Seduction in Session (The Perfect Gentlemen 2)

As much as he loved making her squirm, he needed her comfortable for the moment. “Niall made me sign a confidentiality agreement. He said it was the same one your friends sign. You don’t have to worry that I’ll say anything. But someone knows or they wouldn’t have sent you that message.”

She sat back in her chair. “The e-mail doesn’t actually say anything at all about the website. It’s very vague, which is why I’ve changed my mind. I’m sure there’s nothing to fear. The truth is, I don’t need any upheavals in my life right now. I’m sure if I ignore it, this guy will go away. He’s very likely another journalist looking for a story. You know who my father is, right?”

Senator Armstrong. He was a fairly staunch supporter of Zack’s, who would likely recognize Connor’s legal name but the senator couldn’t possibly know what the hell he looked like now. The last time he’d had his photo taken was for his senior yearbook and he’d changed much since then. He was more muscular than he’d been as a teenager. His nose had been broken three times. He had a few scars and always wore his hair in a military buzz. He could meet any of Lara’s friends and family without them recognizing him.

“Of course.” He nodded. “Niall told me everything. You have a good relationship with him, right? Despite the fact that you’re on two different sides of the fence politically?”

“My dad is a good man. He just has this thing about taxes and small government. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. My point is that there are always reporters out there hoping to get something on my dad. That’s probably what this is. We have no idea what he’s referring to. He never actually mentions the website or my work. More than likely he’s fishing and he hopes I’ll freak out and do exactly what I’m doing. So I really think you coming out here was a mistake. There’s no job to do.”

“I wish you’d told me that before I traveled all the way from California.” Time to lay on the guilt. Then he shook his head as though he wished he hadn’t said anything. He gave her a slight smile. “Not an issue. I’m sure I’ll find work out here somewhere.”

“You’re not going back to California?”

“No return ticket, sweetheart.”

She softened immediately, leaning toward him as though she could understand for one second what it meant to be in a strange city with no resources. “I’ll buy you one. It’s my fault you’re here.”

That would salve her conscience? No way. He would need to figure something else out. Possibly Niall could convince her, but only if Connor stayed in D.C. He owned a lovely home in Langley that he wouldn’t be visiting because he needed to appear cash-strapped. It was a no-name motel for him. He threw some cash on the table and stood.

“No, thank you, Ms. Armstrong. I don’t accept charity. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a couple of bucks. I’ll find a place to stay. I wish you well.”

As he started toward the door, he felt her hand on his arm. “Connor?”

He turned, cocking an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I really wish you would let me send you home.”

He bet she did. “It’s not an issue. You don’t need my services so I’m no longer your problem. If you change your mind, contact Niall. He’ll know where I’m staying.”

Maybe he should go for broke and hit a homeless shelter. Was that overkill? He stepped outside, knowing damn well she’d be hard on his heels. He needed a finishing touch. Ah, there it was. Perfectly placed, as though someone had known he would need it. Thank you, city planners. He walked a few steps to the bus stop and dropped down on the bench under the sign denoting it as a bus stop.

Sure enough, she practically ran out of the bar, all that hair flying behind her. Damn, but he was fascinated by her hair. It looked ridiculously soft and he wondered if she would gasp a little when he pulled it. Not too much. Just enough to sensitize her scalp, to let her know he could make every single inch of her bend to his will.

And there went his dick again. Unruly thing and yet it was kind of nice to know the fucker still worked. More than a few months had culminated into what could only be called a dry spell. He hadn’t picked up a woman like he usually did when he needed to burn off stress. It had been even longer since he’d spent more than one night with any woman, but if this worked the way he thought it should, he would be with Lara for a few weeks. He could be in her bed in a couple of days, if her interest level was any indication. Every report he had on her stated she practically lived like a nun. She hadn’t had a single serious boyfriend since she’d broken it off with her lawyer fiancé. She’d thrown herself into work. All it would likely take was showing her a bit of interest and a little affection.

He didn’t even want to try this without seducing her, Connor suddenly realized. He wanted her.

He really was a bastard.

She stopped at the edge of the street. 2nd Street NE was crowded at this time of day. Most of D.C. was crowded at any time of day. She looked up and down the street, obviously trying to find him.

She breathed a long sigh of relief when her eyes lit on him. “I thought I’d lost you.”

You couldn’t lose me if you tried, little girl. “I’m just waiting on the bus.”

