Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)

“That’s why you should zip it,” she mumbled, holding her skirt down to squat in as much of a lady-like fashion as was possible considering the circumstances.

“Need help?”

Julie froze at the sound of a familiar male voice that couldn’t possible belong to who she thought it did, when the tingling awareness down her spine told her it was indeed exactly who she thought it was. Luke Walker, the brother of her her best friend’s soon-to-be husband. Not only did Luke and his two brothers run Walker Security, they held a number of airport consulting contracts, including this one. She squeezed her eyes shut at her predicament, at having the very man she’d avoided at all cost for the last six months standing above her.

Slowly, her gaze lifted, travelling upward in what felt like slow motion. She took in muscular, denim-clad legs, a tapered waist, and an impressive chest. He bent down, a wisp of his dark hair brushing his brow, his rich, chocolate-brown stare capturing hers and leaving her speechless.

Memories of the two of them together, of a too short, heated affair that had happened when he’d been on leave from the SEALS, rushed through her. It had been a safe fling, short-lived, and without the strings and complications that she knew from experience led couples straight to divorce court. But he wasn’t a SEAL any more, and he wasn’t leaving this time, and after struggling to shake off the impact he’d had on her ever since they’d parted ways, she’d accepted that nothing about him had ever been safe.

“How are you here when I’m here?” she whispered. The timing was impossible, regardless of his contracts.

“Luck it seems,” he said, and those full, sensual lips she knew could be both punishing and soothing in all the right ways, hinted at a smile. “I had a meeting with airport officials that ended just in time to give you a helping hand.” He reached for a large file, shoved papers inside, and then rested an elbow on his knee to offer it to her. “Shouldn’t you be in New York with the bride-to-be?”

“Yes,” she said, stuffing the file in her bag, pretty sure her own Lady Luck was playing games with her tonight. “I should. I got pressured into a negotiation that I regret.” She stood up and he followed, handing her one last file that she quickly put into her briefcase. “Thank you for your help.”

She couldn’t seem to think of what else to say. He was so close she could smell the masculine spice of his cologne. She knew the brand, knew where he sprayed it. And she knew how good it smelled when he was naked and it was the only thing he had on. She shoved the inappropriate and tantalising thought away and reached for something, anything, to say. “Are you on this flight?”

“I guess that’s where my luck runs out,” he said, glancing at the window before adding, “I’m on the next one out and I’m not optimistic with this weather.”

“You have to be back to help with the wedding, too,” she insisted. “You’re the best man. Can they convince someone to give up a seat for you?”

“The airline tried. There were no takers. I’ll get there one way or the other though, even if that means catching a charter flight.”

“You can’t fly out in some small plane in a dangerous storm,” Julie said, alarmed. “Luke, please tell me you won’t do that.”

“You just said I have to get home.”

“You do, but safely.”

He arched a brow. “Worried about me?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. This

was one area she wasn’t hiding her feelings. “I am worried about you. Very. I know you were a SEAL, but don’t be macho. You can crash and die just like the rest of us.”

“I’m not macho.”

“You Walker men personify macho.”

“You must be talking about my brothers,” he joked.

“You were a SEAL. That’s another way to spell macho.”

“I was,” he agreed. “But not any more.”

Julie discreetly inhaled at the implication of those words, the silent message they held. He was here. He wasn’t leaving this time. What was she going to do about it? Those chocolate brown eyes of his held hers, and the air thickened, crackling with sudden awareness. His voice softened, turned velvety. “You know, Julie, we could-”

“Excuse me, Ms. Morrison,” the airline attendant interrupted. “You need to board.”

“I’m on my way,” Julie said, glancing at the woman and then quickly back to Luke, hoping he’d finish his sentence.

He hesitated only an instant, clearly abandoning whatever he’d intended to say. “You better go. See you at the rehearsal dinner. I’ll be there. You get on that plane and make sure you’re there, too.”

“Don’t take unnecessary risks,” Julie ordered.

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”