She deserved to know if her life was truly in danger.
* * * *
“So you’re telling me it’s easier to push Blake Hewitt out of DC rather than allow her to remain here through the end of the campaign?” Indignation surged through Mason, making his blood boil.
Unbelievable. Did any of them realize she was an actual human being with thoughts and feelings? She wasn’t a rebellious teen set to destroy her father’s image. She’d made a simple mistake.
And her father wanted to banish her rather than deal with it.
“Frankly, yes, it is easier. Her father’s worried. He’d rather not have the distraction.” His superior Byron McLane sat across from him, a determined expression on his face. He was going by his orders, Mason knew this, but it still frustrated him.
Not a one of them seemed to give a shit about Blake, not even her father.
The only exception was him. And he couldn’t begin to explain why he cared.
Oh, you know why you care. You’re hot for her.
He ignored the taunting voice in his brain.
“My daughter doesn’t have any restraint. She believes everyone is her friend when they’re most definitely not. She’s a liability, both to herself and me. I can’t worry about her while focusing on the campaign. I just can’t.” James Hewitt sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled in front of him as he contemplated all of them over the top of his reading glasses. “The election is in three weeks. I want her gone.”
Only a few hours ago, more never-before-seen bikini photos had been splashed across the gossip blogs, reigniting Hewitt’s fury. Mason felt like he’d failed at his job. Even worse? He’d failed Blake in his promise to protect her.
Yet another copy of that damn magazine had found its way to the middle of the table, Blake’s smiling, scantily clad image gazing up at him. His cock gave a tiny twitch of interest and he wanted to growl aloud.
Down boy. It wouldn’t do to sport a boner in the middle of a meeting surrounded by all men, especially Blake’s father.
?
?I’ll keep an even closer watch over Miss Hewitt. We’ll start pulling longer shifts, Mitchell and I. Between the two of us, she’ll never be alone,” Mason suggested.
“That doesn’t seem to matter and you know it. She manages to find trouble regardless. Image is everything, you know this. Considering how well-connected everyone is with social media, one wrong move on Blake’s part and it’s splashed across the Internet in seconds,” Byron explained.
“It’s best if she’s clear across the country, at our home on Whitney Island,” Hewitt added. “It’s a small community and completely isolated. No way could she find any trouble there.”
“I suppose Mitchell and I will be on detail in California then.” Damn it, Mason didn’t want to leave. He was working toward a promotion, aspiring to a coveted White House assignment. How the hell could he impress anyone if he was stuck on a remote island off the coast of Northern California?
“You don’t have a choice, Russell. She’s part of your detail.” Byron sent him a death glare. “And considering Mitchell has some personal matters to attend to, I’m assigning you and only you for the job of keeping tabs on Blake while on Whitney Island. We’ll keep Mitchell here on light campaign duty until it’s over.”
Mason fumed silently. Great. All alone with Blake on a tiny island, that sounded like absolute torture—or pure, out of control pleasure, if he gave into the urges that haunted him constantly.
And that was the major problem. He lusted for her, wanted nothing more than to sink his cock deep inside her sexy little body and lose himself completely. But he couldn’t. It was his job to protect her, not fuck her. No matter how badly he wanted to.
“I want her out of the city by morning. No later.” Hewitt pushed his chair back and stood, everyone else rising with him.
“Yes, sir.” Mason reluctantly stood, kept his gaze downcast. He’d just been curtly dismissed, sent on the most torturous assignment yet.
Three weeks on a lightly populated island with a woman who haunted his dreams at night and his thoughts throughout the day. All by himself.
His every dream and nightmare come to life.
“Why did you do that?” Byron asked the second Hewitt and his cronies left the room.
Mason shrugged. “Do what?”
“Argue with the vice president. You’re looking for a promotion. That’s not the way to go about it and you know it.” Byron shook his head. “Since when do you care so much about his daughter anyway? I thought she drove you crazy.”
Crazy with lust, not that he’d ever admit it. “No one gives a shit about her, especially her father.”