“Oh.” A slow smile spread across her face. She sat on the bench beside him. “I take the bus, too. Though I prefer the Metro. It’s faster.”

“You don’t have a car?” He was a little surprised. Given her upbringing, he’d half expected she had a driver on call.

Her head shook as she settled her bag on her lap. “I have a hybrid, but I don’t like to use it in the city. There’s no reason to. Public transit is faster and better for the environment. And you meet the most interesting people on the subway.”

Yes, and also got to see a lot of public urination. Actually, he didn’t like the idea of her being alone on the subway at night. It would be a little like a cupcake running around a group of toddlers, only she’d look tempting in the midst of thugs with rape and murder on their minds. “You shouldn’t use the Metro late at night.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine. I have a rape whistle.”

“You need a gun.”

“I don’t believe in guns.”

Why wasn’t he surprised? He was sure she thought that if the government took guns away from good people, everyone would be safe. “Here’s the bad news, sweetheart. They believe in you. You don’t have to believe in a gun to get killed by one.”

She frowned. “Do you have a gun?”

“Of course.”

“How did you get it on the train?”

Because he had paperwork that showed he was allowed to carry anywhere. It came with the whole high-level Agency gig, but he couldn’t tell her that. “I have a license to carry concealed.”

He had three guns within reaching distance, along with a couple of knives. He was practically a walking armory. But she didn’t need to know that, either.

“Wow. I don’t have any guns. I’m surprised Niall would be all right with them.”

This was a delicate subject, but he’d already thought about it. In fact, he’d gone over just about every scenario possible. “Niall understands that sometimes you have to protect the things that are precious to you. If someone is trying to hurt you, he would want me to use everything in my power to make certain you were safe.”

She sighed and turned to face him. “Maybe you could take a look at the message I received. What could it hurt for you to just stop by my place and take a look? I’m not very security conscious.”

He was in.

Connor put out a hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving. Lara began to talk about where she lived and how long it would take them to get there at this time of day. She’d taken the Metro, but was more than happy to get on the bus if he preferred.

Connor turned and watched as some asshole on a crotch rocket started weaving his way in and out of traffic. It was an annoying little bug flying around the stopped cars.

“I gu

ess we could find you a hotel close to my place,” Lara said.

Was she high? “Ms. Armstrong, if I work for you as a bodyguard, I need to stay with you.”

Someone honked as the motorcycle cut them off, making it across the intersection before the light changed. Lara completely ignored the little drama playing out on the street. “But I only have one bedroom.”

And he intended to be sharing that bed with her damn quick. “Hey, your couch is probably better than the room at the Y I would likely be at. Look, even if you decide you don’t need me, at least you can sleep well tonight knowing I won’t let anything or anyone come through your door.”

She bit that fucking gorgeous bottom lip, and he would bet she hadn’t been sleeping well. Would she sleep well in his arms? Would she cuddle up and lay her head on his chest and curl like a kitten around his body?

“I guess it would be all right for a night. You should know, though, that I cook, but it’s one hundred percent vegan.”

Damn. He was willing to do a lot for his friends. “No problem. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and I’ll do the dishes. You cook. I’ll clean. We could be a good team.”

He would be the team leader. She just wouldn’t know it.

She smiled and he had to admit it was kind of breathtaking. When Lara Armstrong’s lips curled up, the rest of the world sort of melted away.

Staring into her blue eyes would have rocked his world if that buzzing sound hadn’t stopped with a hard squeal. Connor’s instincts flared and he looked up just in time to see the motorcycle stop and its black-helmeted rider lift a hand.

Connor caught sight of a semiautomatic in the rider’s fist—pointed right at Lara’s head.

It looked like his job started now.

TWO

Lara looked up at Connor, an unfamiliar rush of excitement crackling along her skin. He was different than she’d imagined. When she’d seen him outside the coffeehouse, she’d assumed he’d be a big, gorgeous, unintelligent frat boy like the ones she’d barely been able to tolerate in college. They’d only cared about the next party and all that entailed.

But Connor was different. Yes, he’d taken her into the nastiest bar she’d ever seen, but because it looked as if he couldn’t afford more. He didn’t even have the money for a plane ticket home.

What had Niall been thinking? She chatted on, but it was nearly impossible to take her eyes off Connor. The man needed to stop the bodyguard business and go to Hollywood.

She had the distinct feeling that once he got into her condo, he wouldn’t leave until he wanted to. Still, she couldn’t find the will to tell him no and send him to some ratty motel. Her couch was pretty comfy. She’d fallen asleep there many a night.

