Reckless (Benson Security 1)

“No, you don’t.” It was a low, obstinate drawl. “You and me, there’s something there.”

“W-what?” Oh, she needed badly to run and hide. Her fingernails bit into the desk as she held on tight.

“I’ve been taking it slow. Waiting for you.” He looked up at her through those thick lashes. “I’m done waiting.”

She was going to faint. Pass out. Possibly die. She knew it. Her heart was racing so fast it would have been impossible to count the beats. It was impossible to breathe. Her lungs didn’t work. They’d seized. She was trapped by Joe’s dark eyes. Paralysed in a gaze that seemed to see right through her.

“I’m putting you on notice,” he whispered. “You and me? We’re going to happen.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, he closed the distance and his lips brushed hers. Julia sucked in a breath, a gasp that made her dizzy. Her lips burned where he touched. Gently, softly, he rubbed his lips across hers. It set off a chain reaction. Tingles from her lips straight to her fingers and toes. Julia couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. She just stared at the man in front of her.

“Get ready.” She felt his words as a breath on her lips. “I’m coming for you.”

Leaning back, he kept his eyes on hers. It was as though he could see deep inside her. With one last, dark look, he turned and sauntered from the room, as though he hadn’t just reduced her to a puddle of confused need and fear on Rachel’s cream carpet. With trembling fingers, Julia lifted her fingertips to her lips. She still felt him there and that’s when she realised it wasn’t a kiss, it was a brand.

Joe was coming for her. He’d lost patience in his pursuit of her. She hadn’t even known he’d been pursuing her. Her mind couldn’t cope with this. It had officially overloaded. She forced her body to move as she gat

hered up her slip and towel.

“Get a move on, Jules,” Joe called. “We need to get out of here and the team are waiting downstairs.”

She hurried out of the apartment, clutching the sodden towel and slip to her. She kept her eyes firmly off the man beside her as they rode the elevator down to the garage. It didn’t matter what he thought would happen between them, or what he wanted. It didn’t even matter that Joe had a starring role in most of her X-rated dreams. Or that one smile from him made her heartbeat stutter. All that mattered was one irrefutable truth—there was no way she could handle a man like Joe Barone. No way at all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I can’t believe I’m in the Savoy,” Elle said as they were escorted to their suite of rooms by a butler.

Megan was sure that if it had been under any other circumstances than her putting the team in danger, she would have been excited too.

“You can borrow my phone if you want to send some pics to Claire,” Elle said.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Callum shot her a tight glance. “Or maybe never. I don’t think we need to put our location on Instagram, do you?”

Yeah, that shot hit its mark. “Seriously? You think I’m dumb enough to go public with our hideout?”

“I have no idea exactly how dumb you are,” Callum said. “To be honest, I’m hoping I never find out.”

“Are you Jeeves or Wooster?” Elle asked the butler. “And who wrote those books again?”

“The author was P.G. Wodehouse, madam,” the butler said. “Jeeves was the butler and Wooster was his employer.” He looked thoroughly bored at the question and Megan wondered how many times the guy had been asked it.

“See?” Elle looked over her shoulder at the frowning faces of her teammates. “I knew he’d know.”

“Oh for the love of Chanel,” Rachel muttered.

If Megan had been in a better mood, she may have found it funny that the princess of darkness was swanning through one of London’s most exclusive hotels with a group of ragamuffins in tow.

The butler stopped in front of a door and addressed Rachel. “Ms Ford-Talbot, as per your request we have joined two suites together to meet your requirements. I apologise again, on behalf of the hotel, that the Royal Suite wasn’t available for you at this time.”

“Not at all.” Rachel strode through the group. “It was a last minute decision on my part. I’m sure the accommodation you’ve arranged will be more than adequate.”

The butler nodded and opened the door. Megan followed everyone into the suite as the man waxed lyrical about the amenities. She felt her jaw hang open. The guy called the décor Elizabethan. Megan wasn’t sure what that meant, but to her it looked like they were staying in a castle. From the French style armoire, to the velour-covered chaise, the room was a study in elegance—which made her standing there in her mini dress, sans underwear, beyond tacky. She felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she’d turned up at the Beverly Hills hotel in her hooker outfit. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“I’m afraid these rooms do not have a private dining area large enough to accommodate your party. If you would like, I could reserve one of our private dining rooms for you and your group this evening.” To give the butler credit, he didn’t bat an eye at the fact Rachel’s group would have fit in better at a backpackers’ hostel.

“A private dining room would be wonderful. We don’t have a preference in regards to the restaurant.” Rachel looked at Callum. “Half an hour?”