I told Logan it’s none of his business, and the same goes for you. For all of you. I’m handling it my way.”
Manus shook his head in disbelief. “Oh my God, you slept with her. You slept with your killer.”
Shocked gasps echoed in the kitchen.
Heat shot through Pearce’s core, and he clenched his fists. Manus’s assumption came a little too close to the truth. He took a breath, and then, as calmly as he could, he said, “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t use my dick to solve problems. I use my brain.” Then he made a motion toward the door. “So, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve gotta run a background check.” He turned his back on his friends.
“You’re crazy if you think you can change the vision,” Logan called after him.
“Don’t do this, Pearce,” Aiden warned him. “Let’s think this through first.”
“I believe he’s thinking with his little brain,” Manus added.
At the door, Pearce lifted his right hand and, without looking over his shoulder, extended his middle finger, telling his comrades what exactly he thought of their comments. And to underscore it, he made the effort of opening the door instead of walking through it, just so he could slam it shut with a loud thud.