It had been years since she’d had someone sleep over. She’d meant to jump back in the dating pool with another scared minnow like herself. Connor was a shark. A hungry, down-on-his-luck, might-munch-on-anything-he-saw shark.

But the good news was the two of them spending time together wasn’t a date. She had to get her mind off that notion. Their interaction was purely professional and she intended to keep it that way because she was only interested in one man. Niall.

“Down!” He shoved her off the bench.

One minute she was talking about the Metro and how to avoid traffic, and the next Connor was shouting at her. “What do you mean ‘down’?”

She turned her head and saw instantly. A man had stopped in the middle of traffic, his arm raised. She glimpsed the faintest glint of metal before Connor tackled her with his big body. Lara went down hard on the concrete to her right. Pain flashed through her shoulder. Her head knocked against the ground and the world went a little fuzzy.

Something was wrong with her hearing. A persistent ringing resounded in her ears. Her vision was tunneling, getting dark at the edges.

“We need to move, Lara.” Connor was all around her. His arms enveloped her, his weight pinning her down. He was warm, so warm. Had she thought of him as a shark? Sharks were cold and she would bet they didn’t smell delicious, like sandalwood and soap.

She shook her head because her legs didn’t want to work. “No. I need rest.”

“Shit.” He cursed but kept on covering her.

Screeches and shouts sounded everywhere. The high-pitched engine revved again. Rubber squealed against the cement. Flashes of what seemed like hundreds of shoes rushed by impatiently. One of them even stepped right on Connor’s hand and he cursed again. He knew a lot of cuss words. He was very creative with them.

Another pain flashed through her as something crushed her foot. The pain jolted her into clarity. A gun. She’d seen one just before Connor pushed her down. She’d hit her head and now he was literally covering her body with his own, protecting her from the mass panic the shooter had incited.

He was in danger. She had to get it together.

“We need to move before they come back.” Connor’s voice was deep and calm, as though nothing was really wrong.

She nodded but winced. Every single muscle in her body seemed to ache and her head pounded, throbbing to the beat of the feet fleeing the scene.

“Let’s make for the bar and we’ll hole up there until the cops come.” He eased off her. “I want to make sure the shooter’s really gone. Don’t move.”

It seemed as if the worst of the rampage was done, and the street had become eerily quiet. In the distance, she heard the sound of sirens, but the afternoon traffic clogged the roads, so it could be crucial minutes before they made it here.

Connor stood over her, stretching his hand down to offer his help. “The little fucker got away. I hope like hell some of these CCTV cameras caught his plate.”

She started to reach for him, but her vision wavered once more.

“Damn it.” Connor leaned down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders before tucking the other under her knees. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all. “You have to go to the hospital. There’s a knot on your head.”

When he cradled her to his chest, the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“What happened? Why did someone shoot at the bus stop?” she asked, trying to piece it all together.

He strode to the bar but someone inside had locked the door. “Bastards,” he muttered under his breath and stomped back toward the bench, scanning their surroundings as if he expected more danger. “He wasn’t shooting at the bus stop, sweetheart. He was shooting at you.”

“Why would anyone shoot at me?” It didn’t make sense. Nor did her exhaustion. How had she gotten so tired?

“Well, I think we can safely say the little e-mail you received is just the beginning. Ah, there we go.” He hugged her against his body and carried her down the street. “I need an ambulance!”

He was still calling out when everything around her went dark.

* * *

I still don’t understand what you’re doing here.”

She could hear her father, but he seemed far away. And really annoyed.

“If my daughter needs help, by god, I’ll be the one to provide it. How exactly do you know the incident wasn’t what the police said?”

“The police will say what I want them to. We need to keep this quiet for obvious reasons, but it was hardly random, sir.”

That dark voice tugged at her. Connor, her bodyguard. Her big, strong, cavemanny bodyguard. She shouldn’t like his voice. It shouldn’t sound so smooth and yummy. “The shooter stopped in the middle of the street and leveled that gun at her.”

“How do you know he wasn’t aiming for you?”

“Because I’ve been doing this for a while.” There was nothing but patience in Connor’s voice. “I spent fifteen years in the military and another year in private security. This is what I do and it’s why your daughter hired me.”

“Well, you did a shitty job since she’s here in the hospital.”

Lara forced her eyes open because it was obvious they weren’t going to clear up this argument on their own. “I

didn’t get shot so I would say he’s done a bang-up job so far.”