Love the Way You Kiss Me (Love The Way Duet 1)

The mention of Cade and the fact they were talking about me last night makes my throat go dry.

Nodding, I answer, “Kam says it’s good for my image and I love it, so …” With a familiar hollow sensation filling my chest, I take the bowl to the sink and pretend I’m all right. It’s back to real life and no longer getting lost in the handsome stranger seated so close I can inhale his masculine scent. It’s something woodsy yet fresh. Like a forest that rises above the coldest depths of the ocean.

The thoughts leave me without conscious consent as I say, “It’s incredible the things people do. All they ask for is a platform, a chance. I’m grateful I can give them that.”

“So you do charity? That’s your … thing?” I don’t miss how his gaze sweeps over the expansive kitchen and past that to the sitting room.

“I don’t make money from it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” My brow knits and I question, “You haven’t read the file.”

“You know what’s in there?”

I answer without hesitation, “Of course I do. Kam makes sure I approve it all.”

Shock lights his hazel eyes, brightening them but he doesn’t say a word.

Curiosity eats away at me until I ask him, “What do you know about me?” The suspense heats every inch of my body as I wait for an answer.

“Only what I’ve seen in the courtroom and at the briefing yesterday,” he admits.

“And what Cade told you last night,” I point out. I don’t know why I feel so at ease knowing he doesn’t know. I shouldn’t feel relief, but I do.

“Yes, and that.”

Something compels me to tease him as I make my way to the hot water spout, in desperate need of morning tea. “So you don’t read the file and instead flirt with me in my kitchen in the early hours before anyone else is awake … None of this sounds like conflict of interest at all to me.”

The very moment I begin to second-guess myself, I feel his dominating presence behind me and when I turn to face him, I’m disappointed he wasn’t there caging me in. Instead he stands two feet too far from me, tossing away his trash. A sharp tension snaps between us as the implications of what I’ve said hit me. The front door creaks open, alerting us to someone else’s presence and Zander ends the conversation succinctly by saying, “So many interests. So many conflicts.”

Zander

Twenty-four-hour care is the standard for each client contracted with The Firm. A partner will be on the premises at all times, with additional detail on standby within a thirty-minute radius of the property. If at any time more security is required, it will be addressed immediately and without hesitation.

The door of the rented room sticks on my way in. Its resistance in the new autumn sunlight, slanting down the motel wall, echoes what I felt leaving Ella’s house twenty minutes ago. There’s a magnetic pull to her I can’t fathom. She’s a beautiful distraction who’s mesmerized me. I could’ve listened to her talk all day, or even longer, about virtually nothing. It was as if a door had cracked open, letting in a little light. Her eyes hadn’t seemed so haunted. Guarded, yes. Cautious—especially when Cade was mentioned.

This may be a different kind of case, but her reaction isn’t unlike other clients. My reaction, though … is certainly unusual. It’s typical for our clients to react that way—relaxing a bit, once the initial awkwardness dissipates. Although I hardly interact with the clients. That’s Cade’s job. It’s rare that I’m required to be social, and more than likely for the best. I’m a bodyguard, plain and simple. What makes our company, and our talents above the competition, is the attention to detail. The monitoring, the research. Knowing who the threat is and more importantly why. What motivated the need to call us. Emotions don’t factor into it nearly as much as simply knowing people.

When it comes to Ella, though … The first day has certainly been different from all the others.

My gaze drops as I toss the keys down on the barren dresser that doubles as a TV stand. It must’ve been a bit of a relief, sleeping in her own house with us to watch out for her.

I wouldn’t know much about that. I’ve been alone for a long time now.

Inside the room, I close the door and lock the dead bolt. Cade secured a row of rooms in a mom-and-pop motel on the edge of the city. It’s cheap but homey. Well cared for. You can tell the owners take pride in the place. My room has a queen-size bed with stark white, fresh bedding. A table and two chairs sit by the front window, the table decorated with a few stems of some pink flower in a vase. Fresh flowers, not fake. It’s a nice touch, but the feminine flair is lost on me. They’ve repainted recently, because the new paint smell still lingers. I fall into one of those chairs and kick my shoes off, one at a time.